369: Chapter 358 The Final Offensive. What does the fall of the kingdom have to do with us Saint-level beings?

Brando left, departing in such a great hurry that he didn't even have time to say goodbye.

Novak waved away his adjutant and sat back down in his wooden chair, a growing sense of unease rising in his heart.

Reasonably speaking, it shouldn't be like this.

Although Brando had accompanied the army ever since they set out, he had never indicated he would participate in the war; instead, he emphasized that he was merely an observer.

Why care about the departure of an irrelevant person?

Yet, for some reason, Novak felt a sense of eeriness permeating everything.

Even if there were urgent matters to handle back home, surely there was enough time to say a quick word?

"It's almost... like he's fleeing for his life," Novak muttered. "What is he afraid of?"

Even if the allied forces were defeated, or even if the entire army was wiped out within Lake's borders, what did it have to do with him?

He hadn't participated, after all.

Novak sat there in silent contemplation. His intuition told him that if he could figure this out, his unease would vanish.

However, after thinking for a long time without finding a clue, he gave up in frustration.

"Just why..."

With the strange feeling lingering in his heart, Novak grew irritable. He stood up and summoned his adjutant.

"Lord Marshal."

"Go and assemble the cavalry."

"As you command!"

Since he couldn't figure it out, he would stop thinking about it. Once Lake was leveled, any unease would naturally dissipate.

Novak gave himself a mental pat on the back for his brilliant decision.

...

The Allied Forces Main Camp.

Zhang Mu hovered in the air, gazing toward the horizon with a puzzled look.

That figure just now... why did it look so familiar?

Hmm... leaving the camp at this time and heading toward the border... going back to bring reinforcements?

Zhang Mu had already figured out the allied forces' true strength, so he didn't care if they brought reinforcements. He stopped overthinking it, landed, and began wandering around the camp to gather intelligence.

The camp was filled with patrolling ordinary Soldiers, so there wouldn't be any secrets there. Thus, Zhang Mu began checking the tents one by one.

After ducking into over a hundred Soldiers' tents, he finally found the commander-in-chief's.

He looked around, but unfortunately, aside from a map spread out on the table, there were no surprising discoveries.

The allied commander seemed to store important military intelligence in crystals and carried them on his person.

Zhang Mu wasn't disappointed. He dusted himself off and walked out, preparing to return.

"Rumble—"

Just as he stepped out, the ground suddenly vibrated. He realized that only the Mutated Rhino-Oxen could create such a commotion among the allied forces.

Assembling the cavalry... are they going all out?

Zhang Mu knew very well how heavy the pressure from the Earth weapons he had pulled out one after another was on the natives of the Saul Continent.

After all, in war, the greatest taboo is for the enemy to possess power unknown to one's own side.

"Let's go take a look." Following the principle of 'since I'm already here,' Zhang Mu put his hands behind his back and strolled toward the source of the sound, soon arriving at a clearing.

In the clearing, the remaining twenty-odd thousand Mutated Rhino-Ox cavalry of the allied forces were lined up in neat formations.

Today's weather was not pleasant. Heavy, leaden clouds obscured the sun. Though it was high noon, the light around them was somewhat dim. A fierce wind swept through, picking up grass clippings that stuck to the snapping banners before being whisked away an instant later.

This group of cavalry was indeed the elite legion of the allied forces.

The cavalrymen sitting on the backs of the Pack Rhinos had solemn, murderous expressions, their eyes not even blinking against the wind.

"They've actually got some skill," Zhang Mu said casually as he watched from a distance. "Too bad the Pack Rhino's skin can't withstand a tank blast."

Cavalry wouldn't be assembled for no reason. Clearly, the allied commander had lost his patience and was unwilling to continue the stalemate with Lake on the plains.

Zhang Mu squinted for a moment, then soared into the sky, arriving at Domit's Command Post.

"Have you received the frontline intelligence?"

Domit had grown accustomed to his Marshal's coming and going without a trace. He straightened his back and said, "According to the footage sent back by the drones, the allied forces assembled most of their main legions, including the Rhinoceros Cavalry, this afternoon."

"They likely intend to launch a general offensive."

"How do you plan to respond?"

"Stick to the original plan and let the allied forces in to be surrounded and annihilated?"

Domit smiled. "That was my plan before the First Armored Corps entered the battlefield, but now... I don't think it's necessary."

"Oh? Tell me the details."

"I've already understood the specifics of the First Armored Corps. Their most prominent feature isn't just relying on tanks to blast the enemy to pieces, but combined arms—infantry-tank coordination."

"Compared to letting the enemy army into the mountainous regions to fight a guerrilla war, I prefer to rely on infantry-tank coordination to crush them head-on."

