Gou is a dark elf in Warhammer

Leading the charge was a dense column of spearmen.

Shoulder to shoulder, shields interlocked, they rolled forward like an iron wall. Spear tips stood erect like hedgehogs, gleaming coldly in the sunlight. With each synchronized step they took, the earth rumbled, as if some ancient rhythm urged them onward.

However, what truly deserves attention at this moment is not these charging warriors, but the Eagle Claw crossbows that they surround and protect tightly within the formation.

Four eagle-claw crossbows were being pushed forward by the artillery crew, some supported by their shoulders and others by their hands. Their wooden frames and metal arms reflected a dangerous gleam in the sunlight, like ferocious beasts lurking in the heart of the formation, being carefully dragged to the front lines.

On their side, in the open area away from the slope, a cavalry unit was advancing slowly. The sound of hooves was steady and powerful, and the clanging of armor and reins was like a rolling torrent of iron. This cavalry unit, which did not engage in a frontal charge on the slope, was personally led by a dragon prince. They were advancing along the flanks and spread out to avoid being targeted by ballistae.

Clearly, they will use this as a decisive blow, waiting for the moment when the enemy formation exposes a weakness.

Behind the pikemen phalanx, a hundred archers followed closely. Then, another hundred pikemen of the same size came in as the second wave of attack.

Asur's intentions were extremely clear: to advance steadily with spear formations, covering the Eagle Claw Ballistae as they entered optimal firing range; once the ballistae were deployed, they would immediately destroy the raiding ships and Reaper Ballistae blocking the passage and acting as wagon rampages.

Then, spearmen, propelled by the lingering fire of the ballistae, would charge forward against arrows raining down from the slope, while cavalry would use their superior speed to make initial contact with the enemy.

However, how could such an important scheduling escape Duruci's eyes?

The raiding ships circling overhead had already locked onto the team preparing to attack the passage.

At the same time, the spellcasters exerted their power, and with a loud chant, the water roared as if giant waves were crashing down from nowhere.

A translucent wall of water suddenly rose up, stretching across the slope. Wave-like curtains of light unfolded, summoning a power as heavy as the sea. They rose from the ground at the junction of the slope and the passage, and then spread out at the entrance of the passage, layer upon layer, like temporary water barriers.

As the raiding ships attacked the Eagle Claw ballistae under a hail of arrows from the Asur archers, the four Eagle Claw ballistae hidden in the second hundred-man spearmen squad moved.

The Asur gathered together and built a human tower that resembled an altar, creating the perfect firing angle for the ballistae.

The spearmen at the bottom stood shoulder to shoulder and back to back, their bodies pressed tightly together, their breaths mingling beneath each other's helmets. They held their shields high, transforming themselves into an unbreakable base; their arms trembled, but they gritted their teeth, refusing to budge an inch even as the pressure caused their veins to bulge.

Once the human tower and ramp appeared, the gun crew carefully pushed the ballista onto the solid ground. With a deep shout of "Ready!", the Eagle Claw Ballista entered firing mode.

Even so, the Asur operating the ballistae did not fire immediately. They held their breath, their chests heaving with each pounding heartbeat, as if their sternums were about to crack. Their fingers rested on the triggers, desperately suppressing the trembling caused by excitement. They knew how rare such an opportunity was—to fire an arrow without certainty would be to waste a gift from the gods.

Just then, a raiding ship completed a tail-spinning maneuver and flew backwards, its hull flipping in the air like a predatory bird, its hull gleaming coldly in the light and shadow.

Seizing this brief opening, the Asur gunner finally pulled the trigger.

The arrows whistled out, tearing through the air and piercing the sky like thunder.

The next moment, the raiding ship was hit.

The arc-shaped electric barrier emitted a sharp screech before being pierced through. The ship's hull shattered with a deafening explosion, sending splinters of wood and metal flying like sparks. The raiding ship trembled violently for a moment, its entire hull seemingly flung away by an invisible giant hand, completely out of control.

But the loss of control was only momentary. A mad light flashed in the eyes of the spellcaster piloting the raiding ship. She gritted her teeth, managed to stabilize the ship, and once again launched a high-difficulty maneuver.

This scene resembles a battle between warships in the Age of Sail. Because the cannons fired solid shot, which wouldn't explode upon impact, it was rare for the powder kegs to detonate and destroy the entire ship. This is why, after large-scale naval battles, the victorious side always managed to capture enemy ships.
Saint Trinidad: ?
The times changed with the Battle of Sinop Gulf.

