Final Lord

Chapter 264 The Undead Cavalry of the New Era
Viscount Hank's main army surged onto the battlefield like a black tide, the thunderous roar of their iron hooves crushing the scorched earth shaking the entire Black Forest. Archer phalanxes stood in neat formation at the commander's sharp whistle, their oil-soaked arrows poised to be released with the creaking of taut bowstrings.

"put!"

As the command flag fell, hundreds of burning arrows pierced the gloomy sky, cascading down like a meteor shower.

The dull thud of arrows piercing the mushroom cap and the hissing of flames intertwined to create a symphony of death, instantly turning the large black umbrella guards in the front row into raging pillars of fire.

The catapult array roared deafeningly as boulders wreathed in green demonic flames hurtled into the monster horde, each impact creating a fiery ring over ten meters in diameter.

In a short time, the monsters suffered heavy casualties.

"Form ranks! Charge!" With the cover of ranged units, Hank's troops quickly approached the battlefield.

The corpse fungus sky island roared, and some of the monsters emerging from the ground changed direction to intercept Hank's forces.

But Hank's troops fought very steadily.

The steel wall formed by swordsmen and spearmen advanced steadily, their iron-clad boots crushing the slime-like creatures crawling on the ground, and their gleaming swords precisely severing the wriggling roots of the hollow trees.

The Heavy Thrower, with its interruption ability, keeps its eyes fixed on the Enchantress Mushroom Queen. Whenever the Enchantress Mushroom Queen tries to spit out spores, three spears will immediately pierce through the smiley face on its cap.

Salang's remnants finally got a chance to catch their breath. The half-goat soldiers regrouped with their backs to the human phalanx, their mold-covered wool gleaming like mottled battle banners in the firelight.

Salang himself knelt on one knee, leaning on his broken scepter. The mead liquid in the transparent cavity of his abdomen was almost gone, but he still insisted on performing a final healing spell on the soldiers around him.

Salang's tense nerves finally relaxed. He exhaled a deep breath, and the mead liquid that had been churning violently in the transparent cavity of his abdomen gradually calmed down. Gazing at the mushroom forest twisted and collapsed in the flames in the distance, a sincere admiration appeared on his wrinkled goat face.

“As expected of the Viscount…” Salang’s rough fingers unconsciously caressed the bronze shepherd’s bell, his sheep-like eyes reflecting the towering flames. “Such a meticulous and thorough arrangement is truly flawless.”

He recalled Hank's calm, almost ruthless orders, each word like a precise gear, meshing seamlessly with every detail of the battlefield. The burned corpses, the cleared escape routes, the cautious advance—every step precisely anticipated the enemy's traps.

“If it were me…” Salang’s goat hoof unconsciously crushed a clump of pink mycelium on the ground, and he shuddered with lingering fear, “I probably would have led my people in to their deaths.”

In the distance came the creaking of a catapult winch. Salang looked up and saw Viscount Hank standing on the eastern highlands, his sable cloak billowing like dark clouds in the firelight. The way his slender fingers tapped the Hydra ring made it seem as if he were not commanding a bloody battle, but playing an elegant game of chess.

"With such a commander, how can we not avenge our great grudge?" Salang gripped his scepter, a burning fighting spirit igniting in his murky ram eyes. He devoutly stroked the patriarch's necklace on his chest, secretly vowing to follow Viscount Hank and slaughter all the evil spirits that desecrated the remains of the half-goat.

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu"

Just when the battle seemed to be turning around, a chilling wail of the dead suddenly echoed from the depths of the Black Forest.

The sound was like the wailing of thousands of wronged souls in a boiler, or like the pressure relief valve of a hellish furnace being suddenly opened.

"What?" Salang turned around in shock. Thirty [Undead Heavy Truck Knights], like steel behemoths crawling out of the abyss of hell, swooped down the hillside behind him, carrying the aura of death! These ferocious war machines were covered in mottled rust, and the skull insignia embedded in the front of the trucks gleamed pale in the firelight, the twisted metal patterns outlining faces of painful howls. The exhaust pipes vibrated violently, spewing out eerie blue soul fire, leaving strange trails of flame in the air.

