CHAPTER 559: CHAPTER 537: BATTLE OF THE LAPPER RIVER (PART 2)

The sonic grenade known as "Banshee’s Howl" was a new creation by Hilov, proposed by an alchemist priest from the Arms Factory.

The dragon bone flute was initially developed by the Church to appease giant spiders and lure children.

Its most convenient feature is its alchemical property of low mana activation, similar to fluorite.

As long as the catalyst is in place, even a mortal or natural wind can achieve the effect of bewildering the mind.

Not to mention that in the hands of someone with high mana, it could even cause irreversible neuro damage to the recipient.

Long ago, Horn had the idea of turning it into a weapon, as dragon bone is quite a common mineral in the Dragon Sleep Mountain Range, allowing for mass production.

However, he had two problems that he couldn’t solve.

First, how to avoid hurting one’s own people? Second, how to enhance its lethality?

Hilov, who received this research assignment, quickly solved the first problem with a sonic grenade made from a wind shell.

The so-called wind shell has an internal structure somewhat similar to a rotary holy water pump.

However, the latter pumps water, while the former is smaller and pumps air.

This principle is similar to a diabolo, where the sudden release of a spring gear drives the internal spinning wheel similar to a diabolo to rotate.

The dense air enters the dragon bone sound window, its vibration sufficient to deplete the alchemical properties of that piece of dragon bone in an instant, achieving the desired effect.

But the second problem remained unresolved.

When the dragon bone is sounded by natural wind, its lethality is too weak, and anything with a larger frame or a breathing method is not affected.

So the project was shelved until Bachelor Kerben from the Dragon Language Scholar Association arrived.

The Dragon Language Scholar Association, as the name suggests, focuses on researching dragons.

They study almost everything related to dragons, and dragon bones are also dragons!

Even Bachelor Kerben himself once tried to resurrect dragon souls with dragon bone, a failed alchemical ritual, but it significantly enhanced the alchemical properties of the dragon bone.

As the spring gear spun rapidly, the dragon bone would instantaneously trigger its alchemical properties and then turn into a pile of bone ash and dissipate.

According to tests on knight death row inmates, the majority of warhorses and anyone with a three-phase breathing technique or lower cannot withstand the sonic and mental impact of the dragon bone.

If it’s an ordinary person, it could even lead to neuro damage and result in a vegetative state.

The first project of the Divine Axis Alchemy Development Bureau became this hot new weapon scientifically named the "Clock Bomb."

The name was not only to prevent intelligence leaks but also because its internal delay gear emits a ticking sound like a countdown before the sonic boom.

Horn also whimsically added a dial to assist soldiers in determining throwing time and let enemy troops see their death countdown.

The warm sunlight and cold wind blew across his face simultaneously, causing Layenna’s face to flush with warmth, yet his heart was chilled.

Standing atop the hillside, he assumed he held the terrain advantage, so he first sent a wave of knights to feign attack to gauge the opponent’s strength.

Yet, unexpectedly, before they even reached the enemy’s edge, more than half had already fallen.

The most frustrating thing for Layenna was that he couldn’t even understand how these knights fell, as those flying iron balls didn’t even graze any knight.

Before he could see clearly, the knights had all fallen.

"Damn witchcraft!" Layenna’s hand gripping the longsword bulged with veins; it was the only explanation left.

The dismounted knights struggled to climb out of the mud, their once-bright armor now smeared with mud and grass leaves.

As per usual procedure, if dismounted, they should first regroup with friendly forces, then choose to hold a circular formation or spearhead formation for foot combat based on the situation.

But none of them had experienced such a scenario where they fell before even approaching the enemy.

No one attempted to regroup the warhorses, as the horses appeared crazed, unwilling to heed their former masters.

In the biting cold wind, the knights gathered somewhat confusedly in a cluster, awkwardly stuck in the middle of the battlefield.

But no worries, Jeanne, their considerate ally, had arrived with the Holy Gun Cavalry expressly to relieve their embarrassment.

Page hammers, iron hooves, and lead bullets swept across the bodies of the walking knights in succession, blood and brain matter flowing from the seams of their iron helmets.

When dead, there is no embarrassment.

The armored knights couldn’t outrun the warhorses and couldn’t hit the Holy Gun Cavalry. Facing them head-on, they were shot down by a single gunshot.

