Work Prophet

The appearance of the Storm Monarch greatly boosted the morale of the Alliance Army, and besides the Storm Monarch, they also had three hundred Wing Clan Warriors.

In Tristan's opinion, even if they couldn't kill the White Dragon, they could definitely distract its attention.

And all they needed was a little time to crush the enemy force that was desperately resisting, hoping to struggle against their doomed fate.

That being said, Tristan still maintained caution and planned to observe the enemy formation a bit longer.

However, before he could send out his scouts, Balin had already raised his warhammer and bellowed out a command.

"Kill those sons of bitches from the Empire! Take the heads of Ireya and Merlin, and divide up the wealth of family Arias and the Double Rest Sect!!!"

After a pause, he added another phrase, "Liberate our kinsfolk! Everyone, follow me and charge!!!!"

Upon finishing, he rode out on his small Dwarf mount, taking the lead in the charge.

Seeing that their commander had already led the way, the Dwarves naturally followed suit, shouting and waving their weapons as they charged at the enemy with overwhelming momentum.

Tristan's face turned sour, knowing all too well what Balin was up to; the cunning Dwarf still had his mind set on that extra twenty percent of the spoils.

Seeing that the enemy was few in number and demoralized, Balin wanted to rush in and snatch their heads.

The direction of his charge made it obvious that he was heading straight for the Lady, and his brazen act of cherry-picking caused dissatisfaction among the imperial nobility.

Those desirous gazes all turned towards Tristan, almost ready to shout out the order for a full assault for him.

Although Tristan himself did not care much for the wealth of the Arias family, he did not want to delay others' chance to enrich themselves, and moreover, the eagerness for battle among the troops was quite high, which wasn't a bad thing.

So he drew his treasured sword from his waist and said with a deep voice, "Gentlemen, go and crush the enemy before us, let Lord Solomon see our valor."

Before his words had even finished, the army had already swarmed forward eagerly, like sharks scenting blood.

And their target was surprisingly unanimous, all charging toward the flag adorned with a rabbit.

Because Merlin was not spotted for the moment, earning extra spoils of war left them with only one option.

The Lady put down her telescope, a cold smile spreading across her face.

Miss Rabbit had been worried these guys would spread too thin in their attack, preventing her from hitting many with a single cannon shot.

Now everything was perfect, as almost all the enemies bunched together, a mass so dense that due to overcrowding, some were even squeezed and fell, never to stand up again.

Consequently, the Lady had the twenty-seven Italian Cannons brought before her, lined up in a row with the dark muzzles pointed forward.

This was the first time artillery had seen action in an official war on Bratis Continent, and the opposing forces knew almost nothing about it, unaware of the terror of this weapon, still rushing forward to compete for the forefront.

Their actions were akin to elders waiting to pick up discounted vegetables before the supermarket closed.

The Lady deliberately waited a bit longer, until the front line of the enemy was less than three hundred steps away, then she gave the order to fire the cannons.

The first round of firing used solid bullets, which flew out of the cannon muzzles with a thunderous roar and directly into the dense crowd.

Even the quality steel armor the Dwarves took pride in could not withstand the fierce impact, and a mere graze was enough to break bones outright.

If one was hit head-on, they would be sent flying, coughing up blood and dying on the spot.

The representative figure among them was Balin, the Dwarf General who, eager to claim kills, charged to the forefront, accompanied by the most elite warriors of the army, which naturally made him conspicuous, and it was no surprise that he drew the focus of the cannons.

Even so, with the shooting accuracy of those rudimentary cannons, for him to be hit by a strike was a miracle, neither big nor small.

One could only say his luck was exceptionally poor that day. Balin hadn't even had the chance to realize what was happening when he heard a series of earth-shaking booms, as if even the ground itself was trembling.

Then, the Dwarf General and his small dwarf horse were smashed into a pulp, and it was only when the Dwarfs came to their senses that they realized their commander, who had been boldly charging forward a moment ago, was gone.

The solid cannonballs almost destroyed everything in their flight path, and their killing spree did not stop upon hitting the ground.

The battleground chosen by the Lady was on very firm ground, and the cannonballs bounced like stones skimming on water, continuing to hop and skip forward.

Not until their kinetic energy was completely spent did the cannonballs stop, by which time they had nearly pierced through the Alliance Army, leaving chaos in their wake with men and horses overturned and wails everywhere.

Tristan, who was behind, was left stunned by the sight.

What kind of Divine Arts were these that a mere iron ball could be so devastating, and travel such a long distance?

Tristan was not the only one bewildered by the cannonade; there had always been significant casualties during their charges, mainly due to the enemy archers.

But with proper armor and timely shielding, most arrows could be withstood, which was why the nobles often led the charge at the front lines.

However, their prideful armor was like paper mache before those iron bullets, shattering upon impact.

The Lady currently only had twenty-seven Italian cannons at her disposal; even with combined firing, the casualties they could inflict were limited.

It was the Alliance Army's focus on claiming heads that allowed her to wipe out hundreds in a single breath, plowing dozens of bloody swathes through the battlefield. But for an Alliance Army that numbered over seventy thousand, these losses were bearable.

The key was that the scene was too bloodcurdling, causing even the bravest warriors to experience an involuntary fear, slowing their advance.

This bought the other side's gunners time to reload their gunpowder and cannonballs.

After the second round of firing, the Alliance Army quickly lost another two hundred men, and there was even a faint sign of collapse among the troops in front.

They had rushed in en masse because they had heard the Resistance Army had low morale and was unstable, thinking to take easy advantage.

But the enemy didn't look the least bit desperate, firing those cannons so ferociously with both rounds.

Now those in front no longer thought about making a killing, only about preserving their own lives, uncertain who would be the unlucky target when the long barrels smoked again.

Seeing this, Tristan grew anxious. With his rich military experience, he knew how dangerous it was for the vanguard to lose their fighting spirit and start fleeing, which could even lead to a rout of the main army.

Though he himself was somewhat daunted by the massive iron bullets, he still brandished his sword high and urged everyone to push forward and continue the charge.