Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Battle in the Rain

Lolan Hill stood up from inside the tent, having already prepared by changing into snug hunting attire for better mobility.

She lifted the tent’s curtain, and the sound of heavy rain rushed towards her. The six riders guarding outside were surprised to see her. Before they could ask any questions, Lolan Hill rang the large bronze bell hanging at the tent’s entrance. The clanging sound was distinct even in the rainy night, startling many guards who were still awake.

The young lady instructed the nearby riders to immediately notify everyone to put on their armor and prepare for battle.

As the merchant guild’s guards in the tent were woken one by one, the distant sound of hooves grew closer.

There was no time left. Unexpectedly, the enemy’s marching speed had not slowed down in the rain but instead increased. Lolan Hill made a quick decision and ordered the prepared guards to form three rows on the road, each separated by three meters. This way, even if the cavalry broke through the first line, the overall formation wouldn’t collapse immediately; they would still face long lances and crossbows from the rear.

Several squad leaders quickly mobilized their men. Amidst the heavy rain, shouts echoed throughout the camp, accompanied by hurried footsteps and actions.

Twelve long lance wielders formed the first line of defense behind wooden fences. By this time, the sound of galloping horses was quite clear, and even they could sense the impending danger. Cold rain soaked their clothes and armor from head to shoulder, and the water flowing down the gun poles made their grips slippery. They anxiously stared at the dark, blurry rain curtain ahead, as if fierce beasts might leap out at any moment.

The second and third rows were also manned by lance wielders. Behind the third row were sword-and-shield fighters suitable for close combat, protecting the archers and non-combatants behind them. Several attendants set up six large fire basins, poured oil into them, and lit them so that they burned fiercely even in the rain.

Lolan Hill, wearing her previous black hooded robe, rode on horseback, watching the vague dark shadows in the mountain area in the distance. In her hand was a matte crossbow, a gift from the Yagdilin family before departure — the “Matte Black Crossbow” (Exceptional Silver Tier).

Like a narwhal breaking through the ice above its head, a group of cavalry clad in black suddenly emerged from the turning point ahead, charging straight toward the camp.

They wore unknown black masks that did not hinder their breathing even in the rain, and the dark red patterns on them added an eerie touch.

These black-armored cavalry were roughly at Sequence Level 2. Their classes resonated well with the rain, making them stronger in the heavy storm rather than hindered. In contrast, Lolan Hill’s riders and guards, although numbering over a hundred with more than ten at Sequence Level 2 and thirty at Sequence Level 1, suffered various negative effects from the rain and were not as formidable as the enemy.

The leader hidden among the cavalry saw the well-prepared guards in the camp and his pupils slightly contracted, but he didn’t hesitate. A special whistle sounded, and these black-armored cavalrymen all took out javelins, throwing them swiftly in the rain.

In the blink of an eye, the charging cavalry reached the front of the formation. Several lance wielders grunted in pain, clutching the javelins embedded in their flesh as they fell down.

The sound of dense crossbow strings rang out. Unfortunately, due to the rain, most shots missed vital points, merely sticking to thick armor without penetration. Only one arrow pierced through the eye socket of a rider, causing him to fall off his horse.

The leading black-armored rider, upon reaching the front, raised his ready lance. Murky rainwater swirled around it, and with a powerful strike, shattered the wooden fence, clearing the path for the subsequent attack.

The remaining lance wielders in the first row did not hesitate. With a roar, they lifted their lances, stepped forward, and plunged them into the chest of the warhorses. The massive momentum of the horses dragged the lance wielders down, but they too slid forward in the rain, throwing the riders off their backs.

Then the second row of lance wielders faced a fierce charge. Lance against lance, neither side dodged, or there was no time to dodge. Immediately came the sound of steel piercing flesh, several black-armored riders were thrown high into the air like rag dolls, then fell onto the rain-soaked road, lifeless.

On the side of the lance wielders, even though the swirling water did not hit vital spots, it caused internal organ ruptures, and they lay sprawled on the ground, unable to rise again.

A dense sound of bowstrings rang out again. Due to the extremely close distance this time, several black-armored riders, holding arrows in their necks, unwillingly fell off their horses, rolling into the roadside rainwater.

Subsequent black-armored cavalry soon reached the third row of lance wielders. The neighing of warhorses, the collision of armors, the clash of weapons, the tight human wall was instantly knocked askew. The sword-and-shield soldiers rushed up to fill the gaps, preventing the formation from being scattered.

Just as the breached gap was about to close, the black-armored cavalry leader shouted loudly. Within a radius of nearly a hundred meters, the rainwater was rapidly absorbed onto his lance, forming a spiraling water flow that turned like a bullet, surging forward, creating waves and a loud sonic boom. The camp’s formation was split open like being struck by a large axe, revealing a wide breach.

Thus, the vulnerable archers and core personnel being protected were exposed to these fierce black-armored cavalry.

Is there no time left? In just the time it took to shoot two crossbow bolts, these cavalry had broken through the formation and charged to the front.

Watching this shocking scene ahead, Lolan Hill threw away her crossbow and drew the sharp longsword from her waist.

She wasn’t someone who would give up easily. Her clear voice rang out amidst the rain.

“Raise your lances, charge with me!”

Ten Lan lance riders beside her pulled down their helmet visors, closely following this brave young lady. Their warhorses began galloping at full speed, their lances slightly lowered, and a pale blue cold light began to shine on the blade tips.

The opposing black-armored cavalry watched this scene silently, yet their speed increased. The cavalry on both sides continued to disperse the guards trying to close the formation, while the twenty-odd riders in the middle charged with all their might. Swirling water began to encircle their lances, and their armor reflected streams of waterlight.

The two groups of cavalry collided like roaring trains. From the moment they clashed, more than a dozen figures were thrown high off their saddles, then rolled down.

The formations of both sides rapidly passed each other, only stopping after running nearly a hundred meters. In the pouring rain, Lolan Hill looked pale, with a long wound on her right arm bleeding through her clothes and robe. She breathed heavily, then took a potion from her bosom and drank it.

And the black-armored cavalry leader lay forever in the pool of blood. The outcome of this battle was decided at this moment.