Mage Legend
Chapter 213: Episode 78 Main Course

Chapter 213: Episode 78 Main Course

The surprise attack orchestrated by Batana completely took the opponent off guard, and the Second House wasn’t able to organize an effective defense in time. Although the Dark Elf themselves uphold the "always ready for battle" style, they swiftly appeared on the open field in front of the station. However, the family slave warriors who should have been the first layer of defense couldn’t be as well-trained as the Dark Elf and failed to quickly come to assist. The current situation was that the Beastman and goblin troops, driven by soul-bound corpses, were confronting the Dark Elves of the Second House.

The Drow are natural born warriors, and with relentless training and various brutal trials, war has become their instinct. Even if the family’s high priest didn’t come out to command the battle, the Drow guards still formed orderly into combat squads, taking out their Spider Crossbows and began shooting at the Beastmen.

However, in their hearts, they all felt regret for wasting such precious crossbow arrows. In their haste, they didn’t have the opportunity to fetch ordinary crossbow arrows, so they directly used the Poisoned Arrows they carried. These arrows, refined and specially processed, had a lethal effect upon drawing blood, and the Dark Elves always kept these precious crossbow arrows at their side. In critical moments, they relied on these arrows to kill the enemy and save their own lives. Now, all were shot towards the most ordinary low-level warriors—the Beastman slaves.

The Drow’s arrow skills were extraordinary, with nearly every shot striking the enemy’s vital points: the forehead, throat, and the femoral artery unprotected by armor. There was no need to wait for the poison to take effect; the sheer lethality of the arrows was enough to wipe out the cannon fodder in front of them. Yet, these arrows were originally intended to threaten the same Dark Elves. Unlike those slaves clad only in cloth armor, the Drow wore finely crafted Magic Armor, immune to ordinary damage. However, these lethal poisoned arrows, which could cause death with just a scratch, were the most suitable weapons.

The Beastmen corpses littered the ground, and the goblins were not spared. Without their cries, the battlefield became eerily quiet, with the heated battle spirit turning into a somber and murderous atmosphere. The soul-bound corpses advanced slowly, uniformly drawing the machetes from their backs. They tread on the chunks of flesh that covered the ground, over the incomplete bodies, waded through the river of deep purple blood, and moved forward through the stinking black smoke emitted by burning corpses, heading for the Dark Elves’ defensive line.

They had no emotions, felt no fear toward the enemy, nor did they feel excitement from the battle. Killing was merely an action, merely a command, as natural and easy as breathing was when they were alive. What they needed to do was to embed their machetes into the enemy’s body.

The sound of the Dark Elves’ crossbow arrows firing was incessant, yet the soul-bound corpses made no attempt to evade, allowing the arrows to hit them freely. Now undead, they felt no pain, and the small arrows couldn’t harm their long-nonfunctional organs. Even the blood grooves on the arrows were incapable of extracting a single drop of liquid from their withered bodies, and the poison lost its effect altogether.

Helplessly, the Dark Elves drew their swords and charged at the soul-bound corpses. The first line of defense proved ineffective, and the powerful Lightning Trap was completely nullified; the traps intended to slow the enemy were trampled flat prematurely by the Beastmen and goblins, failing to provide the necessary time to prepare a counterattack; and now, the arrows meant for elite invaders were exhausted.

So far, Batana held the initiative, while the Second House continually lost advantageous opportunities.

As the soul-bound corpses approached the Dark Elf guard unit, they suddenly quickened their pace, lunging with incredible speed. After all, these soul-bound corpses were not like zombies; they retained some of the martial skill capabilities from their warrior days. Though their movements were much slower than before and their reflexes not as sharp as before, they no longer feared death, and defense became meaningless. Their mode of operation was attack, relentless attack. Even if they lost an arm or a leg, even if they were cleaved in half, they would not cease their actions. They would continue to hinder their opponents with their incomplete bodies, using teeth and claws to tear into the living flesh of the Dark Elves. If there was anything left in the world that could bring them even a slight thrill, it was witnessing the vibrant blood of the living spurt in all directions, seeing the enemy’s body warmth fade along with their soul, becoming a corpse in that instant.