A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 300 Because of Having Nothing

The rebel camps were half-buried in the ground, covered with tattered cloths and camouflaged with grass and other materials. Their strongholds were in the swamp, and any soldier or knight who ventured in would stumble into the deep mud, or worse, be swallowed by the dark gray swamp.

Only the gray elves can figure out where the slime isn't and where they can build wooden planks to enter and exit, and then recycle it properly.

A fierce debate erupted within the resistance army regarding whether or not to relieve the siege of the town.

Some believe that the capture of the city was hard-won, and the establishment of the Restoration Council can inspire all the people of El Island to fight against the kingdom.

Some people think that fighting the Kingdom's regular army is too risky, and that the Restoration Council should not have held Bellanst in the first place. If they had been as flexible in their gathering and dispersal as the rebels, they would not be in such a passive situation today.

The heated discussion concluded that a rescue was still necessary. The supreme commander stated, "Ultimately, we must confront Istani's fists. We must make them feel the pain, no matter the cost, so that those wearing wool or top hats will take our proposals more seriously in the future."

Not only weapons, but also strong liquor were distributed, and the rebel forces dispersed and emerged one by one from the silent swamp, eventually forming the largest army of the Grey Elves.

They had no uniforms, their faces and bodies were covered in mud, some were carrying guns stolen from the kingdom's armory, and others were just holding sickles and pitchforks.

"Will we win?" The young warrior's eyes shone brightly under the moonlight. He knew there would be bloodshed and casualties soon, but his pale blue eyes gazed at a future free from the oppression of the kingdom.

"It will, it will, little Sirsa."

Boom! Boom!

As the rebels reached the edge of the city, the Lobster Soldiers began bombarding the ancient city walls, their cannons roaring as they attempted to breach the rebels' defenses.

When the shells hit, the ancient, barely standing city walls immediately revealed breaches, but soon twisted tree trunks grew from the ground, filling the gaps. The artillerymen worked up a sweat, only to find a city surrounded by forest, with at least several towering trees standing closely near the city gates.

The knight commander stroked his beard as he analyzed the battle: "There's a spellcaster, no, is it an elven wizard?" Druids and the Elven King's acolytes and priests are not systematically recorded in the kingdom's history, and most of the time they can be vaguely referred to as "wizards."

The superhumans who should have been eradicated during the conquest war have resurfaced, making the Knights Commander uneasy about the upcoming battles. Could it be that the rebels' trump card isn't the resistance army?

The knights sent out several small squads to scout the surrounding area and finally made some progress: "A small force is approaching from the southeast!"

"Reconnoiter and report again, find out the enemy's main force." The regimental commander began to get serious. When mobilizing, one should have the air of looking down on ants, but when it comes to the decisive moment, one should give it one's all.

Any knight's sacrifice is a huge loss. They are of good birth and well-trained, and once the Burning Lion Knights are reduced in number, many benefits will be seized by the other eleven knight orders.

We must win this battle!

Henry was invigorated upon receiving the order. His servants had already dressed him in plate armor, and the friars of the Church of Islam applied blessed holy water to the surface of their armor. The liquid flowed over the dark patterns on the armor, and a flash of light appeared.

If Rorschach or any other alchemist were present, they would burst out laughing. The so-called "holy water" was nothing more than alchemical ink, used to hold magic power and activate the patterns on the armor. These patterns resembled loops in a magic circle, and once activated, they could also increase some protection or other attribute bonuses.

"Thanks, this feels great." Under the command of the knight commander, Henry and his brothers activated the [Dark Vision] scroll. Although the scene did not change, it changed from a dark mass to a clear outline.

The hooves of the iron cavalry pounded the road. Most of the area around the town had been hardened by slaves and could no longer be an obstacle to the Istani battle. They maintained a slow, deliberate pace to avoid being heard by long-eared men.

