Daily News: Insect Girls' Heavy Dependence

The camera then shifts back to Cassandra and her group.

"Oh! Knight Jehovah, you've misunderstood! They didn't throw it; my hand slipped and I couldn't catch it properly!"

The veteran soldier quickly stepped forward to smooth things over, his tone tinged with a cautious apology.

The Knight of Jehovah then glanced sullenly at the group of noble youths, muttered a few curses under his breath, and turned to return to the castle with heavy steps.

Cassandra tried to comfort her with a few words, but it was to no avail.

The noblewoman suddenly stood up, tears streaming down her face, her voice choked with sobs and broken into fragments:

"Father...Father will not forgive you...He will definitely avenge me!"

Hearing this untimely threat, Cassan Isa frowned, her tone turning cold:

"Why even mention your father? We're living five hundred years in the past; your father probably wasn't even born yet!"

Actually, Cassandra's words already left room for interpretation.

Jehovah was the first Duke of Southern Xinjiang, a man of unparalleled prestige; while this noble lady was merely a descendant of an earl family that rose to prominence two hundred years later. For her to stage such an incident was utterly absurd.

I couldn't be bothered to pay any more attention to that guy who was still crying and complaining.

Cassandra gripped her axe tightly, abruptly stood up, her gaze sweeping over the crowd, and solemnly announced:

"From now on, we may only be able to survive by our own strength!"

The other noblemen complained for a long time, but in the end they couldn't resist reality and could only reluctantly stand up and pick up the heavy axe.

Although they possessed the basic physical attributes of knights due to the implanted worms, they never suffered any hardship or fatigue.

The tree-cutting movements were relatively nimble thanks to their physical strength, but their palms, which had never done rough work before, were covered with dense blisters in just half a day. The burning pain went straight to their bones, making their noses sting and their eyes well up with tears.

Finally, it got dark.

They carried the collected timber back to the castle.

Everyone thought they could finally get some rest, but little did they know that even more complicated work awaited them.

The stench of dung piled up in the stables was overwhelming; fingertips were worn red from wiping the knights' heavy armor; sparks flew as rusty weapons were polished; heavy stones were carried on shoulders as the walls were repaired; and there was endless chopping of firewood, making it hard to even hold the axe.

What devastated them even more was that after Dior discovered that some of them could read, he made them carve tombstones.

In the frigid winds of this northern snowfield, death is never a distant matter, but a sword hanging over everyone's head.

Even Dio Kiel himself was already prepared to die in the next insect swarm.

Fortress No. 13 may never receive aid from the Papal Knights.

Of course, these were all carefully crafted plots by Richard and Yekaterin.

These later generations naturally had no way of knowing how Dior became the goddess's guardian knight, or why he ultimately rebelled against her.

Endless labor weighed on the young nobles like a mountain, almost crushing them.

As night fell, several girls huddled in a corner, their eyes filled with desperate hope, secretly wondering if they could find that secret room again and touch those eerie tentacles once more.

Perhaps in that way, they could escape the unbearable suffering of five hundred years ago and return to their own era of luxury and ease.

But reality dealt them a heavy blow. As soon as they tried to get closer to the depths of the castle, they were caught red-handed by patrolling soldiers and severely whipped.

How could the Knight of Dio allow these people of unknown origin to roam freely in Fortress 13?

Even more unbearable was the hunger. Several people went three whole days without eating a single grain of rice. In the middle of the night, the hunger raged and they tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

In the end, it was that kind-hearted old auxiliary soldier who secretly slipped them a few cold, hard potatoes under the cover of night.

The rough skin, carrying the scent of earth, was a lifesaver in that moment. These few bites of cold potatoes were what kept them afloat through the long night.

This experience as a support soldier lasted for a full week.

The pampered young masters and ladies of the past are now experiencing twice as much of the hardship they endured when they had tormented the servants.

Now, whenever food is distributed, those potatoes that they would never have even glanced at before, even if they're roasted until they're charred, are eaten with extra relish, and they can't bear to waste even the bitter outer skin.

At this moment, they had long lost any semblance of their noble bearing. Fortress No. 13 was severely lacking in water, and there were no conditions for washing their faces or brushing their teeth. Everyone was filthy, their faces covered in dirt and dust, making them almost indistinguishable from the other auxiliary soldiers.

Only their tattered yet still recognizable clothes silently proclaimed their incompatibility with the times.

In the director's room.

Rhine looked at the disheveled crowd on the screen below, his tone somewhat dismissive:

"If you think that making them suffer a little will change their mindset, then you're being naive."

Richard yawned, a hint of interest flashing in his eyes: "The game has only just begun, what's the rush?"

……

On this day, the young masters and ladies, covered in dust and dirt, were still cutting down trees outside the city.

