Chapter 135
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Chapter 135: Tearing Through the Blood-Colored Shadow
Blood Frenzy, the most standard offensive skill.
When activated, a Berserker’s attack power and speed increased dramatically, while their physical defense and magic resistance sharply decreased. As long as Blood Frenzy remained active, the Berserker’s blood and vitality would continuously drain away, fueling this violent power.
This skill terrified enemies but also placed immense strain on the user.
On the battlefield, activating it could reverse circumstances instantly or lead to immediate collapse. Playing this trump card left victory entirely dependent on both commanders’ tactical abilities.
Though Domingo had been forced to reveal his final trump card, he hadn’t gambled everything recklessly.
He activated three-quarters of his destroyer cavalry while keeping a quarter in reserve.
This allowed his army’s attack power to surge while maintaining some defensive capability – an advantage armies held over lone adventurers limited to simple yes/no choices. Troops could compensate for weaknesses through strategic combinations.
Yet to Midi’s eyes, such basic coordination looked full of flaws.
The Hawk Brigade under Midi’s command was far more complex than any ordinary army. Adventurers came from diverse professions, each with unique aptitudes and varying levels. Coordinating them for battle required immense effort.
In return, the Hawk Brigade possessed limitless offensive and defensive methods.
While these blood-fueled destroyer cavalry might seem unstoppable to average commanders, Midi had already forced their trump card while keeping his forces orderly. Using clever strikes at key positions and adventurers’ endless skills, they withstood the enhanced assault.
Had the white mist not obscured vision, observers would see the destroyer cavalry as mountainous red tidal waves crashing against unyielding stone – the Hawk Brigade holding firm against overwhelming power.
The destroyer cavalry had exhausted their full offensive potential. If Midi’s forces maintained their defense until Blood Frenzy’s duration ended or Fina became available, complete victory would follow. The enemy’s goal of destroying the Golden Branch Legion would vanish like bursting bubbles.
Yet Midi refused passive defense.
While the Fog Demon "Feast of Night" and Devil’s Vines could sustain them, what then? Once defeated, the cavalry would simply retreat – something the Hawk Brigade’s limited cavalry couldn’t prevent.
Having lured out his enemy, Midi sought total annihilation, not mere repulsion.
"Klasty."
"Awaiting orders, commander." The level 42 High-level Elf guided his Nightblade Panther silently to Midi’s side. Behind him stood five hundred Nightblade Leopard Cavalry – veterans since Midi’s early days, now battle-hardened elites of the Belmar Duchy averaging level 38. If adventurers were the Hawk Brigade’s wings, these riders were its steel talons.
Midi intended to use them for an unexpected breakthrough.
The seasoned Elf riders showed no fear at charging Blood-Frenzied enemies. Instead, eager anticipation hummed through their ranks.
Noticing this, Midi nodded approval.
"Follow my blade! Let’s greet our enemy commander and unmask this puppeteer!" With this shout, Midi and his Blood Fang Panther became an afterimage vanishing into mist.
As if expecting this, Klasty immediately spurred his mount after him.
The five hundred Nightblade Leopard Cavalry showed no panic. They accelerated in unison, shifting from absolute stillness to explosive motion. Their synchronized movements resembled an unsheathed blade radiating death’s aura.
As Midi Asreks unleashed his assault, Domingo Hamilton strained to breach the Hawk Brigade’s defenses. He’d now fully composed himself.
At this stage, his seasoned eyes recognized the futility of targeting the Golden Branch Legion. Yet after years of meticulous planning, could he retreat empty-handed? Not only failing to glimpse the Golden Branch camp gates, but leaving thousands of corpses? The arrogant Domingo refused to accept defeat by someone he’d always despised. Retreat vanished from his considerations.
As the "top expert in strategy," he resolved to annihilate this mere five-thousand-strong Hawk Brigade if strategic objectives proved unattainable.
"Midi, you whelp! Let’s see how long your ragtag adventurers endure the destroyer cavalry’s Blood Frenzy!" Domingo growled.
Suddenly, commotion erupted at the destroyer cavalry’s front lines. A bloodied wave burst through white mist, swallowing dozens of cavalry and rupturing the central command tent.
At its forefront rode a black-haired youth astride a Blood Fang Panther, his bloodstained greatsword radiating chilling killing intent. Even Blood Awakened cavalry instinctively recoiled. Purebred warhorses trembled at the Nightblade Panthers’ roars.
The Nightblade Leopard Cavalry had arrived.
"Midi Asreks?!" Domingo gaped. By his calculations, Midi should’ve been cowering behind defenses, not launching this silent counteroffensive.
He knew nothing of the level 38 cavalry’s piercing strength, nor Midi’s withheld combat prowess. He couldn’t fathom how the Fog Demon’s "Feast of Night" and Alice’s guidance made the battlefield transparent to Midi.
Now mere a hundred meters separated them – this genius commander who’d defeated the frenzied "top expert in swordsmanship" stood almost within reach.
"Domingo Hamilton. So you’re the traitor." Midi calmly met the charging cavalry, gaze locked mist-shrouded golden-haired figure.
Though suspecting betrayal, Domingo’s involvement shocked Midi. The Scroll branch’s second-in-command exemplified low-key genius – competent yet unassuming, untainted by foppery vices. Barely twenty, his future in Rose Mountain City seemed assured. What temptation drove this prudent strategist to betrayal? Personal gain, or something swaying the entire Scroll branch?
Instantly, Midi resolved: capture Domingo alive.
"Full firepower. Annihilate them all." The order rang with North’s icy finality. "I’ll handle that one."
His obsidian eyes pinned Domingo. That needle-sharp gaze pierced the level 40 magic scholar, stirring irrepressible dread.
