CH244 Furious Trump Card II

***

"Young Master Alex has made his move," Jared's adjutant announced to the Dark Hounds. "By the General's orders, we now act according to the young master's plan."

At once, the Dark Hound Magic Armour company—who had been wreaking havoc with brutal cavalry charges—abruptly split apart. Their once-unified formation shattered into ten-man squads, each unit breaking off toward separate targets scattered across the battlefield.

The expressions of the Kellerman commanders darkened.

They had been preparing to counter the Dark Hounds with sheer numbers, sacrificing fodder troops to wear them down now that Jared's Saint Domain no longer bolstered the unit. Without a Saint's reality-bending presence, the Dark Hounds' charges—though still deadly—had lost much of their overwhelming edge.

But the sudden split ruined their plan entirely.

"What—?!" one commander snarled before snapping an order. "Ignore the Dark Hounds! March on the gate!"

With the Hounds dispersed into smaller units, their large-scale threat to a full formation was reduced. The Kellermans assumed they could be contained by groups of elites rather than dealt with as an unstoppable tide.

They couldn't have been more wrong.

The Dark Hounds had no intention of waiting to be engaged. Instead, they swept across the battlefield like hunting packs, singling out their prey with ruthless precision.

Every Veteran-ranked Kellerman soldier became a target.

The thunder of nightmare steeds echoed across the chaos, each charge leaving trails of blood and broken bodies in its wake. The sight was a chilling reminder to all present—what made a Magic Knight terrifying was not their cavalry charge alone, but their unmatched versatility in battle.

A single Magic Armour Knight could alter the course of a battlefield on their own, cutting down scores—sometimes hundreds—of ordinary soldiers without faltering.

That strength came not only from the knights themselves, but from the armour they wore. Magic Armour represented the pinnacle of Pangea's artifact craftsmanship. Depending on its tier, such armour could amplify its wearer's strength by up to two entire ranks—provided they met the conditions to wear it and wield its power.

Veteran-ranked soldiers were so scarce. Raising someone to that level required years of training and resources. Yet with sufficient wealth, a knight clad in Magic Armour could leap ranks in power almost instantly.

Magic Armour was, in truth, the epitome of the Pangea Realm's pay-to-win style of war.

With the Tier III Magic Armour each Dark Hound wore—each costing at least 75,000 gold coins, more than the annual income of most Viscounts and even some Counts—every single Hound, though likely only Elite-ranked, could still hold their own against an early-stage Veteran-ranked soldier.

And if they gathered in squads of ten? Even a Peak-stage Veteran would be pushed to the very limits of survival.

This wasn't in a formal duel either, but on a battlefield—where no rules existed, and no courtesies were respected. Even with their powerful armours, the Dark Hounds remained unscrupulous killers who did whatever was necessary to bring down their prey.

Ambush. Sneak attacks. Poison. Hidden weapons. Setting killzones around injured soldiers...

These knights were more roguish than proper rogues, a wicked breed who hunted down and slaughtered the Kellerman elites with underhanded methods.

They were called Dark Hounds for a reason.

The Kellerman forces lost swathes of middle-chain officers before they even realised what was happening.

One particular squad of Dark Hounds even abandoned their mounts, hiding themselves beneath a pile of corpses after sending out a subtle signal.

Not long after, their chosen prey arrived.

Major Jaeger was still locked in combat with four Kellerman Veteran-rankers. Though he had held strong, the constant clash had begun to wear him down.

He tried to disengage, but the enemy clung to him like leeches, refusing to give him even a breath.

His crimson armour flickered, the sanguine enhancements on both his body and greatsword beginning to falter.

The Kellerman officers' eyes gleamed with excitement as they sensed their chance. With no Fury reinforcements nearby to intervene, they pressed their advantage, driving the Major further and further into a defensive position.

Eventually, Jaeger could no longer attack. All he could do was block.

That was all the opening his enemies needed. Two officers abandoned defence entirely, pouring their strength into a single devastating strike.

Boom!

The omnidirectional sweep of a sword and the crushing force of a colossal warhammer slammed into Major Jaeger, blasting him ten metres away. His sanguine armour shattered. The physical armour beneath also cracked apart. Even the sanguine enhancements on his greatsword broke under the combined might.

Jaeger hit the ground hard, weakened and unable to rise.

The two officers who had committed to the strike staggered, their bodies trembling from overexertion—but their eyes burned with triumph.

One of the remaining Kellerman officers stayed back to guard the two who had overexerted themselves, while the other raised his morning star to crush Major Jaeger's face.

But the Major still wore a disdainful smile.

'Wait... he's smiling?'

A chill ran down the officer's spine. A wave of killing intent suddenly pressed down on him—like a dozen predators had locked onto his throat.

He aborted his strike and hastily shifted into defence.

But instead of the swarm of attackers he expected, only two blades came for him. Only two Dark Hounds attacked.

He blocked the strike, being blasted back into retreat, with confusion flashing across his face.

'How? I could swear I felt far more—'

His head snapped towards his comrades.

Two Dark Hounds had appeared before the officer who was shielding the weakened pair. Instead of trying to kill him outright, they blasted him aside with a savage strike, tearing open a gap.

The next moment, the six remaining Dark Hounds surged in, their weapons plunging mercilessly into the two weakened officers.

One Hound would have been more than enough to finish the job. But three each struck the weakened Kellerman officers, leaving nothing but mangled corpses.

The last two Kellerman officers regrouped, rage and dread flickering equally in their eyes.

Then, Major Jaeger stood.

The Greater Rune on his forehead glowed faintly, his wounds were sealed shut and his fatigue erased.

He strode back to the squad of Dark Hounds, his greatsword gleaming with fresh vigour.

"You like ganging up on people, don't you?" Jaeger sneered, a gleeful grin on his face. "Then it's fair game if we do the same."

His words sent ice down the spines of the two remaining Veteran-ranked officers.

The result was inevitable.

Though they tried to flee, the Fury hunters cut them down, their deaths a brutal display of teamwork and merciless slaughter.

A similar scene played out elsewhere. Colonel Hoist, once cornered by two Veteran-rankers, turned the tide as a Dark Hound squad crashed in. Together, they butchered his would-be executioners.

Across the battlefield, Dark Hound squads struck again and again, isolating Kellerman commanders and assassinating Veteran-ranked elites. Many died before their soldiers even realised their leaders had fallen.

With the enemy chain of command collapsing, the pressure on the Northern Dankrot Fort's left and right walls eased significantly.

The Fury forces' two trump cards had revealed their brutal fangs.

***

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.