Nightfall brought with it more than just darkness—it brought chaos.
The rat army, already teetering on the edge of order, spiraled into confusion. Though orcs, having lived underground for generations, possessed night vision, its limitations became painfully clear. They could still see their surroundings, but anything beyond a short distance faded into a blur.
Their vast ranks splintered into isolated clusters, each unable to see or communicate with the others. The once-coordinated rat tide fractured, its lines of command severed. Even an army as ferocious as the ratmen, in the midst of a full-force raid, could not withstand such disarray.
Meanwhile, the Night Tribe warriors thrived in the pitch-black battlefield. Blessed by the very darkness that hindered their foes, they moved like shadows, swift and silent. The night empowered them. It coursed through their bodies, heightened their senses, and magnified their strength.
After long hours of combat, exhaustion had gripped every soldier. Yet, as the divine light bathed them and night descended, a surge of power erupted from deep within. Their meridians awakened, fatigue swept away in a wave of pure energy.
A moment later, the entire Night Tribe army exploded into action.
The most breathtaking forces on the field were not the wild jackal berserkers nor the semi-metal giants thundering like Steel Gundams. It was the two newly formed Night Tribe legions that stole the spotlight.
The Dark Warriors. The Dark Knights.
On the battlefield's flank, the Dark Knights, led by Ye Zhan, burst forward and crashed into the bloodthirsty giant rats like a tidal wave of black steel.
Their war cries echoed across the field. Fighting spirit surged from their bodies, casting a dark glow over their armor. With their blades raised high, they struck.
Black sword energy erupted from their swings.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
The slicing energy tore through rat flesh as if it were butter. There was no resistance, no defense. One by one, the giant rats were cleaved apart.
The knights moved like a storm, their sword swings unrelenting. Soon, the battlefield was covered in black arcs of energy, painting the night with streaks of deadly power.
With only three thousand strong, the Dark Knights pierced straight through the heart of the rat army like a sharpened dagger. Everything in their path fell. Just a single charge decimated nearly a third of the bloodthirsty rats.
Turning his warhorse with ease, Ye Zhan raised his sword and shouted, "Again!"
Without hesitation, the knights surged forward once more, cleaving into the enemy ranks.
On another front, the Dark Warriors led by Ye Dashan also made contact. Their formation slammed into the enemy like an unbreakable wall.
Wielding sword and shield, they advanced with ruthless precision. Each strike of their blades, infused with fighting spirit, sliced effortlessly through rat armor and flesh.
Giant rats lunged with claws, striking the warriors, but their attacks barely reached the armor. The protective aura of fighting spirit blocked every blow.
Driven back a step by brute force, a Dark Warrior bared his teeth, laughed coldly, and then swung his sword in a brutal arc. Another rat fell, sliced cleanly in two.
"Kill!"
Their fighting spirit had manifested into solid Gang—an ability usually reserved for fourth-order extraordinary warriors. But thanks to favorable circumstances, the Dark Warriors had unlocked this formidable skill early.
Even though the Giant Rat Legion was considered elite among ratmen, they were utterly outmatched. Their claws could not pierce the warriors' defense, and their armor crumbled with a single strike.
It was a massacre. No enemy could stand. No one could escape.
Despair rippled through the ratmen ranks.
The front lines were collapsing, shattered by the ferocious assaults of the Night Tribe legions. One by one, more ratmen fell. This was no longer a battle between equals. The difference in strength was overwhelming.
High above, the black-robed figure watched. When the time was right, he lifted the veil of darkness with a simple gesture. Instantly, light returned to the battlefield.
That single act shattered the last remnants of the rat army's morale.
With the return of visibility, the ratman commanders saw the full scale of their defeat. The flanks were scattered. Their elite front line was obliterated. The once-cohesive force had dissolved into chaos.
Across the field, the semi-metal giants rampaged freely. Their maces, slick with blood and coated in strange substances, gleamed with a dull, sinister light.
The berserker hyenas had lost all restraint. Where once they fought with a semblance of defense, now they threw themselves into the fray with reckless abandon. They couldn't release sword energy like the Dark Warriors, but their raw power was unmatched. They hacked and tore at the enemy with blood-soaked blades and a madness in their eyes.
Their black swords were dyed completely red. Their armor dripped with gore, as though they had bathed in a pool of blood.
The ratmen's last hope—their two elite legions of bloodthirsty giant rats and towering ratmen—had been crushed. They could no longer rally a counterattack.
It was like watching a pack of tigers unleashed on a herd of helpless sheep.
At the very moment the ratmen realized the truth, a wave of despair swept over them. The battle was lost.
"The winner has been decided."
Having secured victory, Ye Zhan began gathering the troops. The battlefield now belonged to the Night Tribe, and the ratmen were being hunted down one by one.
Some of the ordinary ratmen, mindless and devoid of true intelligence, continued fighting. But their resistance was meaningless. Weak, disorganized, and pitifully uncoordinated, they were barely more threatening than common vermin.
It took hours to finish the cleanup. By the time the battlefield was cleared, darkness had returned.
"Messenger of the gods."
Ye Zhan turned toward the black-robed figure beside him, his expression filled with newfound respect. This being could traverse realms and commune with the divine. His power was unquestionable.
The black-robed figure was none other than the incarnation of Su Xingyu's divine power. He nodded at Ye Zhan and said calmly, "Gather the soldiers."
"Yes."
Ye Zhan did not question him. At once, he ordered the soldiers to regroup. Though weary, their eyes still burned with fire.
Su Xingyu wasted no time. Drawing upon his divine incarnation as a conduit, he descended like a beam of celestial light. With a sweep of his hand, he healed the wounded and cleansed them of the ratmen's curses.
Then, the dead began to rise.
Across the battlefield, skeletons stirred.
The remains of the fallen ratmen began to move, rising one after another from where they had fallen. There weren't just dozens, nor even hundreds. There were hundreds of thousands.
The Night Tribe warriors had never seen such a thing.
Corpses they had just slain now stood before them as skeletal forms, devoid of flesh, yet full of unnatural life. The entire battlefield, once silent in death, now trembled under the rising tide of undead.
Even the bravest warriors felt a chill crawl up their spines.
Gulp.
"Silence!"
Ye Zhan's voice cut through the murmuring ranks like a whip. His brows furrowed as he barked, "This is the miracle of our Lord. The resurrection of the dead."
He offered a brief explanation, calming their fears. The sight remained unsettling, but at least now the soldiers understood.
Among the first to accept the reality were the jackal warriors. They hailed from the Dark Cave and had encountered skeletons before. Some had even fought them.
But this? This was something else entirely. Never before had they seen hundreds of thousands rise.
"Not bad."
Su Xingyu nodded with approval as he surveyed their reactions.
The will of the army remained unbroken.
The night belonged to the Night Tribe.