"Load!"

The artillery crew members, kneeling on shields and holding arrows, had been waiting for a long time. Almost the instant before the command ended, they quickly put the arrows into the slots, their movements swift and practiced, as if they had rehearsed it a thousand times.

At the same time, another ballista opened fire.

The arrow flew through the air but grazed the hull of the raiding ship and ultimately failed.

The hearts of the Asur people tightened instantly, followed by a chorus of sighs and lamentations, their voices filled with near-desperate anger and frustration.

However, just as they were feeling down, a sudden and violent explosion rang out!

The explosion was so powerful that it silenced the entire battlefield for a moment, leaving only a deafening roar echoing between heaven and earth. The mingling of fragments and sharp cracking sounds, the earth-shattering commotion, even caused the elves fighting on the slope to halt, looking up in astonishment. Even the Duruchi, still on their way, were stunned by the earth-shattering noise.

One of the raiding ships was hit by the Eagle Claw Ballista from another position, hitting its most critical and fatal part.

The arrow pierced the thick ship planks and embedded itself precisely in a deep crate. The arrowhead tore through the wood and sank deep into the crate. In the next instant, the arcane sphere shattered, and energy erupted uncontrollably from within, like a solidified storm.

Then, the explosion occurred.

That was no ordinary gunpowder explosion, but a destructive tide containing energy. There was no dazzling firelight as people usually imagine; instead, there was an almost silent terror—a distorted torrent of energy tore through the air in a blue form, as if removing a layer from reality itself.

The raiding ship was instantly blasted to pieces. Its sturdy keel, hull, deck, and mast were torn apart like fragile puppets, turning into scattered debris in an instant. Duruchi, on the deck, didn't even have time to scream before his body was vaporized in the destructive torrent, leaving not even ashes behind.

The explosion created a ring-shaped blue shockwave that spread outwards with irresistible force. The surrounding attack ships were caught off guard, their hulls veered off course by the force.

One of the closest raiding ships was nearly capsized, its side side looming sideways as it spun through the air like a falling leaf. The guards on deck instantly lost their balance and were thrown into the air in droves, their figures tumbling wildly. Fortunately, their safety ropes and buckles held them back at the crucial moment; otherwise, they would have plummeted to their deaths like stones.

Ultimately, the raiding ship, on the verge of crashing, was stabilized under the spellcaster's frantic control. The ship, swaying precariously, corrected its course, hastily withdrawing from the battlefield with the Evil Guards dangling from its sides, and readjusting itself.

However, the raiding ship that had been hit by the arrow earlier was not so lucky. The shock wave completely destroyed the structure of the ship, which was barely able to hold on. The entire ship disintegrated in mid-air, and the planks and metal fragments poured down like a torrential rain. Even the box containing the Arcane Orb fell down. Fortunately, the box had impact-resistant properties, otherwise it would have been another explosion.

Before the wardens and spellcasters on the ship could even react, they were thrown high into the air by inertia, and then fell like kites with broken strings, their screams drowned out by the aftershocks of the explosion.

On the ground, the hundred archers closest to the shockwave were almost entirely crushed by the force of the impact. The neatly arranged square formation collapsed instantly, bows were blown away, and armor dented amidst the deafening roar.

Many Asur fell instantly, bleeding from their orifices in agony. Some rolled on the ground, howling and cursing. But many more were too weak to get up, their bodies convulsing before falling into deathly silence. The shrapnel from the explosion, like indiscriminate divine punishment, whistled through the air, sharp as scimitars, either piercing the Asur's bodies or smashing their shields and armor to pieces.

What's terrifying is that the chain reaction triggered by the explosion had a far more profound impact than the shockwave itself. The leaked energy, like an invisible toxin, seeped into the world, causing the magical winds in this area to suddenly become chaotic, like wildly dancing threads, tangled and tearing each other apart, almost out of control.

In the moments before the explosion, the large magic circle above the slope remained stable, with several crates unloaded from the raiding ships placed in its core, their runes shimmering. The spellcasters were carefully drawing energy from it, combining the nearby seawater with the winds of Aegir, attempting to summon a catastrophic vortex at the point of the passage, thus delaying and completely cutting off Asul's breakout.

However, the explosion shattered the balance in an instant. The magic circle collapsed abruptly, and the energy flowed back like a venomous snake biting its master.

