Chapter 51: Crucial Battle

Phield stepped out of the grand manor, where Ashina had already assembled the troops.

The main building stood very close to the edge of the domain. Phield brought with him eighteen cavalrymen, forty-seven infantry soldiers, thirty temporarily armed slaves, and five militiamen made up of free citizens. Under the defense statutes, free citizens were obligated to defend the domain—though Phield had no intention of actually relying on them.

For this battle, aside from the wounded, the domain’s defensive forces had been stripped almost completely bare.

If Rosalia could not be defeated, there would be no point worrying about the domain anyway. There would be no such opportunity left.

Two men carrying wooden clubs approached. “Honorable lord, let us come as well. We can still fight.”

They were men who had been injured while defending the domain earlier. Although potions had been used to treat them, they still needed time to recover.

Phield patted them on the shoulders. “Recover first. That doesn’t mean you’re doing nothing—go supervise the slaves at work. That’s contributing to the domain too.”

The group set off. Along the way, mist-dispelling lamps lined the route, while large numbers of slaves constructed simple wooden fortifications as they went.

Building numerous low-cost small forts, layered defenses equipped with crossbows, and fighting a defensive counteroffensive was, for now, the optimal solution.

“Shame we don’t have firearms,” Phield said regretfully. “We’ll have to get some gunpowder technology sooner or later.”

The main building of the Starnight estate was a perfect fusion of romance and solemn grandeur. The Starnight family had cultivated the Northern Province for over two hundred and thirty years. Instead of building fortresses or castles, they had poured all their effort into creating this vast manor steeped in artistic flair.

Arcades, Roman columns, sculptures, and fountains filled the grounds. Unfortunately, none of that splendor preserved the Starnight bloodline. Their wealth and lands were eventually co-ruled and inherited by the distant Ross family—only to finally end up in Phield’s hands.

Outside the main building, slaves moved back and forth, clearing open ground and driving wooden stakes into the soil. Three crude semicircular wooden bastions began to take shape. Beyond that, wooden chevaux-de-frise were placed throughout the area. The greatest advantage of corrupted corpses was their numbers and fearlessness. As long as their numerical advantage was reduced with obstacles, they were not difficult to handle.

The slaves were also responsible for transporting purification potions, medical potions, crossbow bolts, and other military supplies, stacking them in the corners of the wooden forts.

The guards had already donned heavy armor. Long halberds rested on their shoulders—sharp, vicious blades forming two forests of polearms. Ben and Sam each led a unit. Though there were only a little over forty men, every one of them had fought multiple battles. They were no banner-waving ornaments, and morale surged through the ranks.

The warhorses paced restlessly. Phield tugged the reins and gave the order, “Cavalry, clear out the wandering small corpse groups.”

Animals seemed even more sensitive to danger than humans. The horses’ agitation was unprecedented.

“Whew—there’s no doubt Rosalia is powerful.” Phield stared at the blood-red warning marker on the mini-map, his heart tightening. “She’s yours, Ashina.”

“Leave her to me.” Ashina’s crimson eyes swept across the buildings as she extended a slender finger. “She should be in the basement. I can sense threats of varying strength in the other rooms, but the basement gives me a strange, deathly silence. That’s not normal.”

Ashina had guessed correctly. Phield gave her a thumbs-up.

“Should I charge in first and take a look?” Ashina asked.

Phield shook his head. “No rush. Save your strength. Before the enemy shows herself, clear out the surrounding corrupted corpses. I don’t want a repeat of last time, when they interfered. This fight needs to be finished in one go.”

Ashina nodded obediently.

Many of the corrupted corpses outside the main building had clothes rotted away, or fused together with flesh and blood, creating grotesque sights.

The cavalry burst from the left flank like a gale, sweeping across the square. The corpse horde was immediately split into smaller groups. Once those groups could no longer pose a threat, Kai led the cavalry to encircle them one by one. Armored horses slammed into bodies with crisp cracking sounds—direct hits shattered bones, glancing blows sent corpses tumbling, only to be trampled into pulp beneath iron hooves.

There was no need for lances. The cavalrymen casually swung their sabers, harvesting heads by the dozen.

Ashina’s training had been highly effective, and combined with intense real combat, the slave cavalry were already comparable to the household knights of minor lords.

It wouldn’t take long for these elite riders to wipe out the corrupted corpses on the outskirts.

The main building had four aboveground floors. Stone walls were overgrown with purple corrupted plants, and through shattered windows, the interior could be seen—overturned furniture and slime-like secretions left by corrupted creatures everywhere.

Clusters of corrupted corpses with vacant eyes pressed together. Most wore coarse linen, some still clad in tattered armor. Phield even spotted corrupted corpses dressed in mage robes.

“Careful. The sounds of battle have alerted them.”

Ashina had barely finished speaking when a mass of grotesque corrupted creatures poured out from the floor-to-ceiling windows on the third floor. One emaciated corrupted corpse slammed into the ground. Phield had no time to marvel before it charged forward in huge strides.

“One, two…” Ashina began counting.

“Uh, no need to count. There are too many—it’s impossible.” At a glance, over a hundred had surged out, with more still coming. Phield’s expression grew grim.

Ashina shook her head. “No. I’m analyzing their levels. There are quite a few extraordinary corrupted corpses.”

“Extraordinary corrupted corpses—and quite a few?” Phield’s eyelid twitched, but he remained calm as he signaled the cavalry to withdraw. “Call the cavalry back. Halberdiers, hold the wooden walls. Rear ranks, prepare to fire—use enchanted bolts.”

Slaves sounded the horn. The cavalry immediately disengaged and swept back to the formation from the right flank. Each rider was panting heavily, sabers trembling—not just from fatigue, but from overexcitement as adrenaline flooded their bodies.

Slaves moved constantly through the ranks, cocking crossbows and coating bolts with purification potion. What Phield called “enchantment” was simply soaking the bolt tips in purification potion. These potions imbued with divine power were extremely effective against corrupted monsters.

The corpse tide surged toward Ben’s wooden bastion at full speed. Behind the wooden walls, halberdiers stood in dense formation, thrusting their weapons forward toward the oncoming horde.

“Fire,” Phield ordered.

“Whoosh—” Ashina drew and released an arrow. The silver shaft, carrying the power of winter divinity, streaked forth like a brilliant comet and smashed into the head of a second-tier corrupted corpse at the front.

Its arrogant expression vanished—more precisely, most of its head was blown away.

“Toot! Toot!”

As if it were a signal, the guards and armed slaves in the rear ranks unleashed their crossbows. The sharp twangs erupted like fireworks in an instant.

There was no need to reload personally. Guards handed spent crossbows to the slaves behind them, who cocked them and returned them immediately.

Bolts tore through the air, triggering waves of wails and showers of blood within the horde. Large numbers of corrupted corpses fell like harvested wheat.

Crossbows already possessed tremendous power, and their targets were unarmored flesh.

Ordinary corrupted corpses died from a single bolt, some bolts even piercing through one body to kill another behind it. Extraordinary corrupted corpses, under the intense suppressive effect of purification potion, were also picked off with single shots. Even if they didn’t die outright, the violent burning sensation wracked their bodies, forcing even their numbed souls to feel agony and stripping them of combat capability.

Using purification potion in such quantities was extravagantly wasteful.

“Watch out for enemy ranged attacks.” Ashina said as she instinctively stepped in front of Phield, her attention fixed on the battlefield. “Let me take the offensive.”

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