You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 296 The War is Over (Bonus Chapter for Alliance Leader Flying Flame)

"Reload the array!"

As the dull war drums sounded, the heavily armed troops, upon hearing the order, raised their heavy shields, forming arc-shaped barriers about two hundred meters wide on each side, remaining stationary to protect the central army.

Seeing this, the more than 1,000 cavalrymen of the holy war army had no choice but to bypass them and charge a greater distance from the rear to attack the tail of the valley army in order to break them down.

"Cavalleria cover!"

The plate-armored cavalry of the valley charged out, numbering about five hundred, to intercept the Judgment Knight and the Demon Hunter Knight.

Two cavalry forces charged in opposite directions, passing each other, and about three hundred cavalrymen fell from their horses, both friendly and enemy forces.

However, in this confrontation, the Holy War Army, with its Judgment Knights and Demon Hunters as the vanguard, clearly had the upper hand.

"Spellcasting group!"

At this moment, more than ten warhorses charged out from the side of the valley.

The armored witch on horseback cast a spell, plunging the space within a radius of dozens of meters into darkness. The knights of the Holy War were startled, their warhorses unable to adapt to the sudden change. Some fell to the ground, some hesitated, and some were knocked down by their comrades behind them, creating a chaotic scene.

The demon hunter quickly sprinkled holy salt, but it only dispelled part of the darkness.

Then they were attacked by magic from the darkness.

The mid-level witches mingled among the valley cavalry, and under their protection, they suddenly cast spells, striking together and knocking many of the holy army's cavalrymen off their horses.

……

"Prepare for the fourth round of firing!"

"put!"

"Spear phalanx! Drop the bows and arrows! Push forward! Push forward!"

"Heavy Armor Battalion! Disband formation! Push forward! Push forward!"

"Archers! Sniper teams! Free fire! Cover with a hail of arrows!"

One war order after another was conveyed to all the troops; this was an offensive plan that had been formulated long before the war.

……

Arrows are extremely deadly to unarmored armies.

They were numerous, unable to escape or hide, and even their chainmail could not stop the sharp arrows.

After three volleys of arrows, the Holy War Army's lines were breached in many places, with cries of despair everywhere and the ranks showing signs of collapse.

However, they had an overwhelming numerical advantage, and inspired by the nuns, a group of them launched a self-sacrificing attack.

Half of the three thousand armored soldiers, along with approximately two thousand swordsmen, charged forward.
The Jihad Army employs a war strategy that combines long-range archery, mid-range javelins, and close-quarters phalanx formations.

The javelin throwers followed behind them, but javelins were better suited for medium to long range, and many of the javelin throwers fell on the battlefield before they could even make an impact.

Their archers were routed by the valley army at the garrison camp. Even if they managed to gather a group of ranged archers, their quality was vastly inferior to that of the valley's archers. Faced with the terrifying barrage of arrows, the former had no way to fight back.

Even if they could fire, their arrows were ineffective against the enemy's sturdy armor.

In close combat, a thousand spearmen swept forward, and the swordsmen, who were skilled in individual combat, suffered heavy casualties as soon as they made contact. Some were pierced through like gourds, unable to dodge.

"Spear formation! Forward! Forward!!"

The spear formation, holding their enormous spears horizontally, advanced in rows and columns, like a silver torrent crushing through a ball of tangled yarn.

This was a direct confrontation on the battlefield. The Jihadist army crumbled at the first contact, and their defenses were in complete disarray.

"Heavy Armored Battalion! Push forward!"

Meanwhile, the flanks encountered heavily armed troops, which advanced like an iron wall. Those who encountered them could not break through the flanks and could only retreat, squeezing those behind them, making the already chaotic battlefield even more chaotic.

"Guards Battalion! Tear the enemy apart!"

The guards pushed to the front line, each wielding a longsword and shield, and charged into the out-of-control jihadist army, beginning a one-sided massacre.

Cold armor, sharp blades, merciless slaughter.

More and more corpses lay on the ground, littering the field.

More and more blood flowed out, forming a river.