Inside the cockpit, the skeleton pilot, clad in jet-black armor, had frenzied undead fire flickering in his eye sockets. His bony fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, and his jaws snapped open with a grotesque "crackling" laugh.

During their time in Shengyang Village, they've been hauling soil and sand. The undead knights, being used as coachmen, are getting restless and bored.

Now that they finally had a chance to show their skills, these undead creatures went completely berserk. Their bony feet slammed the accelerator pedal into the cockpit floor, the rusted engine roared in a dying groan, and the tachometer needle swung wildly toward the red zone!

With this much force, none of you can survive!

Undead Heavy Truck Rider

Extraordinary Level 2

Type: Undead/All-rounder/Combat Unit
Health: 160 (Mechanical Body, High Armor)
Attack: 35 (Area of ​​effect damage)
Defense: 32 (Metal Armor)
Speed: 26 (Fast movement speed)
Special Abilities: Undead, Mechanical

Undead Charge: Moving is considered initiating a charge, attacking all enemies in its path. It continuously knocks back all attacked units in front, dealing continuous damage (attacks are calculated every 3 seconds).

Overweight unit: Unstoppable, difficult to turn when moving.

Wraith's Whistle (160-second cooldown): Charges in a straight line, speed gradually increasing, up to a maximum of 10 points. Attack power increases with speed, up to a maximum of +100.

Roar! Death! Fear! When the Undead Heavy Truck Knight kills an enemy unit, it reduces the morale of all enemy units by 1. This ability can only be triggered once every 6 seconds for units with the same name.

Skull-shaped tires rolled over the gravel on the hillside, sending up blinding sparks. As the welded spikes on the truck fronts slashed through the ground, they didn't kick up dirt, but rather the phantoms of countless struggling, lifeless souls. Every truck's horn wailed, a sound like the lamentations of a thousand wronged spirits in a boiler, or like the sudden release of pressure from a hellish furnace. They formed a deathly steel torrent, swooping down on the battlefield with unstoppable force!

"Enemy attack from the rear!" The lookout's scream was drowned out by the deafening horns of the truck drivers. These behemoths rolled across the battlefield at an absurd speed, their welded spikes on the front shoveling through the earth, sending up clouds of bone fragments. Salang's sheep-like pupils contracted sharply; he clearly saw a skeleton clad in rusted armor sitting in the cab of each truck, its empty eye sockets flickering with murderous will-o'-the-wisps.

"Lame sheep! Release the fog wall!" At Salang's roar, dozens of deformed half-goat people immediately knelt down in prayer. A murky fog billowed out, instantly condensing into a translucent barrier.

But this was enough to withstand the defense of thousands of soldiers, yet it was as thin as paper in front of the undead truck—the truck driver in the lead suddenly opened his blood-red maw, and the barbed metal tongue shot out like a battering ram, instantly shattering the fog wall into a sky full of water droplets!

Sorry, but the Undead Heavy Truck Rider is unstoppable when it charges!
The steel torrent crashed irresistibly into the human archer phalanx. The cracking of bones breaking and the groans of armor deforming echoed throughout the battlefield. Blood splattered from the truck riders' skull tires as they crushed human bodies etched eerie patterns onto the trucks. One archer, trying to leap away, was pierced through the chest by an iron hook that suddenly popped out from the roof of the truck, hanging in mid-air convulsing like a rag doll.

"Ah—! My leg! Help...help me!" A young soldier's scream tore through the battlefield's clamor as his right leg was crushed by the truck driver's metal spikes, the white bone fragments piercing his blood-stained leather armor. The excruciating pain contorted his face like a demon, his ten fingers digging deep into the humus, leaving ten bloody furrows.

The archers in the back row dropped their longbows and frantically tore at their uniforms to bandage their comrades. But when they saw the intestines gushing out of their comrade's abdomen, they suddenly let out a desperate retching sound and staggered backward.

(End of this chapter)