Chapter 153: Ambush in Lait Forest

When the orcs appeared before the knights, most of whom were still sitting on the ground, confusion reigned: "What? What's happening?"

The orcs didn't give them a chance to hesitate. With cleavers and axes swinging, many knights were slain before they could react. Those struggling to stand were knocked down by a powerful great horned beast, which then mercilessly chopped them down.

"Splat!" Innards splattered as a knight, painstakingly trained for nine years, was gutted on the spot. The unsatisfied great horned beast viciously struck twice more, scattering blood, flesh, and bone fragments into the air.

"Kill! Kill!" The orc army surged from all directions, slicing the miles-long army into several sections. In the darkness, battles erupted everywhere, filled with the roars of orcs, human cries, and screams.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

"Where's my squire? I need my armor!"

"Soldiers! Form a line... Ah!"

"Protect the count! Protect the count!"

The unprepared human army was thrown into disarray by the orc charge. Without the inspiration of the Knight of the Holy Grail, serf soldiers crumbled at the sight of these terrifying creatures. Dropping their weapons, they screamed and fled in all directions, quickly overwhelmed by the orc onslaught.

Giant minotaurs ripped open fragile tents, biting into humans with relish. The taste of human flesh barely satisfied their hunger before a more intense bloodlust overwhelmed their senses, driving their craving for more.

Blood flowed, heads fell, and human despair was the orcs' best sustenance.

The human armies struggled to organize a defense. When sergeants managed to form a line within the camp, more terrifying creatures appeared.

"Doom bulls! Fall back! Fall back!" Many recognized these fearsome creatures and screamed. Their appearance completely broke the sergeants' lines. They brutally charged into the formations, effortlessly slaying soldiers. Some were even grabbed and smashed to the ground, turned into mush.

"Kill! Let human blood... stain the forest!" Deep in the forest, the Beast King "Bloodhorn" Marlas made his move.

A crudely made orc chariot, pulled by several razor beasts, emerged, carrying a large chaos altar. Filthy red energy devoured all light on the altar, leaving only chaos and void.

Unlike most chaos worshippers, the Beast King "Bloodhorn" Marlas of the Arden Forest worshipped all four Chaos Gods simultaneously.

This was rare, as the Chaos Gods were antagonistic towards each other. Pleasing one god might offend another. While offering blood and skulls to Khorne might infuriate Slaanesh, plotting and treachery to displease Nurgle might please Tzeentch.

Only those confident in their strength and believing they could win the favor of all four gods dared choose this path. These worshippers risked being abandoned by the Chaos Gods and becoming spawn, choosing the most difficult route.

There was also a chaos sect that worshipped Chaos itself, neither serving the individual gods. This sect believed everything was controlled by Chaos, dismissing differences in faith as mere titles, with the world at Chaos's mercy.

Recently, many cultists roamed Britannia's countryside, claiming the Lady of the Lake was an avatar of Slaanesh, one of the Chaos Gods. Knights worked hard to suppress the peasants' confusion, but rumors still spread.

The terrifying chaos chariot, driven by razor beasts and built from crude wood and rusty nails, looked like a cumbersome wagon. But under the protection of chaos energy and led by razor beasts, the heavy chariots smashed through enemy lines like drills.

The chariot's blades whirred madly, bisecting fleeing serf soldiers who screamed as they fell.

"Kill! Let human blood... soak this land!" The Beast King's call echoed through the dark forest.

"Huff! Huff! Ha!" The orcs responded to the Beast King's call.

Lesser horned beasts howled as they devoured human flesh, horned beasts continuously reaped isolated soldiers, and great horned beasts and giant minotaurs rampaged through Britannian lines, destroying any human resistance.

The most terrifying were the doom bulls, their bodies adorned with numerous knightly heads. Many blond-haired, blue-eyed Britannian knights were beheaded in hand-to-hand combat, their heads still bleeding.

At this moment, discipline, strategy, and formations were useless. In the dark forest, knights' heavy armor and shields became burdens. Most couldn't don their armor in time, fighting in the dark relying solely on their innate physical and mental strength against the orcs.

How could frail humans stand against the orcs in such conditions?

Half an hour later.

Battle-hardened kingdom knights fell in droves, young ranger knights were slaughtered en masse, many desperate sergeants charged at the orcs only to die instantly, and serfs fled in all directions, many drowning in the mud.

Count Adelard watched incredulously as his army was segmented and gradually swallowed by the orc tide: "No... it wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Retreat! Retreat!" Cries for retreat echoed within the camp, as the red-and-blue Britannian army was pushed back, with orcs nearing the camp's center.

As professionals, Britannian knights were tenacious. Many finally found their squires amidst the chaos, donning armor amidst a hail of javelins, and fought desperately despite heavy losses.

In the torrential rain, knights continued to direct sergeants to tighten defenses and rebuild positions. Count Adelard, protected by his retinue, fled in disarray, his eyes red with anger and confusion: "Why did it turn out like this? Why?"

His army was disintegrating, and he was powerless to stop it.

"My lord! Quick, this way!" His retinue and loyal knights from his family struggled to protect him as they retreated, stepping through mud and water over the hill they were defending, only to find a large number of orcs, including a doom bull with several giant minotaurs, approaching with a sinister laugh: "Is... human... eat... kill!"

"We can't escape, my lord. Orcs are everywhere!" A squire cried out in despair.

"Hold the line, hold the line!" Count Adelard could only shout: "Everyone, converge here!"

