Chapter 1151: Sweeping Calm Again

Under the attack of the arachne and werewolves, the outer defensive line fell to the brink of collapse. Under the cover of the fierce battles and the darkness, these countless small venomous spiders brought about grave casualties among the mercenaries. The first defensive line was already full of openings in the blink of an eye.

A row of star-shells appeared once again over the battlefront. The daybreak-saturated radiance was the bane of those small spiders as well. Screeching, the little creatures began to smoke from their bodies as they curled up under the light.

Swathes of little spiders were roasted to death, allowing the front-line soldiers to finally breathe easy.

"Retreat to the second defensive line!" The officers shouted at the top of their lungs.

Under the illumination of the star-shells, the surviving mercenaries sped back to the second line as quickly as they could. The dark race soldiers went berserk from the smell of blood and burnt flesh. The stronger ones chased after the retreating enemy despite their blurry vision.

The silent second defensive line lit up with the glow of origin power as origin bullets whistled toward the dark race soldiers charging at the front. The heavy cannons rumbled as they rained shells upon the first defensive line.

This time, the dark race experts didn't have time to block the incoming attack. All they could do was watch as the projectiles erupted into waves of flames upon impact, devouring the dark race soldiers.

The cover-volley from the heavy cannons was cruel and effective, so much so that the mercenaries who had failed to escape the area in time were blasted to death in the first defensive line. The dark race soldiers at the front were naturally drowned in the cannonfire as well.

The survivors from the first line of defense made use of this lapse to retreat to the second line. After that momentary pause, the sea of dark race soldiers once again rushed toward the second line of defense.

This time, the rain of bullets didn't just come from the entrenchments but also from some of the buildings behind it. The defense force's firepower wasn't only concentrated but also formed an interweaving network, inflicting heavy casualties on the dark races.

The werewolf marquis only narrowed his eyes, but Hunter couldn't help but jump up in fright. "Why are there so many people?"

From the looks of it, the second defensive line contained double the number of soldiers compared to the first! This type of troop distribution went against common knowledge, but the effects were extremely evident. The dark races who had just seen some hope at victory suffered yet another painful setback, and some of the sacrifices were genuinely unexpected.

The werewolf marquis said, "Looks like there are more than three to four thousand people in the city. I think Sire Pratt is about to run into a snag."

"How did they ship so many people here?"

The marquis didn't reply. His gaze landed on a tall arachne at the center of the battlefield.

Under the fierce bombardment from the second line of defense, even that enormous body was finding it hard to press forward.

At this moment, on an airship hovering at a safe distance. Arachne Vice-Duke Pratt had just finished listening to his subordinate's report. "How is this possible? They're just a small force that has landed behind our backs. No way they have ten thousand men! You useless men, are you all blind?"

The arachne viscount wanted to say something but didn't dare.

With a loud snort, Pratt walked onto the deck and gazed into the distance. Considering his powerful eyesight, he could vaguely make out the situation on the battlefield.

With the Martyr's Palace around, he wouldn't dare bring his flagship out into the open. Since the dragonship could tear apart a grand duke's war vessel, he would simply be throwing his life away by going against it.

That was why Pratt had switched to a high-speed destroyer to serve as his flagship. This warship couldn't approach the battlefield, so it could only look on from afar.

Pratt observed the situation for a good while, surprised by the ferocity of the battle around the second defensive line.

Moments later, his expression turned solemn. "The humans cannot have that many people, they must've placed all their manpower in the second defensive line. Humph, do you think I will fall for that trick? Issue the command, intensify the attack!"

"Sire, the casualties seem to be quite high on the front lines."

"Idiots! Cannon fodder isn't worth shit. We can get as many of them as we want from some of those lower continents. Duke Romier's main force will arrive if we can't take down Whitetown in half a day. I don't want to hand the credits to that old vampire!"

Soon after the werewolf viscount's departure, the assault on the frontlines increased noticeably. Pratt nodded in satisfaction when he saw an increasing number of flames erupt on the human defensive line.

At the center of the dark race formation, that tall arachne had finally reached the human defensive line. He stepped out from the raging fire and smoke, his body covered in thick steel armor. The hail of bullets only left dimples on the plates, and only the uncovered places sustained some minor injuries.

The arachne had a three-barrel gatling gun in his right hand, each muzzle the size of a fist. This weapon weighed a ton, but it seemed as light as a kid's toy in the spider's hand.

Wherever the gatling gun was pointed, fierce explosions would resound from that direction, and the human soldiers nearby would be sent flying from the blast. Those at the center of the explosion would not even have corpses left. Everything else that was a nuisance to the arachne would also be removed from his line of sight.

