Let go of that monster girl!

But since that terrifying, whitish fungus spread northward, no one has been able to laugh anymore.

Molen casually flipped to a page, and the horse girls' eyes immediately followed.

On that page, there was a drawing of Robert, and a horse girl.

Splash!

The knights all took a half step back in unison.

Molen looked up, picked up his notebook, and glanced around at the various horse girls in front of him.

He turned to the page with the dragon illustration and showed it to them.

"This is a dragon."

Then turn to the next page.

"This is the Dragon Girl."

The brown-haired horse girl frowned, looked at the first painting, then at the second, her expression full of confusion.

The horse-woman knights stared at each other, none of them knowing what he wanted to say.

Molen cleared his throat, his expression serious, like a seasoned monster scholar.

"The dragon is a magnificent and awe-inspiring beast."

"And the Dragon Girl."

"She is a petite, cute, beautiful, soft, and fragrant girl monster girl who possesses all the perfect virtues in the world."

Splash!

The knights once again took a half step back in unison.

Molen was genuinely very serious.

This is a very, very scientific and serious academic question about monsters, and has absolutely nothing to do with fetishes.

The dragon girl's slender and petite figure is an extremely formidable advantage.

The average height of the dragon maidens is 1.5 to 1.6 meters. They are delicate and soft, but this does not mean that they are easy to push over.

On the contrary, this means that while they possess toughness comparable to dragons, they also have a hit-and-run area of ​​less than an arm's width.

For a target as large as a deformed dragon, you could basically hit it with your eyes closed.

However, a dragon girl, without spreading her wings, only has a frontal projection area of ​​0.7 square meters.

Ok……

Molen nodded slightly and closed his notebook.

The smaller one is indeed more impressive.

If you want to use the Lyme Bomb to take down the Dragon Girl, the airship has to get very close to a dangerous distance, which is completely out of Moren's style.

He put the notebook back on the table.

"Therefore, we must use this rune arrow to kill with one shot if possible."

But the dragon girl wasn't called Smaug, and even if she were, Morren wasn't called Bard.

Putting all your chips on the opponent being unable to dodge a crossbow bolt is gambling with your life.

The knight beside the brown-haired horse girl nudged her gently with his elbow, prompting her to ask the next question at just the right moment:

"Then, Your Excellency Baron, what should we do?"

Molen smiled without saying a word.

It looks absolutely terrifying.

The horse girls immediately felt a terrifying sense of familiarity.

Oh no! He's going to use us as cannon fodder!

The Rat Girls have always been used as cannon fodder, but I never imagined that one day they would be pushed out as cannon fodder by the Rat Girl Lords...

Moren picked up a small golden flag from the plate next to the map and placed it near the dragon's lair on the map.

Then he picked up a small green flag and placed it next to the gold flag.

"Don't worry, I won't send you all to your deaths."

This is certainly not because Moran has a particularly good temper.

However, in a battle of this scale, they cannot be cannon fodder; at most, they can only become an inconspicuous red spot on the edge of a shell crater.

"Our flying rats have confirmed that the Kingdom's Exterminator Army has reached the north of that dragon's lair."

"The Kingdom's army is the main force in ground combat."

"Ai Shan, all you need to do is clear a high ground amidst the chaos and set up a surprise gift specially prepared for the Holy Dragon."

"Your goal is simply to help the rats hold this position for now."

The horse girl knights' expressions turned ugly.

The man in front of them meant that all they needed to do was to withstand the surging tide of monstrous beasts for a good ten minutes or so, without any walls or fortresses, to protect a large, flimsy device, and then "simply" evacuate.

What's the difference between this and cannon fodder?

But the brown-haired horse girl was the first to step forward and kneel down on one knee.

Her voice was steady, pausing between each sentence.

"In the name of Carrot, by the oath of a knight, I offer my body before the blade, never retreating, never surrendering, never abandoning my comrades."

"Blood may flow, but the flag will not fall."

"This oath shall not be broken until death."

More knights stepped forward one after another, kneeling on one knee.

Their movements were synchronized, their expressions solemn. They were not necessarily brave or strong; their hands trembled slightly, and their eyes held an unconcealable fear.

But to flee means defeat, and defeat means endless shame.

They have endured far too much humiliation, and the pride of the Carrot family makes them willing to seize this opportunity to redeem themselves, even if it means standing in the face of the monstrous tide.

