Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 380 Retreat
Duke Wenger slowly rose to his feet. His tall figure cast a massive, godlike shadow in the firelight, enveloping the entire tent.

"Did you hear that?" His icy voice rang out again, addressing the distraught nobles below him. "General Patel."

"Your subordinate is here!" Patel immediately stood up, like a taut bowstring.

"Integrate all available forces." Duke Wenger's command was like the coldest steel etched into ice. "All infantry, knights, supply trains, engineers, ranged units, and all high-ranking military officers—cancel leave and return to their posts immediately!"

"Target..." Duke Wenger's gaze pierced through the tent flap, shooting towards the distant north. His tone was flat and even, yet carried a coldness that seemed to pronounce a fate: "Nockshire."

"Get ready... to run over it."

"This time, he'll have nowhere to hide."

Upon receiving the order, General Patel dashed out of the tent like an arrow released from a bow.

The camp immediately erupted with the sharp shouts of messengers, the mournful wail of bugles, and the dense clanging of armor and weapons!

The massive war machine was forcibly propelled by cold hands, emitting a roar that shook the earth!

That was the sound of a crushing wheel made of iron and blood starting up, heavy, slow, and with the determination to crush everything, rolling unstoppably toward Knokshire.

Duke Wenger remained standing in the same spot.

A huge shadow loomed over him, and outside, the raging tide was about to set off.

He looked toward Knockshire on the map, a barely perceptible smile slowly curving his lips, as cold as a newly sharpened blade.

“A conspiracy…” His deep voice seemed to be heard only by himself: “This time… let’s see whether it is a skilled bird hunter or the real raptor lurking in the shadows.”

………………

Duke Wenger's allied forces were like a steel behemoth that had been thoroughly enraged, shedding all its tentative claws and revealing its purest crushing fangs.

The massive military formation no longer pursued efficient division and attack, but instead transformed into a heavy, solid, and unshakeable whole!

ten kilometers!
This invisible shackle, like a tangible steel cable, tightly bound every legion.

Like giant steel bricks tightly packed together, they slowly and steadily pushed forward along the main road leading to Norkeshire and the valleys through which armies could march, with an unshakeable rhythm.

The distance between each legion is strictly controlled within a mere ten kilometers!

In the context of ordinary warfare, this distance is considered self-imposed limitation.

But at this moment, it is the heavy shackle that completely locks Robin's invisible blade!
Two minutes! For a legendary knight, that's just the time it takes to take a few breaths, the distance that can be covered in a single burst of explosive speed!
For the knights of order accompanying the army, this time could be shortened to an unimaginable instant!
what does this mean?
This means that Robin's elite hunting team, which is like a ghost and only targets the "fat meat", is no longer facing the isolated Sotra Legion!
Instead, it is a mobile, massive fortress with almost no gaps! Each main force of the fortress is powerful in itself, and more importantly, if any one of its bricks is attacked, the power of the entire fortress will converge on it within two or three minutes, like a beehive being hammered!

No detachment or special forces unit could completely dismantle a "legion-level steel brick" in such a short time, let alone eliminate the powerful individuals hidden within.

If they take a bite or two, what awaits them will be a devastating counterattack tenfold or even a hundredfold!
Absolute violence! Pure overwhelming power! This is Duke Wenger's open scheme!

The result? The main force of the allied forces made a strangely smooth advance across the land of Saint Mingsu!
William's main force of black-robed men was neither able nor dared to confront this slowly advancing, mountain-like steel barrier head-on!

They can only constantly organize sluggish, chaotic, and annoying but not lethal harassment, like mosquitoes and flies.

Blow up the bridge?

The coalition engineers, like tireless worker ants, used magic and logs to quickly pave temporary passages on the turbulent river!

The speed even exceeded expectations!

Digging trenches? The stone projectiles hurled by the large siege engines and the low-level area-of-effect spells of the mage corps were like plows, turning the digging sites into scorched earth before the black-robed men's makeshift fortifications could even be laid down!
Ambush on supplies? The Allied forces' powerful mobile knights stood like razors guarding the outer edge of the long supply line, easily scattering and slaughtering any rabble that tried to approach!
Every delay cost far more blood than the enemy lost. Every instance of "guerrilla warfare" felt more like a delaying throes of despair.

William's young face was veiled with barely concealed anxiety and gravity as the orders to retreat were issued.

He stood on a small, recently abandoned hill, watching the vast shadow on the distant horizon slowly roll in like a sea of ​​steel, covering his vision. It was a main vanguard legion of Duke Wenger's army. He felt an immense pressure, as heavy as a mountain, almost crushing the heart in his chest that had just been beating proudly because of its legendary power.

“Lord Bucket! This won’t do!” A newly promoted captain of his personal guard, who had also absorbed part of the Power Fruit and possessed a fierce aura, stared at the approaching dust cloud behind them, his eyes bloodshot. “They’re too slow! And too thick! Our men rushing in are like blades of grass hitting a block of iron! They can do nothing but bleed…nothing! Nockshire…”

His voice carried a hint of barely perceptible despair. Could the symbolic "altar of equality" in Norrkshire withstand the crushing weight of this anvil?

William clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms, causing a sharp pain that kept him barely conscious.

Of course he knew! What was being crushed was not just space, but also people's hearts!
But... his gaze shifted to another direction—a corner of the mountain range shrouded in shadow.

That was the direction in which Teacher Robin and the terrifying "The Boys" disappeared.

"Withdraw!" William's voice was resolute, with a forced tremor. "Proceed according to plan! Enter the 'Greystone Canyon' area! Resist step by step, utilizing the terrain!"

The canyon's complex terrain is perhaps the only place that can slightly slow down the advance of that ocean of steel.

The price they will pay is that they will completely lose their vast room for maneuver and be driven into the core of a desperate situation little by little!
The army of the black-robed men, like a swarm of startled ants, was forced to retreat again and again before the slow but steady steel tracks of the noble alliance.

The vast ruins of Norkeshire, the symbol of the “beginning of a new world,” drew ever closer in William’s sight, and became more and more like a… colossal altar—a giant altar waiting to bear his head and all his ideals!

(End of this chapter)