After a week of training, their movements have become much more agile, and they can fall a large tree that takes one person to hug in just a few moves.

After all, most of them are at the third-tier mature stage, and their physical strength is already there.

However, in this seemingly peaceful forest, a strange change suddenly occurred.

Suddenly, a teeth-grinding "crunch crunch" sound came from deep within the woods.

It was like countless bones rubbing against each other, or like hard shells colliding.

Immediately afterwards, the ground beneath my feet began to tremble slightly, the tremors growing stronger and stronger, as if a giant beast was approaching.

The veteran auxiliary soldier's face turned deathly pale instantly, and he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Retreat! It's a swarm of insects! Run!"

Almost without hesitation, all the auxiliary soldiers picked up the tools placed at their feet, turned around, and ran wildly towards the castle.

At the same time, a sharp and mournful horn sounded from above the castle.

That's an alarm that signifies the highest level of danger!

"What happened?" The noble young masters, who were a little further away, hadn't reacted yet.

The veteran soldier ran over, panting, and grabbed the person closest to him.

He roared, "Run! The insect swarm is coming! If you don't run, you're dead!"

It was only then that they belatedly realized this.

The legendary horde of insects has truly arrived!

Run! Run for your life!

The group ran for their lives, completely unaware that the towering drawbridge at the castle's triangular point had been retracted.

A line of knights stood ready in front.

That was the cavalry regiment led by Knight Dio. The six-legged warhorses beneath them were breathing heavily, with undigested meat still stuck in their mouths, and their beastly eyes gleamed with bloodlust.

"Make way! Make way! The knights are about to charge!" The old auxiliary soldier suddenly rushed over and shoved several noble youths around him against the walls on both sides of the mountain.

Seeing this, the others also fell to the ground, making way for the knights to charge.

The leading knight, Dio, was covered from head to toe, along with the tall, six-legged warhorse he rode, in heavy black iron armor.

Sunlight shone on the armor, reflecting a cold, icy light. His imposing body, encased in the armor, resembled a war god emerging from hell.

Every step he took shook the earth; his indomitable spirit instilled a sense of security in one's heart.

"Knight—Charge!!!"

A deafening roar ripped through the sky.

Immediately following, countless roars echoed across the battlefield like overlapping mountains.

Dozens of knights simultaneously spurred their warhorses, their hooves pounding the frozen ground, charging headlong towards the insect beasts that were rushing out of the forest.

Those insectoid beasts were clearly a variant of the Silverwing Hunting Insects.

Most of them were already at the late stage of the third tier, with three-meter-long bodies covered in hard outer armor and a pair of silver wings spread out on their backs.

What's most terrifying are the two pairs of iconic bone sickles on their chests, gleaming with a chilling light. With just a light swing, they can easily cleave a person in two, bones and all.

At this moment, the insect beasts swarmed out, and as far as the eye could see, the dense swarms of insects covered almost the entire mountainside, both in the sky and on the ground.

In the director's room, Yekalin stared at the overwhelming swarm of insects on the screen, speechless with astonishment.

"So many Tier 3 insectoid beasts? And several Tier 4 ones too! With the limited forces at Fortress 13, I'm afraid we can't hold them off, can we?"

However, Richard did not respond to her questioning.

At this moment, a fanatical smile was curling at the corner of his mouth; he had already quietly taken over the body of the Dio Knight.

At this moment, he was not a bystander, but a knight about to charge into battle!

He wanted to personally feel the tactile sensation of the blade slicing through the insect armor, to experience this baptism of blood and fire!

"Knight—Charge!"

He shouted the slogan again, his voice filled with unwavering determination.

As if summoned, all the six-legged warhorses simultaneously let out a roar that shook everything. The sound pierced the eardrums and went straight to the soul, making the noble youths lying at the foot of the wall tremble.

The earth-shaking charge began!

The knights, like sharp spears, plunged fiercely into the surging sea of ​​insects.

In an instant, the battle cries of charging knights, the crackling sound of warhorses crushing insect armor, the dull thud of giant hammers shattering insect shells, and the ear-piercing sound of bone scythes colliding with armor intertwined, composing a tragic yet passionate war song.

Such a tragic and magnificent war scene gradually shocked the minds of these pampered young nobles.

They lay prone against the wall, watching helplessly as the knights used their flesh and blood to hold back the ferocious swarm of insects. As they saw the sharp blades pierce the insect armor and blood splatter, an unprecedented surge of fervor began to awaken within their veins.

With each pump of their heart, hot blood roared and surged to their brains, making their veins throb and their bodies tremble slightly.

"Could it be... that our ancestors, in such dire circumstances, used their own flesh and blood to withstand such a terrifying horde of insects?"

A young nobleman muttered to himself, his eyes filled with shock and bewilderment, and a hint of reverence that he himself was unaware of.