Chapter 1058: They've Lucked Out

1058 They've Lucked Out

While calm on the surface, Jake was immediately struck by the absence of enemies. The landscape's devastation, marked by swamps of blood awash with corpses from both sides, testified to the brutal clash that had taken place. But now, only their allies remained.

Clearly, the outer wall had already been reclaimed. On the other side of it, though, the clash of metal, agonizing screams, and the blast of explosions told a different story.

Endless waves of these Underworld Barbarians, stretching as far as the eye could see, were relentlessly scaling the tall wall like a horde of ravenous zombies, vanishing over the edge with battle cries once they reached the top.

While the extent of the carnage left Jake unfazed, the same couldn't be uttered for the other recruits, many of whom were barely holding it together to not piss themselves in fear.

Witnessing the vast expanse of death and desolation up close, some instantly snapped from terror. Their reactions ranged from being petrified to wetting their pants, to outright dropping their weapons and bolting.

When General Torvi caught sight of this from the backlines, his face remained chillingly indifferent. But with just a glance at the deserters, he marked them for death. Several elite barbarians from his personal guard silently acknowledged the order, then vanished in a blur, causing a gust of wind.

Swooosh!

Moments later, they reappeared before the fleeing deserters, brandishing their swords overhead like executioners and intoned in unison, emotionless,

"The penalty for mutiny is death."

SLASH!

Their blades descended as inexorably as a guillotine, instantly cleaving dozens of bodies in two, with the spilled blood spraying tens of meters beyond the victims. In the blink of an eye, the executioners were back at their General's side.

Gulp!

Audible gulps echoed through the ranks of recruits from various regiments. But after that ruthless display of the consequences of mutiny, no one dared entertain such an idea again. Not even those on the front lines.

At least on the battlefield, they had a slim chance of survival. Besides, most had families to feed back home. If they deserted, what would become of them?

"Damn it! They're all damn bullies..." The former alcoholic vagabond spat out with all his venom. Apparently, sobriety hadn't made him any less sharp-tongued.

Before any more troops got any ideas about following the deserters, one of the senior officers standing next to General Torvi stepped forward. Clearing his throat humbly, he then bellowed with an authoritative voice that echoed for miles,

"CHARGE!"

Amplified by his tyrannical and murderous Lumyst Aura, the roar made every soldier's hair stand on end. But it was in their eyes that a shift occurred. The intense killing intent saturating his order should've paralyzed them, even taken out the weakest-minded instantly. Instead, it seemed to resonate within them, bolstering their spirits.

In a matter of seconds, Jake watched, skeptical, as the tens of thousands of previously demotivated and terrified recruits started roaring with bloodthirsty fervor, as if they'd just mainlined adrenaline.

The cynical vagabond, who'd been so jaded moments earlier, now bore the same lunatic fury. Only Sank-Uk looked somewhat normal, although Jake could see him gritting his teeth, a prominent vein bulging on his forehead.

'So that's how they get them to obey, Jake thought appreciatively, feeling inspired. 'Pretty slick move!

At that moment, Meribelle's voice chimed in his head, explaining, "This is one of the ultimate forms the Lumyst Aura can take - The General's Aura. It's a mix of killing intent, authority, and charisma that can rally and influence allied troops while intimidating the enemies. Depending on the army's size it resonates with and the esteem the troops have for their commander, its power and reach are exponentially boosted, which in turn enhances the user's combat ability. It's a terrifyingly virtuous cycle.

"Completely broken," Jake remarked sarcastically at the end of her rundown, glad he'd kept a low profile. It wasn't a Fifth Ordeal for nothing.

[These locals aren't as powerless as they seem.] Xi agreed silently in his head, a distinct note of seriousness in his voice. [If they control enough troops and their authority is acknowledged, a General with this type of Lumyst Aura can become far more formidable than they inherently are. It's manageable with just a few thousand troops, but what about the Great General overseeing all these armies? What if they're already strong?]