Zhang Mu didn't express his own view but asked, "In that case, Soldier losses will be a bit higher."

"It's unavoidable." Domit's voice grew somewhat cold. "Our strategic goal isn't just to keep the enemy from our gates; it's to counterattack."

"To do that, the Soldiers' combat effectiveness must be improved. At the very least, they must reach a point where they do not fear the flames of war."

"A rotation?"

"Yes. I envision that before the allied forces collapse, every single legion must go to the front line at least once."

"You are the supreme commander now; you decide."

Zhang Mu turned to leave, saying as he went, "You don't need to worry about the allied Saints. Damu and the others are already ready for battle. Along with me and the three Saints, we can stop them."

"Yes, sir!"

...

The Allied Forces Main Camp.

Novak stood on a wooden platform, looking down at the seemingly endless array of Soldiers. The slight trepidation he had felt a few hours ago had mostly vanished.

It wouldn't be hard to make the remaining bit of it leave him as well.

Novak ordered the Soldiers to move out of the camp to prepare for departure, while he himself went to a tent somewhere in the main camp.

Five Saints were either reclining on beds, sitting on the edges of beds, or standing in corners, each lost in their own thoughts.

Seeing Novak enter, four of them remained unresponsive. The last one looked up and said, "What is it?"

"Everyone," Novak said, bowing slightly. "The general offensive is about to begin."

"You are the commander; you don't need to seek our permission for these things."

"I hope you all will take action directly." Novak didn't beat around the bush and stated his purpose for coming here plainly.

The four who had been busy with their own thoughts all shifted their gazes to him simultaneously. Novak suddenly felt his whole body grow heavy, as if a mountain were pressing down on his back.

At this moment, the most correct course of action would be to turn around and leave immediately, but Novak's face was flushed and covered in sweat, yet his legs remained firmly rooted to the ground.

"Alright, any further and he'll die." The Saint who had spoken first intervened, and the other four indifferently averted their gazes.

The male Saint who had helped looked at the struggling Novak. "What are you thinking?"

"I need you all to help me deal with Lake's Saints."

"And then?"

"And then I will defeat the enemy army."

"Why must you insist on this life-and-death struggle?"

Novak was stunned for a moment, then said loudly, "We are already at war with Lake. The outcome of war is either you die or I live. If we are defeated, Lake will surely..."

"...surely retaliate?"

"Yes!"

"What is the result of that retaliation?"

"The destruction of the nations in the alliance!"

"So?" The male Saint spread his hands. "The nations fall—what does that have to do with us?"

He looked at Novak's stunned expression, which seemed unable to comprehend, and sighed before continuing: "The five of us facing off against Grand Duke Bulova and the other two... the chance of victory is indeed very high."

"But Lake's heritage is far stronger than ours. Bulova has no shortage of magic to study, while we have to scour mazes ourselves to collect it."

"Crucially, after all that effort, it's still not as good as Lake's."

"This means that even if we use our numbers to gain an advantage, we might be taken down in a one-for-one trade by a desperate Bulova and his companions."

"There are three of them; they can take three of us with them."

"That's the problem. None of the five of us want to be one of those three."

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Novak understood perfectly, yet he also didn't understand. He said blankly, "You... do you not care if your own kingdoms are destroyed?"

"Didn't I just say it?"

"The kingdom's downfall—what does that have to do with us?"

They were Saints. No matter what level of nation they went to—even an empire—they would receive respect and hospitality, as well as ample cultivation resources. Nothing would change for them.

Although their status might be slightly lower than the absolute veneration they received now, they felt it was a poor trade to risk their lives just for the sake of a minor difference in prestige.

Novak was dazed for a long while, then suddenly laughed. "Then... then why did you accompany the army on this campaign?"

"At the time, we thought the allied forces were certain to win." The male Saint's answer was short and clear.

"I cannot... cannot accept this."

This Saint truly had a good temper. He wasn't at all angry at the offense and said cheerfully, "That's where you're wrong."

"Look, it wasn't easy for us to cultivate to the Saint level, was it?"

A kingdom only produces one or two Saints; it was indeed not easy.

Novak nodded.

"So, you should show me some consideration. I just want to ascend to God's Blessing in my lifetime. What's wrong with that?"

As he spoke, he walked up to Novak and patted his shoulder. "Rest assured, once I successfully ascend to God's Blessing, I will surely slaughter Lake to avenge you all."

This probably wasn't just an excuse; Novak believed that if such a day truly came, he would fulfill his promise.

But... what if Lake also had someone with God's Blessing by then?

He would probably have to wait until he ascended to Epic level.

Novak's lips twitched in a stiff smile. "I'll be going now."

