Under the influence of this terrifying legion spell, several thousand people lost their lives in an instant, and even more were rendered blind.
The power of a legion spell was evident at a glance.
Of course, relying on the mage corps alone could not truly take on an entire army.
In fact, deploying mages directly onto the battlefield to inflict casualties with spells was not an economical decision.
It could even be said that, in terms of sheer killing power, a mage corps was roughly comparable to archers.
For an entire army, losing a few thousand men did not even amount to half their total strength. If the army were larger, such losses would seem even more negligible.
This level of damage was roughly equivalent to over a thousand archers firing more than a dozen full volleys at the enemy.
For archers, firing over a dozen volleys would already exhaust nearly all their strength.
And now, after casting such a powerful spell, the mage corps was completely overloaded and could not cast again for quite some time.
Considering the difficulty of training mages compared to archers, the difference was even more striking.
Mages required extraordinary intelligence, each one was a one-in-ten-thousand talent, and the cost of practicing magic was astronomical.
Compared to a mage corps with equivalent lethality, an army of archers was far easier to assemble.
However, despite all these factors, Nitocris and Alaric still chose to deploy the mage corps on the battlefield.
Because even when causing the same amount of damage, magic and arrows did not have the same effect.
For most people, being killed by arrows was something they could understand; magic, however, was beyond comprehension.
Compared to arrows, magical attacks either came with dazzling audiovisual effects or carried an eerie, incomprehensible nature.
In any case, while dealing damage, magic also inflicted a massive psychological blow upon the enemy.
Just like now…
"The Sun God is enraged!"
"The Pharaoh wields the power of Ra, we are no match for her!"
"This is divine punishment!"
Nitocris noticed that the enemy before her had already fallen into chaos under the assault of the Solar Flare Burst.
Especially those who had been blinded by the searing light.
That sun-like radiance was regarded by these ignorant mortals as divine punishment from Ra.
Combined with the enemy leader's identity as Pharaoh, the reason for such punishment seemed obvious to them.
If the enemy truly was the child of a god, capable of invoking divine wrath, how could this battle even be fought?
How could mortals wage war against a god?
Thus, they fell into disarray and began to retreat.
Even though only half of them had been directly affected by the spell, the remaining soldiers no longer dared to stay. They all fled toward the city.
Their army had completely collapsed.
And what of Melibra, the one man who could have led them and stopped the chaos?
Unfortunately, this leader had been positioned too far forward in the formation.
Under the radiance of "Ra's Solar Flare Burst," he had already been reduced to ashes.
Seeing the enemy begin to rout, Nitocris finally gave the order to advance.
The chariot formation within her army surged forward, and the battlefield echoed with thunderous rumbling.
Warhorses pulled the chariots forward with unstoppable force, charging at the fleeing enemy like a storm.
The chariot forces of the Heracleopolis army had long since been annihilated by the Solar Flare Burst, leaving mostly infantry behind.
Though they fled desperately, human legs could not outrun horses and wheels.
Very quickly, Nitocris's chariot corps tore a gap straight through the center of the fleeing army.
Aside from those at the very front, the rest scattered to both sides, terrified of being caught in the path of the chariots and crushed beneath them.
On the flanks, light cavalry swiftly launched their attacks.
These riders were all skilled horsemen, one hand gripping the reins, the other wielding curved blades, as they spurred their mounts forward.
They repeatedly charged into the enemy's flanks, shouting wildly as they cut down foes, severing heads and throwing the enemy into complete disarray.
Behind them, the infantry advanced in a formation that was loose yet orderly, pressing the attack.
Many enemies who failed to escape in time were cut down, while even more fell to their knees and begged for surrender.
The outcome of this battle was already decided.
On a golden chariot, Nitocris reclined lazily in Alaric's arms, the intimate atmosphere utterly at odds with the battlefield around them.
The female guard driving the chariot kept her eyes forward, maintaining a perfectly composed expression as if she noticed nothing behind her.
Alaric held the Pharaoh in his arms, his hands wandering freely over her body, while the girl let out soft, sweet moans in response.
Don't misunderstand, there was a reason for this.
The heavily enhanced high-level spell she had just cast, empowered by multiple layers of metamagic, had been an immense drain even for the Queen of Magic.
Such a spell consumed even more energy than some legendary spells.
Though powerful, Nitocris had not yet reached Alaric's level of invincibility in the mortal world.
Even with the assistance of the mage corps, and drawing upon the vast magical energy of the greater source, her own reserves were now completely depleted.
The dryness of her magic circuits left her in considerable discomfort, forcing Alaric to find a way to replenish her energy.
"Too bad we can't directly replenish mana on the battlefield."
With some reluctance, Alaric abandoned certain more "intimate" ideas and instead focused on steadily transferring magical energy to the Pharaoh.
After some time, Nitocris finally recovered. Watching the enemy flee toward Heracleopolis, she spoke with excitement.
"Let's speed up, catch them, and charge straight into the city."
"No need."
Alaric shook his head.
"Why not? If we just keep pursuing, we can take the city in one go."
Nitocris looked at him in confusion.
"It's for greater long-term benefit," Alaric explained patiently. "The Solar Flare Burst you cast has already shattered their courage.
Every one of these fleeing soldiers now sees you as the incarnation of Ra. At a time like this, we should let them escape, give them the chance to return to the city."
Nitocris continued to look at him, puzzled.
"That's because we want them to spread your fame even farther.
You're not satisfied with just capturing Heracleopolis, are you? If that were the case, we could chase them down immediately, take the city, and capture them all.
But if you want to reclaim more territory in the shortest time possible, then these routed soldiers are your greatest allies.
"After Melibra's defeat, the fall of Heracleopolis is inevitable. But to avoid your reckoning, these fleeing troops will scatter to other regions.
And as they run, they will spread your name, your power as the 'incarnation of a god', throughout all of Egypt.
With such achievements and the rumors that follow, other rebel forces will not dare to fight you.
Believe me, in future battles, many will surrender at the mere sight of you."
"I see," Nitocris said, her eyes gleaming as she looked at Alaric. "As expected of you, I've learned something new again."