Chapter 68 - One Eighth

“Roar!” With a unified shout, numerous cavalrymen began to maneuver their horses, starting, accelerating, charging.“Da da da! Da da da!”

In an instant, the sound of hooves thundered like a storm, as a multitude of cavalry, like black arrows, charged into the camp with an unstoppable force and thunderous momentum.

The wide road in front of the camp provided the enemy with perfect conditions for charging, plunging the people inside the camp into despair.

The anticipated scenario had materialized, so what was the solution? What should they do?

Many nobles looked towards Gro, Gro looked towards Richard, Richard shook his head.

The enemy was 80 meters away.

“Da da da!”

Nobles again looked towards Gro, Gro looked towards Richard, Richard shook his head once more.

The enemy was 70 meters away.

“Da da da da!”

Nobles again turned towards Gro, Gro looked towards Richard, Richard still shook his head.

The enemy was 60 meters away.

“Da da da da da!”

The dense sound of hooves filled the entire universe, with the distance shrinking rapidly under the sprinting horses, only 50 meters remained.

50 meters!

This time, the nobles did not look towards Gro, nor did Gro look towards Richard, realizing that whatever measures Richard had, they were likely insufficient to stop the charge.

It was time to think of a way to save themselves.

The first to react was Viscount Lansite, who, with a roar, drew his sword, exclaiming, “Let’s fight it out!”

The other nobles also drew their swords, shouting, perhaps out of fear, but at this moment they could only fight, only a desperate battle befitting their noble status.

Finally, even Prince Gro drew an ordinary longsword, gripping it tightly in his hand.

Lansite glared at the charging cavalry troops, his muscles tense and bones slowly trembling with the build-up of strength, preparing to deliver a fierce slash. He was confident he could kill the first cavalryman to clash with him, but what followed would depend on luck since the charging cavalry’s killing power was too great for any individual to withstand.

At this moment, everyone on the scene had forgotten Richard’s existence since in their view, wizards were ultimately unreliable, and one had to fend for one’s own life.

Richard, on the other hand, looked somewhat relaxed as he slightly tilted his head to glance at Pandora. At that moment, Pandora was gnawing on a new silver fork, making a “ka ka” sound. Seeing Richard look her way, she quickly hid the silver fork behind her back, declaring righteously, “Shh!”

This meant: Don’t think about taking my fork again!

Richard couldn’t help shaking his head, then turned his gaze back towards the charging cavalry approaching the camp. His eyes narrowed slightly, and he reached into his chest.

Mana began to surge.

50 meters, 45 meters, 40 meters!

Some inconspicuous setups began to work, the road became somewhat rugged and narrow; the charging troops became slower, denser, and converged towards the center.

Hmm, just about right.

At the next moment, Richard’s eyes sharpened, he reached into his bosom, and then threw out one, two, three… numerous black shadows.

Visible to the naked eye, these were objects that had undergone hardening and preservative treatment, engraved with strange patterns—like specimens of animal viscera—made from nine Magic Tools of the Demonized Silver Rabbit: 5 lung lobes, 2 kidneys, 1 liver, and 1 heart.

5 lung lobes, Power Index 200, 2 kidneys, Power Index 350, 1 liver, Power Index 500, 1 heart, Power Index 3K. Total Power Index 5.2K.

5.2K! The equivalent of 5200 grams of TNT, 52 hand grenades, 1 enhanced main battle tank shell.

Mana was stimulated, Magic Tools fell.

Time seemed to momentarily freeze.

Inside the camp, nobles drew their swords, their facial muscles tensed, foul air exhaled from their nostrils merged with the cold night air outside, rapidly condensing into large wisps of white fog. Hands gripping the longswords tensed, veins under the skin bulged, visibly expanding, a sign of the heart pumping blood throughout their bodies.

Outside the camp, numerous cavalry members appeared expressionless, faces cold as they fiercely charged forward. Many horses, being too close, adjusted their stances on their own. Some horses seemed to detect something, slightly tilting their heads towards the small black shadows falling from the sky.

Falling, falling…

Time resumed to normal.

The falling Magic Tools exploded among the cavalry, a sudden intense burst of light flashed, stabbing everyone’s eyes in attendance. Even tightly closed eyes couldn’t block the light, which penetrated through the lids like needles, boring into the eyes. Liquid flowed out, whether tears or blood, it was unclear.

Then came the extreme spread of heat, the cavalry’s iron armor and helmets softened and stuck to their bodies like butter near a furnace, seeping through their eyes, noses, and ears into their bodies. Before they could even scream, the high-temperature flames licked upon their skin, charring it completely, then surged into their open mouths and wreaked havoc inside their bodies.

Following that was the fierce rush of air; for a moment, it was like the strongest gale born from the center of the explosion sweeping outward in all directions. This wind was solid; though invisible, it struck everyone like stone, knocking people back, flattening the iron armor, breaking bones, and shattering internal organs.

Explosions, roaring, screams.

Suddenly, the whole world became noisy; suddenly, the air was filled with cries; suddenly, the path of the charge became a slaughterhouse.

Inside the camp, many nobles and Gro felt a gust of wind sweep past them, then saw the charging cavalry outside suddenly drop down, fly up; within the flames and the roar, in just the blink of an eye, the ground before the camp was cleared, the charging cavalry all turned into charred corpses.

Subsequent cavalry, unaware of what had happened, clashed into the corpses ahead of them, tripping over, flinging out, followed by more cavalry rushing forward, continuing to trip, fly out.

A trampling was occurring, death was spreading, an unknown fear was being transmitted, an unspeakable emotion naturally emerged.

Inside the camp, nobles and Gro stared dazedly towards Richard, who remained calm as if nothing had happened.

After a while.

The enemy, having suffered the ambush, struggled to recover from the chaos and began to regroup.

Richard silently watched from within the camp.

In the sudden explosion just now, about twenty people from the enemy who were directly in the blast’s core area died instantly, and another dozen who were on the periphery sustained severe injuries. In addition, the subsequent trampling also resulted in more than twenty casualties before it barely stopped.

Overall, the explosion just now had caused the enemy, numbering over four hundred, to lose about an eighth of their combat strength.

An eighth.