Lylas, who was presiding over the ceremony, was the first to be affected. Her eyes narrowed sharply as excruciating pain tore at her nerves like a sharp blade, and the surging blood in her chest nearly drowned her internal organs. She coughed up a mouthful of blood, the bright red liquid forming eerie arcs in the runic glow. Then her knees buckled, and everything went black. Fortunately, just before collapsing, she instinctively turned her head to one side, avoiding choking on her own blood, before falling into a deep coma.

The other spellcasters who participated in the ceremony were also not spared.

Some people vomited blood and their eyes rolled back; some vomited incessantly and their internal organs churned; some lost consciousness and collapsed like empty shells stripped of their souls; some shed bloody tears and their vision dimmed in pain; and some even floated in mid-air, spewing incoherent nonsense, as if manipulated by some unseen force.

But the calamity did not end there.

Those spellcasters who did not directly participate in the ritual but merely maintained defensive spells on the periphery were also affected by the dissipation of energy. Their will was torn apart, their stability was disrupted, and their spirits were devoured.

The most obvious sign of the loss of control was those originally incredibly sturdy water barriers.

It was as if a transparent plastic bag filled with seawater had been suddenly ripped open at the bottom.

With a deafening roar, the wall of water cascaded down like a thousand galloping horses, crashing into the earth and overturning Asur below the slope, instantly turning the soil into a swamp. But at the same time, the barrier that should have hindered Asur's advance also vanished completely.

Asur, on the other side of the passage, seized this valuable opportunity.

Of the four Eagle Claw ballistae in the first hundred-man spearmen squadron, three had already been destroyed by the previous raiding ships. Now, the remaining Eagle Claw ballista seemed to be a lone warrior, firing amidst the roar of the battlefield and the mist of blood, carrying the hopes of all its comrades.

The splitting arrows tore through the air with a sharp whistling sound, crashing down on the raiding ship that served as a wagon.

The immense impact, accompanied by a deafening explosion, shattered the ship's hull and the Reaper ballistae fixed to the deck. Planks from the hull flew everywhere, raining down on the battlefield like a storm. Several Duruchi soldiers, clinging tightly to the raiding ship at the front of the battle line, were instantly torn apart, their flesh and fragments scattered into the air, their screams drowned out by the deafening roar.

Before the officers could urge them on, the members of the Eagle Claw crossbow crew had already disregarded their own safety. Almost instinctively, they pushed their limits, loading the crossbows swiftly and precisely. Every hand trembled, but not one of them stopped. They pulled back the crossbow arm, aimed again, as if they were not ordinary soldiers, but machines born purely for the Eagle Claw crossbow.

Then, another raiding ship serving as a wagon mooring suddenly became useless, its deck torn apart, its ballistae shattered, and the screams of the Duruts on board filled the air.

At that moment, the Asur at the passageway erupted in a brief cheer, as if they had seen the dawn of victory.

However, this glimmer of hope was short-lived, and fate did not continue to favor them.

The adjusted raiding ship finally withstood the fire of the second hundred-man spearman eagle claw ballista, managing to adjust its firing angle. Black, split arrows roared as they flew in, blasting the lone, courageous eagle claw ballista to smithereens. Simultaneously, the entire gun corps, along with the surrounding spearmen, was pulverized, reduced to a bloody, metallic mess.

Before the Eagle Claw Ballista completely failed, twenty cavalrymen, led by the Dragon Prince, had already launched a charge.

They had been spread out, and now it was too late to readjust their formation. So, instead of a dense formation with horses close together, there were only lone, courageous figures desperately accelerating across the muddy battlefield.

They all knew very well that the precious opportunity only lasted for a fleeting moment.

The adjusted raiding ships were in position. On the deck of the only remaining raiding ship in the passageway, which was being used as a wagon blockade, the Duruch artillery crews indifferently adjusted the angle of the ballistae, their cold muzzles already locked onto the charging cavalry.

Disregarding formation, the Asur cavalry pushed their horses to their limits, their hooves pounding the mud and kicking up clouds of dust. The neighing and clanging of metal echoed in the steam. They knew death awaited them, yet they still relentlessly pushed their charge to its maximum speed, hurtling straight towards Duruchi's army.

Unfortunately, the cascading water wall turned the ground into a complete muddy mess, greatly diminishing the horses' momentum. Mud splashed up, and the sound of hooves lingered, but even so, they continued their charge, even as the mud hindered their speed, even as death bared its fangs ahead.

