Chapter 585

Chapter 585: White Feathers and Black Wings

In the desert wilderness, iron-gray scales stretched endlessly. The falcon knights waved their gleaming sabers as they charged forward with dust and tremors, accelerating towards the military formation of Clancia.

Most of the falcon kingdom’s horses were grayish-brown. Though not as tall or robust as those from the West Wind, they were well-suited for their environment, capable of swift gallops even over sandy deserts.

“Prepare lances! Dense layered formation!”

Faced with this charging enemy force, urgent commands echoed from the ranks of Clancia’s army. With the changing signals of horns and flags, front-line warriors lowered their lances onto their shields, layering them densely. The spear tips formed a hedgehog-like barrier.

This battle saw Clancia fielding around 120,000 troops, while the falcons had 200,000, including 150,000 cavalry and 50,000 infantry—a rare instance where cavalry outnumbered infantry. This was due to the falcon residents’ reliance on horses for transportation in the desert, making cavalry units numerous.

—

Among the riding falcon cavalry was Roger. His feet gripped the stirrups, his body rising and falling violently with the horse’s gallop. The scenery before him blurred as he raced forward, fierce winds and dust stinging his face, cooling his body and whisking away beads of sweat.

As they approached the enemy lines, the sharp lance tips and overlapping spear shafts became increasingly clear. Normally, as a seasoned rider, he would not recklessly charge such a dense spear formation.

But soldiers must obey orders, and despite the falcon kingdom’s poverty, they valued honor and justice. Being in the military meant fulfilling one’s duty, even if it meant facing certain death.

He understood his general’s intent: sacrifice some cavalry to break the enemy formation, then exploit numerical and mobility advantages to encircle and destroy.

It was just bad luck that placed him in this mission.

Yet, he would still follow orders.

Only unity and obedience could ensure survival amidst calamities, a tradition passed down by the falcon people.

“Charge!”

As the falcon cavalry neared the spear formation, riders shouted fiercely, gripping their warm sabers tightly and slashing down.

Pale arcs flashed, cutting off spearheads, but soon after, the ordered cavalry crashed into the spear formation, men and horses alike.

From above, one could see the vast, yellow land dotted with tiny figures. Clancia’s soldiers formed a large hollow square, while the falcon cavalry surged forward like an iron-gray river.

Facing the highly mobile falcon cavalry, Clancia knew linear formations might be flanked. Thus, they adopted a dense formation resembling a hedgehog, hoping to prevent breakthroughs.

Seeing this, the falcon commander ordered a direct cavalry charge to break through the formation.

As the falcon cavalry charged, a storm of sand mixed with the cavalry, striking Clancia’s soldiers like iron sand, causing pain and forcing them to close their eyes at times.

Seizing this moment, many cavalry wielding sabers infused with magic power struck down, creating wide arcs that severed the spears ahead, clearing paths for the rear.

Horses and riders collided with the spear tips, bones shattered, blood splattered. Under immense inertia, bodies were thrown back into the spear formation, pierced by long spears pointing skyward.

The battle quickly turned into a brutal life-and-death struggle.

Despite heavy losses, the relentless iron tide began to breach the thick spear formation. Time was too short to reinforce the rear.

—

Lolan Hill rode on a black horse with silver edges, observing the chaotic battlefield, her heart heavy. Compared to other nations in the Frost Alliance, the falcon kingdom’s soldiers were the most resilient and fierce.

Though they lived harshly, this adversity instilled in them the honor and resilience of old.

Honorable enemies, yet adversaries.

Lolan sighed inwardly, facing the tilting battle. She raised her right hand, and a line of silver-armored knights emerged.

These knights wore full-head helmets adorned with long feather wings, reflecting silver glints under the sun. They held cross lances that emitted a chilling magical aura under sunlight.

“Iron Sun, form up!”

Knight Captain Kanda bellowed. Three hundred elite knights formed a triangular wedge. The front spear formation dispersed upon command, revealing a broad path.

“Attack!”

With a single order, these knights accelerated like scorching winds and flames, charging like a speeding chariot, colliding head-on with the opposing cavalry.

For a moment, there was chaos—white flames and gray iron intertwined, sabers clashing with lances, sparks and sharp grinding sounds filling the air. Falcon cavalry were knocked back and fell on both sides. The central flood of falcon cavalry slowed abruptly.

At the rear of the falcon army, urgent horn blasts echoed, their resonant tones piercing the blue sky.

Lolan looked up at the sun, seeing small black dots approaching against the glaring light. As they drew closer, their forms became clearer.

Winged warriors soared through the air, about 50,000 strong, like a shadowy cloud blocking the sun. Their oppressive presence pressed down on Clancia’s soldiers, filling the battlefield with a sense of dread.

As Clancia reorganized its rear forces, the earth suddenly darkened. Black lances rained down like arrows.

Sharp breaking sounds shook hearts, lances piercing through soldiers from above. Blood and sand mixed, turning the battlefield into a scene of carnage. Many died before they could scream.

Just when Clancia’s soldiers felt hopeless, a synchronized incantation rose.

“Holy wind, become a barrier of sanctity.”

Hundreds of voices sang in unison, like a hymn.

Lolan raised her wing scepter, and behind her, black-robed priests lifted their palms toward the sky, casting spells together.

A pale, colorless air barrier rose above the army, deflecting the black lances to the sides, isolating them. Clancia’s army finally caught a breath as reinforcements stabilized the formation.

Seeing this, the black-winged warriors in the sky changed tactics, swooping down with a roar, like a black cloud descending upon the earth.

Facing this terrifying sight, Lolan took a deep breath, her eyes closed, then opened, shining with holy blue light.

“This body is a sanctuary of purity.”

With a sigh, the air rippled like waves, mana transforming into angelic power. Soft, pure white light radiated from the atmosphere, akin to a sacred realm.

Behind her, high-ranking silver-eyed cultivators joined hands in prayer, extending broad, white wings.

Then, these angel-like cultivators ascended slowly, holding light-made cross swords burning with white flames.

Like arrows released from a bow, they rose from the ground, soaring into the sky, meeting the descending black cloud.

Holy white flames burned on the swords, slaying and consuming the ominous wings.

Dense, sharp cold lances shot out, crossing and converging. Determined to strike down the proud figures from the sky.

Blood and feathers scattered, the song of glory and death echoing in the sky.

Now, white feathers and black wings faced each other, neither yielding.

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*(End of Chapter)*