The movements of the enemy Mage Corps and Wolf Cavalry were massive, naturally drawing the attention of Count Offman.
But it was only attention. At this stage, even if the enemy realized what was happening, it was too late for them to stop anything.
'A pity for my brave Frankish warriors...'
As the Beastmen's Sacrificial Corps neared the fortress, they discovered the entire North City had long been abandoned.
A priest felt a sense of foreboding and cast a Lighting Technique.
Instantly, the sky lit up, but the priest's face turned deathly pale.
There was nothing before the North City Gate. The main gate stood wide open. A group of Frankish Nobles, whose legs had been severed, were propped against the wall, staring at them coldly.
'This is bad!' the priest thought, alarmed. "Get inside and check the situation!" he urged the Wolf Cavalry, pressing them to move.
The Wolf Cavalry Commander frowned. He disliked the priest's attitude, but he knew the bigger picture was what mattered.
"Let's get rid of these two-legged sheep first," the Wolf Cavalry Commander said.
The Frankish Nobles might have been unreliable, corrupt, and debauched in peacetime, but on the battlefield, each and every one of them fought as if high on adrenaline.
The Wolf Cavalry Commander had always regarded these crippled nobles, left behind to guard the gate, with a mixture of respect and fear.
The priest nodded. A bolt of lightning shot out, a purple arc of electricity arcing between the human nobles at the gate.
A moment later, a violent explosion ripped through the air, and the entire gate shuddered from the force.
'There was a trap, just as I thought. That was a close call.'
They were a type of Magic Crystal explosive from the Eastern Dwarves, and exceedingly rare.
'To use even these... It looks like the humans really have fled,' the Wolf Cavalry Commander thought, his brow furrowed.
"Into the city!" the Wolf Cavalry Commander ordered.
The vast army marched into North City, only to find it completely empty.
Occasional explosions echoed from the city districts. The crippled nobles and commoners left behind were trading their lives to slow the Wolf Cavalry's advance.
"Hold on, I'll clear a path with magic," a priest said.
The Wolf Cavalry Commander nodded, a sense of unease creeping into his heart.
The priest stepped forward and, joining with a few of his brethren, summoned a massive pillar of lightning to clear an intersection.
"Let's move! Head for the Mage Tower in the center!" the Wolf Cavalry Commander urged.
The vast procession arrived at the foot of the Mage Tower, only to be blocked by a massive Magic Barrier.
"Break it down," the Wolf Cavalry Commander ordered.
A priest stepped forward to probe the barrier, but a Firebird erupted from within and set his robes ablaze.
"This is tricky..."
The priest extinguished the Firebird. Suddenly, his pupils widened. In his Sea of Spirit, he felt an immense Magic Power surging from the Mage Tower.
"This is bad! Run!"
SKREEE!
Atop the Mage Tower, which stood dozens of meters tall, a phoenix was reborn. It threw back its head, let out a long cry, and soared toward West City.
A great sea of fire engulfed the area around the Mage Tower in Sunset Fortress...
...
"Now! For the King! For the Lord of Dawn!"
The gates of West City swung open. Count Offman led the charge, storming out of the city in concert with the Blazing Flame Storm Phoenix in the sky.
"For the King! For the Lord of Dawn!"
Hundreds of members of the Knight Order roared the slogan, spurring their horses to follow Count Offman.
Robson, leading his own cavalry, also followed Count Offman, protecting the infantry formation.
The remaining tens of thousands of soldiers of Sunset Fortress marched out in a vast, formidable column.
...
"What's going on? What is that commotion?"
General Dor, just waking up, had yet to realize what was happening. He heard a screech, followed by a sudden uproar from outside.
"What the hell? What's going on? Why is it so noisy?" General Dor demanded of the werewolf general, Eric, who had come to report.
Although Eric had been disciplined earlier, his loyalty to Dor stemmed from the vassalage of his race—it wasn't something he had any control over.
"General, this is bad! The Human Knight Order has suddenly charged us! And there's a Firebird in the sky clearing a path for them!"
"Clearing a path? Are those humans trying to escape? Where are they?" General Dor instantly recognized that a tactical opportunity had presented itself.
"They're heading southwest! That area is all mountains; they must be planning to retreat through there!" Eric replied.
"What are you standing there for? Go tell Bisos to take the Cavalry Corps and pursue them at once!"
After speaking, Dor rushed back to his tent to don his armor.
Normally, he would have summoned his commanders for a war council, but there was no time for that now...
"Yes, sir!"
To ensure the message was delivered with haste, Dor sent it via Thunderhawk.
Before long, the Beastman Camp—already sleepless for a day—was roused once more. Several cavalry units set off in pursuit of the nobles breaking out from Sunset Fortress.
...
The first few Beastman units to arrive had been assembled too hastily. Their formation was scattered, with no cohesion between the vanguard and the rear.
Count Offman, naturally, showed them no mercy. Leading all the cavalry from Sunset Fortress, he charged into the middle of the Beastman formation, cutting the disorganized army in two.
'Is this the true strength of these noble lords?'
Robson, to be honest, found it hard to believe.
At this moment, the penny-pinching bloodsuckers who had haggled with Robson over every little thing seemed to have vanished, each one transformed into a dauntless warrior charging across the field of battle.
Whether Viscounts or Knights, or even those from lesser branches of their families who held no title, all of them now raised their Knight's Spears and followed Count Offman.
The air filled with the sounds of brutal combat.
Even Robson was swept up in the fervor, using his family's Perfect Knight Eight Skills to charge through the Beastman ranks for a single pass.
But that was the extent of it. Robson's adrenaline rush came and went in a flash. Once his head cleared, he chose to hang back at the edge of the fray, quietly taking potshots.
Still, one mustn't forget that Lord Robson possessed near-perfect archery, a skill that was, moreover, a gift from Count Offman himself.
Anyone familiar with their history knew that the Deriman Family had originally risen to prominence on the back of their master-level archery.
Robson's archery was exquisite. As it happened, most of General Dor's cavalry were Gray Dwarves, whose riders were known for being cumbersome but effective.
In a direct charge, this cavalry would be an absolute superweapon, but right now, they were nothing more than live targets for Robson.
Facing the incredibly slow Gray Dwarf cavalry, Robson was picking them off one by one; he almost never missed a shot.
With a series of WHOOSHES, several more Gray Dwarves tumbled from their mounts.
A noble glanced over at Robson. Robson thought he'd been caught taking potshots from the sidelines, but to his surprise, the man gave him a grateful gesture.
After a moment's thought, Robson understood. Those Gray Dwarves he'd just shot had been charging straight for that noble. In a way, it was as if Robson had saved the man's life.
'I'm not slacking off! I'm preventing the despicable Beastmen from launching sneak attacks on my comrades!'
Upon this realization, everything became clear to Robson. 'So this is how you can take potshots!'
Robson had originally been slacking on the edge of the battlefield out of a firm belief that a wise man avoids unnecessary danger. He would have been content just not to be scorned for it.
But now, it turned out that not only did his "slacking" not get him branded a coward, it was actually earning him the friendship of his peers.
'There's a deal this good in the world?' Robson's motivation surged.