There was a large cleaver in the arachne's left hand. The large, square blade was enough to slash through an armored vehicle, almost like a guillotine.

"Concentrate fire on that big fellow!" a mercenary general shouted hysterically. At the same time, he raised his hand cannon and spat out a mass of red light.

The cannon shell landed squarely between the arachne's chest and abdomen, bursting into a big ball of light therein. The arachne's exposed skin was charred, but his fighting power was completely unaffected.

The attack only served to ignite his fury. The arachne charged dozens of meters with a single leap and landed before that mercenary general, where he swung the cleaver down upon his target!

The mercenary general was in despair, but all he could do was raise his hand cannon to block the strike. The resistance was naturally futile—the square cleaver promptly bisected the cannon and its wielder.

This mercenary general was the commander of the second defensive line. The arachne was overflowing with ferocity after killing the officer. He beat his chest and roared thunderously, "My name is Virtuous Count Medlosi, who dares fight me!?"

His shout echoed across the battlefield, filling the mercenaries with varying degrees of despair. The dark race army's morale shot up as they charged forward with greater ardor.

It was at this time that a certain person appeared in Medlosi's vision. A slim, fragile-looking silhouette that wasn't all that tall. It was a vampire, a member of the race he hated the most.

How could there be a vampire in the human defensive line?

Medlosi was so consumed by his battle-hunger that his reactions were somewhat slow. He had just thought of this problem when that figure somehow appeared in front of him!

Gazing at the heavy sword bearing down on him, Medlosi reflexively swung his cleaver to parry it. Unexpectedly, that little fellow who was even thinner than one of his spider legs dared to go head-on against him!

East Peak's weight caused Medlosi's expression to change drastically. However, he no longer had any time or space to evade; all he could do was watch as the heavy word sliced him from between the brows all the way down to his abdomen.

Medlosi's giant spider body froze momentarily before collapsing with a boom. Even before his death, he still hadn't realized how such a small creature could possess enough strength to overwhelm him.

Qianye landed on the arachne's body like a wad of drifting cotton. The fallen count's remains stood as tall as a small hill, affording Qianye a good view of the entire battlefield.

The fight had already reached its height, and the second defensive line had been broken through in several areas. The smell of smoke and blood had long since awakened the dark race's inherent ferocity, forcing them to pounce on any visible target.

Qianye, who was standing on Medlosi's body, became an eye-catching objective.

Almost at the same time, all the nearby dark races pounced at Qianye. They were like a tide of darkness surging over him.

Qianye simply stood there with his sword in hand, but the dark race soldiers at the front felt as though they had bumped into an invisible wall. Those at the back had no idea what was happening up front, so they kept pushing forward and ramming into the person in front.

In the blink of an eye, a wave of dark race soldiers were packed densely around Qianye. Some of the more violent ones simply jumped up and stepped over the shoulders of their comrades toward Qianye.

Seeing that a fair number of enemies had gathered around him, Qianye removed his origin barrier with a cold smile. The dark race warriors suddenly lost their balance and collapsed before Medlosi's corpse.

Qianey took a deep breath and slashed six times in every direction!

East Peak slashed down silently, almost as though it had no weight, but wherever the sword pointed, droves of dark race soldiers would stiffen and fall to the ground. A puddle of blood would eventually seep out from under their bodies, but no one knew where the wound was.

In the blink of an eye, the area around Qianye had become a land of death, with only a handful of dark race soldiers still standing.

Everything became silent on the distant dark race flagship. With a loud bang, the wine glass in Pratt's hand was crushed into pieces. This was his favorite wine glass, but he couldn't feel anything from its destruction.

Amidst the hundreds of corpses and a handful of dark race soldiers, Qianye was feeling a bit regretful. This Sweeping Calm was something he had tempered back in the year, a powerful move that was suitable against groups.

However, it was so powerful that it was difficult to control. Even with Qianye's current attainments and cultivation, he could only manage six slashes. He would need to produce eight slashes to reach the highest realm and sweep through every direction.

Even though there were a few missed angles, none of the dark race soldiers could block a single strike. They would lose their lives immediately upon contact with the sword energy, and only those who happened to be at the right location managed to survive.

Qianye snorted as his eyes landed on the dozen or so dark race soldiers. This soft sound felt like roaring thunder to their ears, frightening them so much that they turned and fled, their ferocity suppressed by the overwhelming strength.

With the momentum of defeat spreading to all parts of the battlefield, the dark races once again retreated like the tides and the assault was thus dispersed.

Seeing this, Qianye turned back and vanished into the buildings.

Pratt stood dazed for a moment before jumping about. "Attack! Keep on attacking! He's just bluffing, everyone charge!"