Giant Dragon Lord: Starting from Daily Intelligence-Chapter 44: Scattering Like Rats

The first rays of dawn struggled to pierce the thick smoke, illuminating the wreckage of the Blood Wolf Corps’ camp.

The air was thick with the foul stench of burning, the metallic tang of blood, and the chill of death.

The once-bustling camp was now a scene of utter devastation, like a skeleton gnawed clean by some giant beast.

Scorched tents were twisted and deformed, reduced to blackened husks. Piles of supplies had been put to the torch, leaving behind only ash and half-burnt embers.

Carl stood on a patch of scorched earth, his heart burning with rage as he gazed upon the hellish scene before him.

When had his Blood Wolf Corps ever suffered such a devastating loss?

He hadn’t slept all night. As soon as the flames had died down, he had begun the arduous task of gathering his scattered men.

The bandits who had managed to escape the inferno were like startled birds, scattering in every direction with no will left to fight.

He had sent out the few remaining chieftains with decent riding technique to round them up, but with little success.

Many preferred to take their chances and fend for themselves in the wilderness rather than return to this cursed place.

After several hours of effort, Carl finally managed to gather the survivors he could find.

He took a headcount. Of a force of several hundred men, barely more than a hundred remained. Most of them were foot soldiers, utterly terrified by the fire and completely demoralized.

Worse still, the warhorses had been spooked by the fire and most had bolted. Of the nearly one hundred horses they’d had, only twenty-some had been recovered, and many of those had burns or other injuries.

Carl looked at this battered and broken force. Their eyes held only fear and bewilderment. Where was the ferocity of the old Blood Wolf Corps?

He gripped his curved saber tightly. The blade was cold, but it couldn’t cool the flame of rage in his heart.

’Black Stone Territory... Raylo...’

The two names echoed in his mind like a deadly curse.

The main force he had brought with him had been destroyed in a single night, and they hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the enemy.

With just these hundred-odd men, forgetting about attacking Black Stone Territory was one thing; they would be hard-pressed just to survive.

Just as Carl was sinking into despair, an army slowly appeared on the horizon, silhouetted against the light of dawn.

His head snapped up. The column drew closer, the noise of their advance growing louder.

Soon, an orderly formation came into view.

Banners flapped in the wind above a forest of spears and swords, their steps firm and powerful.

On the army’s flanks, several dozen cavalrymen patrolled like hunting dogs.

Even more terrifying, several small black dots were circling high in the sky above—the damn Pegasus Knights!

The Black Stone Army!

They were here!

Carl’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

He knew that Raylo, the Lord of Black Stone Territory, would not let this opportunity pass.

He had thought he would at least have time to catch his breath and regroup, or even just to escape.

But he had never expected Raylo to move so quickly. It was as if he was determined to leave him no chance of survival.

"Assemble! Form ranks!"

Carl shouted himself hoarse, trying to awaken his men’s fighting spirit.

However, the only response he received was even more palpable panic.

Seeing the Black Stone Army bearing down on them, many of the bandits’ legs began to tremble. Some even began to inch backward, preparing to scatter and flee once more.

Carl’s roars sounded feeble and pathetic in the desolate wilderness.

He looked at his men, who were already scared out of their wits, then at the Black Stone Army surging toward them like a torrent, and finally at the grim reapers circling in the sky. The last shred of hope in his heart was extinguished.

He knew this wouldn’t be a battle. It would be a slaughter.

And they were the lambs to be slaughtered.

Carl clenched his jaw, a flicker of grim resolve in his eyes.

’Run? Where could I run?’

’The Pegasus Knights would pursue us like maggots on a corpse.’

’Fight? With what?’

’Am I supposed to throw this battered remnant of an army against that solid formation?’

He stood his ground, his body ramrod straight, as if nailed to the scorched earth.

Behind him, his hundred-odd men looked so small and fragile under the overwhelming presence of the Black Stone Army.

The Black Stone Army advanced slowly, halting several hundred meters from the remnants of the Blood Wolf Corps.

In the sky, Ed rode his Pegasus, hovering at a higher altitude like a hawk surveying its prey.

The two sides faced each other in silence. Ed steered his Pegasus forward and dropped several heads in front of the Blood Wolf Corps’ formation.

They were the heads of the few bandit chieftains who had been left to guard the Blood Wolf Corps’ lair.

"Carl, your lair has been wiped out."

"Take a look at these heads! Recognize any of your old pals?"

"This is what happens when you dare to covet Black Stone Territory."

Ed’s words threw the Blood Wolf bandits, who were barely holding their formation, into turmoil.

The bandits began to whisper amongst themselves in a panic. Many were already looking over their shoulders, searching for an escape route.

On one side was the high-spirited, well-equipped Black Stone Army. On the other, the terrified and broken remnants of the Blood Wolf Corps.

The confrontation was so lopsided that the outcome was already a foregone conclusion.

The standoff didn’t last long. Raylo had no intention of giving these broken soldiers any chance to breathe; in fact, he didn’t even consider them a real threat.

In his eyes, this routed band was nothing more than live target practice to test the results of his new recruits’ training and the power of a Knight’s charge.

The apprentices trained their combat skills on the training grounds day in and day out. They worked hard, but it wasn’t enough to make them true warriors.

Only by drawing blood could they truly grow.

With a command from Raylo, the Black Stone Army moved.

A phalanx composed of nearly two hundred Knight’s Attendants, apprentices, and guards advanced in perfect lockstep, rolling forward like a bulldozer.

The several dozen cavalrymen led by Bolin circled around from the flank, cutting off the Blood Wolf Corps’ line of retreat.

Faced with this overwhelming power, the remnants of the Blood Wolf Corps failed to mount even a semblance of resistance.

When the Black Stone infantry phalanx closed to bow and arrow range, a few scattered arrows flew from the Blood Wolf Corps’ side, landing harmlessly on the Black Stone soldiers’ shields, unable to even penetrate their leather armor.

Meanwhile, the Black Stone archers fired steadily from the rear of their formation. Though few in number, at such close range against a dense pack of enemies, every arrow caused either an injury or panic.

When the cavalry led by Bolin charged, the defensive line of the Blood Wolf remnants instantly collapsed.

The bandits, already terrified, could no longer contain their fear when they saw the fully-armored Knights charging at them like a torrent. They dropped their crude weapons and turned to run.

"Hold your ground! Don’t run!"

Carl swung his curved saber, trying in vain to stop the rout.

But his voice was completely drowned out by terrified screams and the clash of armor.

His men scattered in all directions like a startled flock of birds.

Carl knew the situation was hopeless.

Staying meant certain death.

He glanced at the twenty-some cavalrymen who remained by his side—the part of the Blood Wolf Corps with the best riding technique, and the most loyal.

"Follow me! We’re breaking out!"

Without further hesitation, Carl leaped onto his own frightened warhorse.

He dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and led the remaining cavalry in an attempt to escape into the depths of the wilderness.

Bolin’s cavalry immediately wheeled around to intercept them.

However, though few in number, the Blood Wolf cavalrymen were driven by a desperate will to survive. They were all experienced old riders, and their burst of speed was so great that they actually managed to break through Bolin’s interception in a short time.

A flicker of hope ignited in Carl’s heart.

If they could just escape into the wilderness, their familiarity with the terrain and their riding technique might just give them a slim chance of survival.