They could see the rebel army. They weren't the cannon fodder Henry had initially imagined. Although they were of varying heights and generally looked thin, they were quiet and disciplined, and there seemed to be cavalrymen riding goats patrolling and scouting around the ranks.

The goat's reconnaissance range was far too limited. The knights chuckled inwardly, and without needing orders, they all inhaled deeply from the holy oil.

Excellent! "Charge!"

Charge! Charge! Henry felt the horse was moving too slowly. The excitement brought on by the holy oil made the knight wish he could take off and charge towards the group, draw his sword, and cut down those thin stalks.

By the time the rebels realized the cavalry charge, it was too late; the knights had already reached their peak speed and were unstoppable. Inexperienced command, lack of nutrition, and poor visibility at night—all these disadvantages rendered the troops unable to cope with unexpected situations.

Henry and his brothers easily pierced several targets with their spears. Some of these elves didn't even have leather armor. Henry felt great handling them, so he drew his spear, twirled it, and then thrust it out. As he charged out of the ranks, he heard screams of agony behind him.

The cavalrymen made a turn, preparing to launch a second charge.

"Enemy attack! Cavalry!" The rebels were all light infantry, and they seemed unable to resist the attack. Their formation was thrown into chaos, and those with guns hurriedly fired at the sides of the ranks, but the bullets they fired did not find the enemy at all.

"Mudbloods are nothing but mud, and the so-called rebels are nothing but this!" Henry spurred his horse on, urging it to hurry and deliver him to the enemy lines.

The situation suddenly changed, and the knights, who should have been enjoying their second period of unparalleled glory, seemed to encounter all sorts of problems. Some seemed to have plunged headfirst into the mud, forced to slow down, while others were simply knocked over by something. Although most of the gray elves were still in a state of panic, the knights were met with all sorts of obstacles.

Henry deliberately fell from his horse. Both man and horse were surrounded by elves who went mad. They relentlessly stabbed the knight with spears and pitchforks, and even if the horse trampled down a few attackers, new sharp weapons would quickly follow, continuing the relentless attack.

Henry, amidst the crowd, drew his sword with one hand and pulled out a pre-loaded musket with the other, firing a shot. Since he was surrounded by Grey Elves, he could fire at will. However, the explosion of gunpowder did not deter the Mudbloods, who continued to swarm towards Henry as if their lives depended on it.

"Are you out of your mind? Damn it." He started to use his sword, swinging it with tremendous force, slashing at the bodies of his enemies. But as soon as one fell, another rushed up. Pitchforks and sickles were used to attack Henry. When he swung his sword again, it was the sound of weapons and farm tools clashing together.

"Damn it, why aren't you scared! Why aren't you running away with your tails between your legs!"

"Because we've already lost everything. My home, my family, nothing. My worthless life for you is worth it!" Attacks rained down on Henry, along with spit.

Thankfully, these rubble couldn't break through my defenses. The knight was safe now; his armor was sturdy enough, and these inexperienced farmers didn't even know how to use blunt weapons to break plate armor. He needed to fight his way out and rejoin his brothers to form a new formation.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through him as a blade pierced the gap between his helmet and breastplate, severing his muscles and blood vessels as horizontally as possible, like opening an oyster.

Impossible! My armor provides protection at the back! And when did it get to the back?

However, he couldn't see a grey elf standing behind him, stepping on the corpse of his kin, having just broken free of invisibility. A dagger emitting a green glow slowly pressed into Henry's armor, the point of contact with the blade rapidly corroding, until a fatal rust gash appeared in the armor as the dagger sank in.

"I had fantasized about dying at the hands of a woman, but I never imagined it would be a Mudblood." Henry's trachea was the last to be cut, and he still had the chance to say his last words.

The assassin coldly drew his dagger: "You died because of a female grey elf." Henry collapsed to the ground, and the surrounding elves cheered: "Sirsa! Sirsa!"

Silsha means freedom or independence in Elvish.

(End of this chapter)