Chapter 1817: Chapter 598: Stirring Up Trouble (Part 2)

By then, whether they’re disorganized and fighting like trapped beasts or forced to plunge into The Sea of Mist, their fate will be annihilation.

Everything was proceeding in the best possible direction, but tonight Valdeniel received some terrible news. Fifty Fear Knights did not return on time from a patrol, and the remaining scout patrols sifted through their patrol radius again. They found their bodies on the Gravel Plain beyond the coastline.

Upon hearing this news, Valdeniel’s heart wept. Among these fifty Fear Knights was his youngest son, a child who, like all young men, was fervent and brave, eager to establish unparalleled achievements in the Holy War and bask in the adoring and infatuated gazes of countless young women among the flowers.

Old Val brought this youngest son to the battlefield to let him feel the atmosphere of war up close, intending to tell him that the blood-sprayed battlefield is not a stage anyone can treat as a showcase. Here, only the distance between life and death exists, without passion and romance.

During this intense period of battle, every Demon Clan commander had basically figured out the details of this Beamon Wolf Cavalry. These Beamons didn’t bring any air force, nor did they have any Altar Sacrificial Ceremony with flying magic pets among them. This was the main reason Old Val dared to bring his favorite son to the front lines.

But the ruthless reality played a huge joke on Old Val!

As Valdeniel rummaged through the bodies of these Fear Knights, his heart wrenched.

Every Fear Knight had burn marks from electric currents on them. Severe ones were like dry farmlands, cracked with radiating lines, shattered at a touch; the slightly better off, their chests had enormous straight penetrating wounds, with flesh wounds curled like lips, bodies carbonized, and eyeballs burst into vitreous fluid.

A detail especially troubled Valdeniel; he noticed that his cherished Boer only drew his saber halfway out before being instantly killed, his body covered in wounds as if he had been stuffed into a meat grinder, unbearably tragic to behold.

These fifty Fear Knights, Boer included, all came from the glorious “Gloucester Squad,” a veteran elite unit with a history spanning ten thousand years, belonging to the Blood Drop Cross Regiment. Back in the Holy War, this squad once turned defeat into victory in adverse circumstances, each possessing a gold saber with “Royal Air Force” engravings awarded personally by the Dreadlord, known as the Saber Squadron.

Though only half a squadron, Valdeniel absolutely knew the combat strength and courage of the “Gloucester Squadron” lads! Moreover, young Boer, under his training, had martial skills far superior to Old Val himself back then. Such a formidable fifty Fear Knights didn’t even get the chance to call for aid or escape and were wiped out by the enemy. Doubtlessly, there are surely two or more extreme experts hidden among the Beamon Wolf Riders, hunting for a chance to kill top Demon Clan officers.

“Immediately notify the Heavenly King’s Throne, gather two thousand Fang-level Fear Knights and Claw-level Gargoyles near the coastline, and request a hundred Flying Nightmare Knights and ten Winged Knights. I think we must strengthen our defensive forces!” Valdeniel suppressed his grief and issued orders to his adjutant composedly.

The composure and calmness of a commander at this moment are the best medicine for the soldiers; otherwise, the spreading fear of the enemy would be an invisible disaster.

Just as the adjutant was about to salute, a series of massive dry thunderclaps that could shatter eardrums rolled across the sky, and a heavy rain poured down with no warning from the pitch-black night sky.

The cold air quickly froze the falling raindrops into walnut-sized hailstones, smashing into every night traveler’s face, producing a mournful concerto with the clash of weapons and armor.

A massive shadow was close to the distant clouds, shrouded in alternating layers of black and white moonlight, swiftly approaching the sight range of Valdeniel and a multitude of demon air knights.

In the cold air, the ear-piercing screeches slicing through and the crisp crashing of hailstones were exceptionally pronounced.

Due to the dense hail particles, the moonlight cast on this massive shadow became gradually hazy and dreamy as the distance closed.

Before long, the colossal shadow approached closely.

It turned out to be a golden two-headed giant dragon, its flesh wings like mountains, scales and horns fierce, with four lantern-like enormous eyes gleaming with ferocity. Seated on this ferocious dragon beast’s back were four fierce and silent knights, commanding the giant dragon to pass straight through the crowd of Demon Clan airmen without looking sideways.

Including Valdeniel, all the Demon Clan soldiers were awed by the other’s aura, watching them pass by without action, with a few even involuntarily making way for them.

Until this golden dragon beast carried the four knights away into the Misty Ocean, Valdeniel and a group of Demon Clan soldiers continued to look back.

“Should have taken down those demons,” Lampard regretfully glanced back, “A reaper for every one.”

“With such squirrelly faces, you can tell they’re no experts. Killing them would just be embarrassing,” Liu Zhenkan squinted at his cigar, disdainfully blowing ash, “Using energy weapons on such minions? That’s like using a ballista to shoot mosquitoes, overkill!”