The remaining troops gathered at the count's location on the hill. When they formed a defensive line, what was left of the 15,000-strong Left Army numbered only over 6,000. The rest had perished in the forest.

Sergeants and surviving serf soldiers formed the first line of defense, with the grievously wounded knights making up the second line. In the center were surviving nobles like the count, loudly defending and establishing defensive positions, repelling wave after wave of orc attacks. They watched in agony as orcs executed wounded knights and soldiers, then indulged in a feast of carnage.

"Is it... dawn?" After a night of bitter fighting, Count Adelard looked up to see daylight breaking.

"My lord! What does Marquis Angers say?" A knight asked urgently.

"Marquis Angers says they too were caught in the heavy rain and couldn't come to our aid!" Count Adelard put down the magical communication device. Soaked, sleepless, and with swollen eyes, the

ared fiercely: "He told us to break through, but... how can I possibly do that?"

Count Adelard was filled with regret. He truly hadn't anticipated such a turn of events. His army wasn't overconfident, but how could a sudden heavy rain and an orc ambush synchronize so perfectly?

The rain continued, from midnight to the morning, exhausting and starving the troops. The orcs' attacks came wave after wave, with soldiers falling every moment. Some kingdom knights, armed with only their swords, continued to resist: "For the Lady! For Britannia!"

Deep in the forest, the Beast King "Bloodhorn" Marlas scoffed: "The... lake's... false goddess? Has... abandoned... you."

"Attack... humans... for the last time!"

"They... cannot hold on any longer!"

By noon on September 7th, seeing the situation was hopeless, Count Adelard finally decided to lead a breakout with about a hundred knights and a hundred and fifty knight squires, forcefully breaking through the orc encirclement and disappearing into the heavy rain.

The orcs didn't pursue. The Beast King had already planned the next tactic. Instead, he ordered the remaining orcs to continue their fierce assault on the hill.

Thus, by the night of September 7th, without their commander, the remaining 6,000 human troops were completely annihilated, none escaping.

The orcs celebrated their victory, stripping the knights' corpses and hanging countless heads on their bodies. Hundreds of headless human corpses piled higher than mountains, many vile creatures advanced in rank, lesser horned beasts became horned beasts, horned beast packs evolved into great horned beasts, and great horned beasts began to show the marks of the chaos gods - a sign of their favor.

"Uh! Ahhh! Lady! Save me! Save me!" A young ranger knight crawled desperately in the mud, praying madly to the Lady of the Lake in his despair.

"Despicable... maggots, incompetent... humans!" The Beast King approached from behind, opening his massive jaws.

"Wah! No! No!!!" The ranger knight was dragged by his leg into the dark depths of the forest.

There, a grand chaos ritual was about to commence, with living knights sacrificed to the dark gods in exchange for their blessings.

"Next... the castle."

...

On the morning of September 9th, Count Adelard finally returned to Yl'sen Castle with a handful of men, only to find the castle soon besieged by an orc army numbering over 13,000.

Inside the castle, in the tower hall.

"Damn! Damn! Damn! Why is the weather clearing up now?" Count Adelard slammed his fist against the wooden table. After two sleepless days, his spirit looked utterly defeated: "Damn, there are too many orcs. The garrison cannot hold this."

Yl'sen Castle, situated in the middle of a valley with excellent defensive capabilities and a vast array of siege equipment, couldn't mask the shortage of defenders. With only about a hundred men returning with Count Adelard to the castle, and only a few dozen knights and a thousand garrison troops inside, they stood no chance against the orc onslaught.

A kingdom knight rushed in, urgently reporting: "My lord, there are no reinforcements. We are doomed!"

"What else can we do but defend this castle to the death? The only good news is, Marquis Angers is leading the Central Army back here!" Count Adelard, looking through the tower window, saw countless orcs besieging the castle, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Marquis Angers must rush back to save Yl'sen Castle.

Because it stored a vast amount of military supplies and most of the Left and Central Armies' provisions. Aside from Ryan's Right Army, which could carry all its supplies due to its smaller size, the larger Left and Central Armies relied on Yl'sen Castle for support.

This explains the severe reprimand Count Adelard received from Marquis Angers.

"Adelard, you are a fool, a disgrace, a stain on chivalry, a boon to the orcs! How could you lose more than fifteen thousand troops overnight?" In a magical communication, Marquis Angers berated Count Adelard thoroughly.

"It's not my fault, my lord! Clearly, the Right Army lied about their situation! They claimed to have encountered the main orc force, but they didn't, leading me to advance confidently and fall into an ambush!" Count Adelard immediately defended himself.

"We'll discuss this later. I'm telling you, hold for three days. In three days, you will have reinforcements!" Knowing he must come to their aid, Marquis Angers ordered his army to turn back and head towards Yl'sen Castle.

The chivalric war had failed, and they might never reach Womrock again. Marquis Angers's face turned pale at the thought of this outcome on his first command of the chivalric army. How would he explain this to his Lady and the king?

Wait.

A sudden realization struck Marquis Angers.

Isn't this the decisive battle I've been seeking?

If he could annihilate the orc army outside Yl'sen Castle, then his campaign wouldn't be a total failure.

"Just hold for three days, Adelard. Once my army arrives, we can coordinate an attack from inside and outside the castle. Military strategy dictates that the orcs can't withstand a pincer attack for long."

That's it! The key to turning defeat into victory lies here!

"Updated, so tired, going out to eat."

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