Credan, positioned in the Duruch formation, squinted as he watched the scene unfold. He saw three cavalrymen and their horses be torn to pieces by the first ballista fired from the wagon ramparts, blood and limbs spraying through the air. Immediately afterward, another ballista fired, and two more cavalrymen and their horses were blasted to pieces, falling into the mud.

At that moment, a bad premonition welled up within him, and he thought of his serpent-man companions left behind on the Black Ark. He sighed, slightly raised his head, and glanced at the raiding ship in the sky. Then, he slowly turned his head, gazing at the captain beside him who had taken over the serpent-man's role.

The captain turned his head and stared at the ferocious golden mask on Kledan's face, a mask symbolizing the Lord of the Blades. Beneath the mask, his cold yet fierce eyes burned like flames in the night.

The captain's chest heaved, and he nodded emphatically.

Thus, led by Kledan, a squad originally intended for ranged firepower finally sprang into action. They laid down their repeating crossbows, neatly slung them over their backs, and instead picked up sturdy shields and heavy weapons. The dull groan of metal scraping against metal and the clang of armor clashing mingled together, exuding a chilling aura of iron and blood. They surged forward like a steel torrent through the narrow gaps already prepared in the enemy ranks.

At this moment, the ballistae on the ramparts did not launch a second round of attacks in time. Although the soldiers of the artillery crew had done their best to complete the loading, and sweat dripped down their temples, the ballistae could not find a suitable firing line due to the limitations of the terrain and angle, and lost the opportunity to unleash another rain of death.

But the raiding ships in the sky maintained an oppressive offensive.

When the cavalry's iron hooves finally thundered close to Duruch's army, only eight knights remained, struggling to hold on. The most conspicuous among them was the dragon prince clad in the silver armor of Yseramar.

Having reached this point, which is considered a safe distance, if the aerial assault ship were to fire arrows from here, they would very likely accidentally hit their own formation, wounding the front-line Duruci spearmen.

Therefore, the raiding ship decisively turned around and headed to another battlefield to take down the Eagle Claw Ballistae protected by the second hundred-man spearmen.

In Duruci's manual, there are two ways to deal with cavalry charges: First, quickly adjust the line of battle just before contact occurs, bending the line into a U-shaped pocket that engulfs the enemy; second, keep the formation still and withstand the charge head-on with blood and steel.

This time, Duruci chose the latter without hesitation—to tough it out!
And so, just before the lances whistled and were about to strike Duruci's shield, a devastating blow struck. Countless javelins flew out of the ranks like a sudden downpour, tearing through the air and crashing down on Asur's cavalry with sharp whistling sounds.

At such a distance, the power of a javelin is almost unmatched.

The Asur cavalry fell instantly, except for the dragon prince clad in silver armor, who survived thanks to his excellent armor. He swayed and staggered to his feet, like a proud, solitary branch that refused to break.

However, the Blade Master's only principle has always been—fight!
Fight by any means necessary! Strive for victory!

As for so-called martial virtue? There has never been any martial virtue!
Kledan had already reached the forefront of the army. He pushed his way through the dense, wall-like battle line, like a spearhead thrusting forward, facing the dragon prince who had not yet found his footing. Under everyone's gaze, he raised his halberd, activated by a flashlight and at full power, and unleashed a powerful sweeping attack.

With a dull, metallic clang, the shield in the dragon prince's hand shattered, along with the armor and flesh of his left arm. The excruciating pain caused the dragon prince to roar in fury, but before he could draw his sword to retaliate, Kledan had already whirled around, his movements as swift as a cheetah's pounce, delivering a vicious diagonal slash towards his shoulder armor!
Blood splattered, and the sound of armor being torn apart was deafening.

Yes, Kledan and Soulbreaker's martial arts were taught by the same master, the Black Guard. They were born from the same source, cruel and ruthless, and as fast as lightning!

The Dragon Prince finally collapsed, falling onto the cold, muddy ground.

As Kledan retreated back into his ranks amidst deafening cheers, the repeating crossbows behind him unleashed a deafening barrage of bolts, blotting out the sky once more. Simultaneously, the first hundred-man spearmen, under the combined assault of multiple ranged attacks, struggled to maintain their formation and crashed into Duruchi's waiting ranks.

A new round of clashes has begun. (End of Chapter)