……

Roman stood on a hill, gazing into the distance where the battle raged. Shasta's red lips parted slightly as she stared blankly at the scene before her. In that instant, many thoughts flooded her mind: the plight of the Witchwood, the dying words of her teacher, the Thunder Witch, still vivid in her mind—that the witches were merely throwing their lives away, making pointless sacrifices…

Margaret stared intently at the horrific battlefield. Her breathing quickened, and unable to contain her excitement, she seized a horse and charged into the fray.

“Margaret!” Shasta shouted.

But the Scarlet Witch seemed not to hear.

She charged into the battlefield on horseback, her blood-red hair dancing wildly in the air, her eyes blazing with crimson, her blood-red aura awakening like a queen descending, adding the most intense color to this chaotic battlefield.

Roman frowned slightly, but quickly relaxed; nothing else mattered anymore.

The war is over.

……

Angus knew that the Hymn Sisters had done their best, but the current situation had developed in a way that exceeded everyone's expectations.

This cannot be salvaged by faith or morale alone.

The jihadist army was crushed.

Their archers were wiped out right from the start.

Their knights were entangled by the enemy cavalry.

The armored warriors and swordsmen were being pushed back on the main battlefield, while the flanks of the blasphemers' army were protected by an impregnable wall of troops.

Unless the hymn nuns can directly invoke the gods, they have no chance of winning this war.

“Let all this be left to the gods!” said the young knight.

The young knight pulled on the reins, looking at the horrified believers with a sorrowful expression.

“Sir Angus, let’s go!” Matthew’s lips turned pale, and Bishop Elva trembled all over.

They watched helplessly as the Valley Guard slaughtered most of the jihadist army.

The army of tens of thousands of people was completely out of control within just one hour.

Some were fleeing, some didn't know where to flee to, people were everywhere, shouts of killing were everywhere, they were like headless flies.

“Lord Matthew, Bishop Elva, you may go,” Angus said. “I will cover your retreat; you take the believers back with you.”

This is where the last batch of reserve cavalrymen are located.

Angus roared, "We will not retreat in the face of battle, nor will we shy away from powerful enemies. When faced with a desperate situation, we will forget our own lives. We will know that death is inevitable, yet we will not surrender! Holy war! Holy war! Glory! Glory! Gods shine upon me! Shine upon me!!"

"Charge with me! Charge with me!!"

The north wind howled, and so did the knight.

After he finished speaking, he raised his lance high, just like his spine.

Angus pulled on the reins, and his warhorse galloped off.

The young figures charged headlong into the devastated battlefield, like knights launching a final charge in the face of doom.

"Lord Angus!" someone called to him.

But the calls were drowned out by the even larger responses.

"May the gods shine upon us!" The reserve cavalry set off en masse, one warhorse after another following behind him, the thunderous sound of hooves echoing through the air.

This last force attempted to halt the relentlessly crushing, terrifying army, giving the rest of the holy war forces time to retreat. However, they unexpectedly encountered the Scarlet Witch, who was also heading towards the battlefield from another direction.

Lances and magic clashed, and both sides fought fiercely as they charged into the battlefield.

Angus's warhorse was exceptionally fine, swift as the wind. The tip of his lance was forged from diamond, indestructible. He wore a bloodstone, which granted him boundless energy. Therefore, he was the last to die.

He didn't know how long he had been fighting until he was hit by something. His blood boiled, his body was impacted, and he was sent flying high into the air before crashing heavily to the ground.

He had no regrets. He truly came to this unfamiliar land with devout faith and fervent patriotism, joining the holy war. He was willing to give his life to protect the followers of the gods, simply because he was also a believer. If he were to meet the gods now, he could proudly say, "I have done my utmost for your believers!"

Angus lay on the blood-stained and muddy ground, still clutching his lance, blood streaming from his seven orifices. His once young and handsome appearance was no longer recognizable. He struggled to stare at the sun with his blind eyes.

In the vast, frigid sky, only the sun was warm. He tried to reach out and grasp the invisible sun, and also wanted to see if the believers had retreated safely.

But he could grasp nothing, he could see nothing. The cold army passed by him, no one cared about a dying man, no one cared about the tragedy of a vibrant sun falling mercilessly before noon. Just like the rumbling wheels of time relentlessly crushing everything, leaving only a trail of tracks in history.

(End of this chapter)