More and more knights knelt down, and a sorrowful atmosphere permeated the crowd.

"This oath shall not be broken until death."

"This oath shall not be broken until death."

Morren stood among the kneeling knights, a shadow cast by the glowstone lamps behind him.

At that moment, a hand was raised from the corner.

She is a short female knight, one of the shortest in the horse girls, and probably the youngest. Her hand gesture is hesitant, like a primary school student about to ask a silly question in class.

“Um,” she said softly, “why don’t we stay on the hill and wait for the Kingdom’s army to take down that dragon?”

Click.

The somber atmosphere shattered instantly.

"The Kingdom's tactics will likely take several months, by which time we'll have been wiped out by the endless Holy Remains Army," Arima-nii analyzed.

The short female knight nodded and raised her hand again.

"That's exactly what I wanted to ask," she asked cutely. "Shouldn't we first discuss how to deal with those monsters that are heading south?"

All the knights then realized what was happening, and they all turned to look at Morren.

Molen spread his hands and said in a relaxed tone:

"Don't worry, those guys aren't a problem at all."

Chapter 123 A New Form of War

a few days later.

The mountain road winds its way through the mountains.

Molen walked at the front.

Lyme followed behind him, and then the horse girl.

Judging from their age alone, most of them were still young girls. After the panic subsided slightly, their lingering curiosity resurfaced.

Every now and then, they would stand on tiptoe, craning their necks to peer at the baron's back and gaze at the scenery at the foot of the mountain.

The brown-haired horse girl walked across a slightly open high ground and looked down at the foot of the mountain.

She initially glanced at it casually, but then couldn't look away.

At the foot of the mountain, the daily life of Aishan is running smoothly.

The wheels of the mine carts rolled over the tracks, one after another, fully loaded, while the mouse girls pushing the carts squeaked and squeaked.

"Squeak, this side is so heavy."

"Me too."

"Let me help you push!"

The mouse girls going to work and those coming home from work met at the crossroads, waved to each other, and passed each other in a lively and cheerful manner.

The Rat Girl Train traveled along the mine tracks, clanging and jingling, between the various workshops.

At each stop, several mouse girls would carry a batch of parts out of the workshop and neatly stack them into the carriage.

Each workshop produces only one type of item: one workshop produces round iron shells, another produces slender copper tubes, and yet another produces a batch of small, unidentifiable parts.

Each item on its own is unremarkable.

Once the train is full, it turns towards the assembly workshop, rattles and clangs as it drives in, disappears into the depths of the workshop, and then comes out carrying a box painted with cartoon lime, heading in another direction.

What is that?

"I don't know, the Baron ordered it."

"What's the point of making it?"

"I don't know, if the Baron says it's useful, then it's useful."

The brown-haired horse girl's gaze swept across the busy crowd, noticing several different faces among them.

There were rabbit girls, fox girls, and a rather young-looking deer girl, who was carrying boxes with her head down, focused on it.

The brown-haired horse recognized a few of them; they were performing the simplest, repetitive actions, yet their expressions were surprisingly calm, even somewhat focused.

They were nobles; most of the non-combatant nobles who fled south were driven to Flower Town to grow mushrooms in exchange for food.

However, some women are willing to temporarily lower their standards and join the rats in exchange for the more comprehensive protection of the low hill.

Each of them only gets access to a small, insignificant part of the assembly line, so Molen isn't worried about them learning any secrets from it.

An old catwoman slowly pushed a food cart through the workshop.

She had orange fur, a plump figure, and was so old and fat that she was slightly out of breath when she walked, but her face was exceptionally kind.

The mice surrounded her, helping her with her things and curiously peering into the large buckets in the food cart.

"Miss Orange, let me get this for you." "It smells so good!"

"The Baron said that the sisters contributed it 'voluntarily'."

The brown-haired horse girl watched these scenes, her expression going through several stages.

At first, she was curious; she didn't understand what these rats were doing.

Then came smiles; the mouse girls were just too cute.

Then came confusion, and finally, shock.

As a knight trained from a young age, she naturally received military education.

In the past, wars only took two forms: wars of the extraordinary and wars of the nobles.

Extraordinary warfare, where immense power is concentrated in an individual, altering the weather, manipulating the laws of nature, destroying the world, a stage play among heroes.

The wars of the nobility, with violence held by knights, bows and spears, blood and glory, intrigue and treachery, are like a game of chess.