The four Saints who had remained silent throughout had cold expressions, but he didn't care. He turned, lifted the door flap, and walked out.

"Hmph—" one of them snorted, their Mental Energy surging.

The male Saint raised a hand to stop them. "It's not easy for us, and it's not easy for him either. Let it go."

The restrained Saint calmed their Mental Energy and said with slight dissatisfaction, "Disrespecting a Saint is a crime and should be punished."

"Restrain your arrogance. I expect it won't be long before we have to seek refuge in another country. If you act like this on someone else's territory, you'll offend people."

A female Saint shook her head. "To be honest, I'm really not willing to humble myself."

"Am I?"

"But isn't there no other way?"

"Or rather, are you confident you can take down Bulova and the others?"

"Don't forget, among those three, one is a specialist in assassination."

"A Saint-level Assassin... Lake's resources are truly lavish."

"Who told them to be the inheritors of the Ice and Snow Empire?" The male Saint smiled nonchalantly. "If this were ten thousand years ago, even meeting the Ice and Snow King would be a pipe dream. Being able to act arrogantly on his territory for a while now is a great deal."

"The past is the past; the present is the present."

"Alright, alright, I won't argue with you. Let's get moving."

"Mhm."

The Soldiers, naturally, knew nothing of what had transpired inside the tent.

Novak didn't reveal anything to anyone either. He even maintained a confident smile, as if he had successfully persuaded the five Saints.

"Lord Marshal, the Soldiers have finished assembling outside the camp."

"Move out."

"As you command!"

The orders were passed down through the ranks and soon spread through the entire army. The army was divided into three groups, departing in sequence at half-hour intervals.

Novak mounted his own steed, a high-level magical beast, and watched as the last legion disappeared over the horizon.

The King had told him a few days ago that reinforcements were on the way, but the request for all the Saints to be deployed could not be met.

At the time, he thought the various nations were wary of each other, fearing that if they sent out all their Saints, they would be attacked by other countries.

Now it seemed that those Saints had received word from the five on the front lines and were making plans to flee.

Since they were already preparing to run, they naturally wouldn't come to the front line.

"Heh, a bunch of pathetic wretches," Novak laughed mockingly.

...

On the plains, the allied vanguard was slowly marching across the grass.

Their orders were to attack Lake's remaining cities, and they were currently in enemy territory, yet the Soldiers and officers were not very vigilant.

Small-scale skirmishes had been occurring, but those were in the corners of the plains, while they were in the central region, so they didn't need to worry about being ambushed.

At least, that was how it was supposed to be.

"Rumble—"

A roar like thunder suddenly erupted ahead. No one thought it was actually thundering.

Firstly, because there was no lightning in the sky, and secondly... the sound seemed to come from underground.

The officers ordered their Soldiers to prepare for battle while staring warily ahead.

The source of the strange noise soon appeared.

Its "head" burst through the grass from underground. It didn't move on limbs—it had no limbs at all. Only two circular chain tracks made of interlocking metal plates could be seen turning, driving its body as it crawled out of the pit at an angle.

This was...

The Soldiers and officers stared blankly at the strange thing they had never seen before, and for a moment, they actually forgot to react, until...

"Boom—"

Over a hundred tanks that had crawled onto the ground fired simultaneously. Shells exploded among the groups of Soldiers, and various body parts were hurled onto Soldiers further from the impact points.

They were stunned by the hellish carnage and stood in place, at a loss for what to do.

The First Armored Corps would not dither.

The grass around the tanks was "pushed away" from below, and Lake Soldiers wearing camouflage crawled out of the pits, holding guns in one hand and gripping the edge of the pit with the other.

Sharp-eyed Professionals saw from a distance that the square-shaped patches of "grass" tossed aside were actually wooden boards covered with a layer of grass for camouflage.

Although Novak didn't hold much hope for victory in the war, it didn't mean he had given up trying.

He guessed that Lake already knew of his movements and would inevitably set ambushes along the way.

The exact locations were unpredictable, but it wasn't a big problem; he would just send a group of people to scout the way.

The scouting Soldiers would most likely be sacrificed, so it was best to keep the losses to a minimum.

Thus, the vanguard was not large, numbering only fifty thousand men.

With so few Soldiers and very few Professionals, the First Armored Corps needed only three rounds of shelling to immediately send them into a rout, screaming as they fled backward.

The Professionals tried to calm and regroup the chaotic mess of Soldiers, but to little effect. Instead, they were swept along by the terrified Soldiers and fled back the way they came.

On the First Armored Corps' side, orders rang out from the speakers in all the tank cockpits.

"Pursue."

The tank commanders used their dedicated channels to contact the Soldiers around the tanks to maintain formation as they pursued the routing allied vanguard.