Chapter 30 The Second Battle for the Ore

At this moment, within the Mithril Mine encampment, upon receiving the news, Verin immediately began organizing his forces, preparing for battle.

According to the plan, Brian led his troops away from the camp, maneuvering to a position three kilometers on the flank, awaiting further orders.

The sun hung high in the sky as the approaching enemy army appeared on the horizon, slowly advancing toward them.

Verin sat astride his horse, gazing at the three triple-bow ballistae hidden behind his soldiers, feeling confident about the impending conflict.

On a tall warhorse, Violet advanced while carefully observing the formation of the opposing side.

As a mage specializing in earth magic, Cesley used his expertise to cast reconnaissance spells, probing the wilderness ahead to avoid falling into an ambush and repeating the misfortune that befell Brandon.

"Cesley, what's the situation? Any traps?" Violet turned his head and shouted, his rough voice making Cesley's ears protest.

"No traps ahead. The path is clear," Cesley answered, opening his eyes.

"Ha ha ha, excellent! Let me lead a charge and wipe out this force of a few hundred men." With the confirmed report, Violet began ordering his troops, instructing the knights and their squires to assemble at the front, preparing for an assault to crush the enemy.

Nearby, Barry turned to look at Brandon, who was still two kilometers behind, and said to Violet, "Brandon's still in the rear. Should we wait a bit longer?"

"Hah. That coward must have been frightened out of his wits by this greenhorn," Violet replied dismissively.

Cesley, witnessing the exchange, unusually nodded in agreement.

At this point, Barry said nothing more; with only three hundred enemies, the battle's outcome was assured, with or without Brandon.

On the other side, Verin watched as the enemy cavalry gathered, clearly abandoning traditional tactics in favor of a direct cavalry charge to break his ranks.

"Any deserters will be executed without mercy!"

Verin rode past the front lines, shouting at the terrified slave soldiers.

Feeling the sharp blades behind them, the slaves in the vanguard steadied their trembling legs, swallowing hard and praying to the gods for survival.

Suddenly, the ground trembled—the enemy began their charge.

"Split formation!"

The slave soldiers in the first row heard the command and, following their training, parted to reveal twenty hidden triple-bow ballistae.

"Ready!"

Two soldiers at each ballista operated the axles, tightening the bowstrings.

Once the strings were taut, another soldier placed a long spear onto the ballista.

Verin raised his right hand, calculating the distance. When the enemy was within eight hundred meters, he lowered his hand and shouted, "Fire!"

The soldiers wielding hammers struck the triggers.

A sharp whistle cut through the air as the mithril-forged spears shot forth.

A bronze-ranked knight at the forefront felt a sudden pain, slowly lowered his head to see a bowl-sized hole in his chest, and fell from his horse.

Twenty mithril-infused spears pierced through the iron and leather armor of knights and their squires as if it were paper.

Violet watched as more than thirty men at the front fell, roaring in fury, "Ah! I want you dead!"

They were his subordinates—one-third lost in an instant, ten years of accumulation wiped out.

Soon, the second volley followed.

Dozens more were unhorsed, their fate uncertain.

"Charge! Advance and tear them apart!"

Violet's eyes were bloodshot, gripping his lance tightly, seeing only Verin atop the hill.

After the third volley, the enemy was less than four hundred meters from the front lines. The soldiers swiftly withdrew the ballistae.

"Reform formation!"

At the rear, Verin coldly ordered two hundred slave soldiers to regroup, preparing for the first impact.

These two hundred expendables had been selected a week ago for this very moment.

Thanks to brutal training, and under the pressure of the knights behind them, the slaves formed four rows, holding four-meter-long spears, bracing for the charge.

Consumed by rage, Violet channeled his battle aura, issuing relentless commands: "Charge! Tear them apart!"

In an instant, the dozen slaves in the front row were reduced to bloody pulp; dozens behind them were flung into the air by the force of the charge.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Violet plunged into the ranks, abandoning his lance for his knight's sword, hacking down slave soldiers and pushing toward Verin on the hill.

"Send the signal!"

"Yes, my lord!"

Baird pulled out a magical signal flare and fired it into the sky.

Three kilometers away, fully prepared, Brian saw the red magical light and shouted, "Charge with me!"

Fifty bronze knights and two hundred squires spurred their horses, following their lord.

Alongside them, the mage-knight Adrian commanded six hundred elite warriors, trailing behind for cleanup.

Meanwhile, Brandon, positioned far behind the battlefield, saw the signal and his heart raced with alarm. He ordered, "Everyone halt. Fall back immediately!"

The knights in his force were confused, but obeyed their lord without question.

The five hundred-strong unit reversed course, the rear becoming the vanguard, retracing their path.

Simultaneously, Verin engaged in fierce combat with the berserk Violet.

As the peasant reinforcements arrived at the battlefield, the tide turned in favor of the enemy. Verin's knights and soldiers held out desperately, awaiting reinforcements.

At the edge of the battlefield, Barry recalled the signal flare and Brandon's sudden withdrawal, sensing something was amiss.

"Barry, there's someone to the south." Cesley, who had been resting his eyes, suddenly opened them in terror and alerted his companions.

"What?" Barry turned, only to see Brian, bathed in the sunset, appear on the horizon, advancing toward them.

"This is bad—an ambush."

He hurriedly mobilized the infantry, forming a human wall to block the cavalry charge.

Cesley, not idle, raised his staff and summoned his magic, conjuring a low wall a hundred meters long and one and a half meters high before the infantry.

The spell drained Cesley's energy, leaving him slumped on the ground.

Two apprentice mages rushed to support their teacher, offering him a precious mana potion.

Barry, seeing this, could not afford to tend to them. With only three hundred warriors, just twenty at bronze rank, resisting the enemy's advance would be a daunting task.

"Hold the line! Defend the honor of House Bax to the death!"

The hundred shield-bearing soldiers heard their lord's command, resolutely facing the oncoming cavalry, channeling all their battle aura, ready to fight to the last breath.