Instead of replying, Jake cast a look behind him, his gaze now more intense than ever zeroing in on the distant Vorzhul Rider perched atop Grimstone Keep. If this native's mental reach and voice could span far enough to encompass all the armies stationed at Havocspire, then he'd be one hell of a difficult nut to crack, even for Jake.

And if their side had its own Great General... then the enemy definitely had theirs.

'So, diving headfirst and trying to take down the dragon's head isn't the brightest idea after all, Jake concluded, suppressing his last traces of reluctance.

These Titans, Abyssal Revenants, and Radiant Conclave members had always banked solely on their individual strength. Sure, one-on-one, their power dwarfed that of these generals. But when backed by their armies, it was a whole different ball game.

Maybe that's why entities like the Soulmancer King or the Celestial needed massive armies as their backbone. They acted both as a shield and a power source to ramp up their own capabilities.

Because it essentially meant that before you strike at a General, you've gotta chip away at his army, thinning their ranks. General Torvi's words to Sank-Uk took on a whole new meaning.

But before Jake could ponder any further, another booming command snapped him back to the now.

"CHARGE!" The commander, who had bellowed the initial order, roared once more, and like a primal beast stirred from its slumber, the vast army responded with raw ferocity.

The sinew of 150,000 soldiers tightened, veins bulging in exertion, and with bloodshot eyes, every last barbarian, without exception, surged forward in a frenzied charge. Jake, at the frontline, had no choice but to get swept up in their momentum.

'Are they high or just plain stupid? We're at least a kilometer or two away from the fortification, Jake ranted internally, dumbfounded.

Unlike him, and no matter how strong these barbarians were, under this world's gravity they were just lumbering brutes. Stamina and speed? Not exactly their forte...

At least, that was true for the untrained conscripts yet to develop their Lumyst Aura. But ironically, when Jake glanced back, he noticed the seasoned troops forming the rear guard had already slowed down, leaving the bulk of the army made up of greenhorns to face the brunt of danger.

'Figures, Jake thought, sneering as he kept pace.

Huff! Huff!

Barely fifteen or twenty seconds passed before the first signs of weariness emerged. First came rapid breaths, then gasping, and finally, wheezing ensued. Confronted by their stark physical limitations, their blazing sprint fizzled out, and already winded, they began to jog, or more accurately, drag their feet towards the walls.

A fleeting look of scorn clouded Jake's face as he witnessed the rookie mistake unfold before him. These naive recruits could be pardoned, but not the commander who sent them on this fool's errand...

Because here's the kicker: these rookies were still under the influence of his Lumyst Aura. Even gasping, faces swollen and turning a bluish hue, these barbarians were still continuing their mindless charge without breaking stride. It was merely their physiological boundaries reining them in.

And as expected, some couldn't hold the line...

After just over a kilometer, several barbarians, already tested by their brutal baptism, dropped dead, victims of sudden cardiac arrests. Perhaps they had underlying heart defects or weaker wills that stripped them of basic self-preservation, but the grim reality stood clear.

They had literally run themselves to death, trying to obey an order at any cost. The cost? Their very lives. And still, they failed, perishing namelessly long before reaching the wall....

Jake wanted to keep a low profile, but with Meribelle helming his regiment, he could at least lend a hand to those nearby. An unseen thread of lifeforce darted out from his fingertip, and with a flick, he connected it to the rest of his regiment, mimicking a rudimentary version of the Vitality Link from his faction.

Instantly, he felt a portion of their fatigue transfer to him. But compared to his titan-like constitution, it was a mere drop in the ocean. Thanks to this simple spell, not only was their regiment the first to reach the wall, but they also suffered the fewest casualties.

General Torvi, keeping tabs on Sank-Uk's regiment, raised an eyebrow in surprise at their uncanny advantage over the others. Far from suspecting Jake or Sank-Uk, he instead eyed the young woman soaring above them.

"It's rare to see those damn Soulmancers waste their energy like that. They've lucked out," he remarked loudly, not bothering to conceal the contempt dripping from his words. "But being first doesn't mean they'll meet a more honorable end. Quite the opposite, actually..."