The over a hundred dismounted knights were thrashed by Jeanne’s repeated assaults, reducing the remaining number of walking knights to double figures in fewer than ten minutes.

"Damn it, have all the mounted knights return first." Layenna gritted his teeth, but forcefully suppressed his anger, "Send out the remaining two hundred knights to provide support, except for my guards, but do not approach."

The sound of horns echoed, and the infantry turned their heads. From the side of the formation, a wave of swallow flags cascaded down the hill, rushing towards the center of the battlefield.

Silver armor flashed with the reflected light of snow. Amidst the sticky sound of hoofbeats, the knights charged towards Jeanne, blazing a trail as if on level ground.

After Jeanne noticed, she naturally abandoned her attack on the Walking Knights and instead turned towards the approaching enemies:

"Holy Father, grant me lightning!"

With a delicate shout, Jeanne raised her flag lance, crouching on her warhorse. The horse’s sweat stood on end, and with a neigh, it charged like lightning into the wave.

Standing by the riverbank, the black-clad soldiers had flashes glimmering at their temples, while their ears echoed with the crackling sound of lightning crawling over human bodies.

"Ah—"

"Hey!"

Any War Monk who understood couldn’t help but shiver.

Amid the flashes of lightning and the thuds of bodies hitting the ground, the cavalry of both sides passed through each other.

Seven or eight smoking knight corpses fell from the galloping warhorses, and a short spear was lodged in the gap of Jeanne’s shoulder armor.

These knights, while perhaps not as strong as Jeanne, certainly had quite a few tricks up their sleeves.

However, Jeanne could not use the lightning spell indiscriminately; after quelling the opponent’s arrogance, she returned to the array.

The Holy Gun Cavalry similarly returned to the formation, restoring holy power and reloading their holy guns.

They left the battlefield to the Kush Cavalry; it was requested by the Kush Knights themselves as they needed to prove their loyalty.

At the riverbank beneath the hill, both sides fell into a strange stalemate.

Church Knights and Kush Cavalry began a constant clash and entanglement, with waves of arrow rain darting back and forth between the two cavalry units.

Neither the Salvation Army nor the Church army sent out infantry, instead, they silently watched.

Thus, the battle turned into infantry standing on either side, watching the Master Knights fiercely slaughter in the middle.

They watched from morning to about three in the afternoon.

During this time, the cavalry of both sides occasionally rested or fought, each employing cunning tactics but failing to penetrate the formation.

Yet both sides agreed on one point: their main forces and infantry had yet to be deployed.

Layenna was present throughout, never leaving for a moment.

He did not consume a drop of water all day, only furrowing his brow and watching the battlefield’s dynamics, until the cautious voice of the attendant sounded beside him.

"Sir, should we retreat?"

"Retreat? Why?" Hearing the attendant’s question, Layenna instinctively responded, then belatedly slapped his forehead.

He turned his horse around, looking at the infantry who had stood for most of the day; they no longer looked as they did upon arrival.

Many had even sat down, started eating and drinking, or even picking lice from each other, their morale and mental state visibly declining.

These infantry could not focus or stand for extended periods; as he looked at the motionless soldiers opposite, he thought little time had passed.

Only the few hundred Land Servants and a dozen Double-Salary Great Swordsmen maintained a good state, but even they showed signs of impatience.

Layenna knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

If he waited further, he wouldn’t need the Salvation Army to approach; they would collapse on their own.

"Distribute the Frenzy Potion and Burning Heart Potion, two bottles per person. Drink them, then start the charge."

The attendant blinked, repeatedly confirming: "Drink both bottles? Two per person, drink both?"

"Are you deaf?" Layenna could no longer care for many things; to die in battle or die suddenly from the potion both meant death. If dying, should one not sacrifice for the Church?

"Have the Armored Soldiers and Knights watch; anyone speaking out of line can be killed directly. Ensure the potion preparations are completed within half an hour."

Half an hour later, Delawan, half asleep, was awakened by the sudden sound of horns. He quickly moved forward, standing on the edge of the mound to gaze afar.

On the hillside, dense figures finally appeared, chainmail and armored garments rustling, while the warhorses snorted white steam.

"Here they come, here they come." Delawan shouted, "The Church army is here!"

After seven hours of watching, the two thousand five hundred infantry and the five hundred cavalry led by Layenna finally appeared on the battlefield.