FL - Chapter 59: Ambush Concluded

Battle Aura collided with Battle Aura, and the resulting gale swept dust from the ground.

Lambert and Haskell clashed once more.

With Boiling Blood active, Haskell fought like a wild beast. Blood streamed from his wounds, but he seemed incapable of feeling pain.

He roared and brought his axe down, driving Lambert back several steps. The blade cracked Lambert's breastplate, and blood seeped through the split in the steel.

Lambert refused to trade blows. He used nimble footwork to stall, denying Haskell another chance to close the distance.

"GRAAAH!"

Inspired by their captain's strike, the remaining Snowsworn activated Boiling Blood Frenzy and threw themselves at the Crimson Tide Knights.

The knights responded at once, drawing their formation tight amid the chaos.

But despite Louis's warning and their preparations, one young knight made a careless mistake.

An axe struck him squarely in the chest and hurled him into the canyon wall. His spine shattered, killing him on impact.

Lambert's expression darkened.

Victory was already certain, but a direct fight would allow the enemy to drag several more knights down with them.

The Boiling Blood state couldn't last long. There was no reason to meet them head-on.

"Change formation! Disperse!"

The Crimson Tide Knights shifted tactics at his command.

They opened the distance and refused close combat, using their mounts and ranged weapons to harass the enemy instead.

The Snowsworn couldn't maintain Boiling Blood for long. One after another, their movements began to slow.

The backlash tore through their bodies. Skin split, blood poured from their mouths, and battle cries became screams of agony.

"Gaaah!"

Some collapsed and convulsed on the ground.

Others fought through the pain, but their Battle Aura had become unstable, hastening their deaths.

Lambert kept his troops at a distance and continued wearing the enemy down.

If they prolonged the battle, victory would inevitably belong to them.

Haskell still refused to fall. He staggered upright as his muscles split apart, blood running down the axe haft and dripping from his fingers.

His eyes had lost focus, yet he continued forward.

"Follow me!"

With a final roar, he gathered the last of his Battle Aura and charged Lambert.

This time, Lambert didn't retreat. He steadied his horse, raised his lance, and faced Haskell's attack.

"Come."

Axe and lance collided. Haskell's battered axe head finally shattered, scattering iron fragments through the air.

Lambert's lance drove through his chest, and blood burst from the wound.

Haskell didn't fall.

"I'll drag you to hell with me!"

He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Lambert with the grip of a dying beast.

His Battle Aura spiraled out of control, filling the air with scorching heat. He meant to detonate it and take Lambert with him.

A Crimson Tide Knight charged in at the last moment. His longsword swept sideways, severing Haskell's right arm and knocking him away.

Haskell crashed to the ground. His Battle Aura dispersed as he lay on his side and stared at the sky.

The setting sun was as red as blood.

"Father... In the end, I still couldn't..."

His words faded unfinished. He closed his eyes, unwilling even in death.

Silence returned to the battlefield.

...

The dust had yet to settle. Jon lay at the cliff edge, his mouth hanging open.

He had lost count of how many times the battle had left him stunned.

It had begun with the ambush: rockslides, a rain of arrows, and then the knights' three-stage encirclement.

The entire sequence had unfolded with the precision of a stage play.

Every step was calculated. Every soldier moved in perfect coordination.

And their enemy had been the Snowsworn, warriors capable of using the terrifying Boiling Blood Frenzy.

Jon had expected the Crimson Tide Knights to pay a terrible price. Instead, the battle had been decided in less than half an hour.

"I've lost count of how many times you've shocked me," Jon muttered.

He turned to Louis, his mouth twitching. "Boss, how do you do it? Can you predict the future, or do you have someone inside the Snowsworn—"

Louis gave him a flat look. "Quiet."

He watched the knights clearing the battlefield below. "We lost one knight. That means the ambush wasn't a success."

Jon stared at him.

"You're serious?"

His first thought was that Louis was putting on an act, but he didn't dare say so.

Jon replayed the engagement in his mind—the preparation of the ambush, the control of the battle's rhythm, and the counter to Boiling Blood Frenzy.

If Jon or that arrogant and impulsive Zachary had encountered these madmen with their own knights...

The Snowsworn might have torn them apart before they could react.

*Total annihilation.*

The words circled through his mind.

*These are the enemies we'll face from now on?*

*Duke Edmund is sending the southern colonization lords straight into a mass grave!*

Jon swallowed.

He had once thought Louis was merely a little stronger than the others—that he had some intelligence, knew how to command men, and could arrange a formation.

Now Jon understood that the difference wasn't small. It was the distance between heaven and earth.

Louis had dominated the enemy, preparing their grave three days before the battle and waiting for them to step into it.

They weren't even on the same level.

One conviction took root in Jon's mind.

*I need to hold on to this man and never let go.*

He sprang to his feet, brushed off the dust, straightened his back, and stood beside Louis with a solemn expression. "Boss, do you need money?"

"Quiet."

"Understood!"

Jon fell silent at once. He stood beside Louis with a smile, chest out and head high.

His posture declared that he was Louis's most loyal follower.

Louis remained at the cliff edge, gazing down at the blood-soaked battlefield.

Despite the victory, lingering fear chilled his heart.

Without the Daily Intelligence System's warning, the traps prepared in advance, the battle lines laid across the canyon, and the element of surprise, Crimson Tide Territory could never have won.

"The Snowsworn's Boiling Blood Frenzy is too dangerous," he murmured. "If every battle means facing madmen like these, we'll be in serious trouble.

"I need to find a way to counter such warriors, and soon."

Footsteps sounded from below.

Lambert approached, streaked with blood. One corner of his armor had shattered, and a diagonal wound crossed his shoulder, but his expression remained steady.

He dropped to one knee before Louis. "My lord, the battle is over. The enemy has been annihilated."

Louis nodded in approval. "Well done, Lambert."

Lambert looked up. "It was my duty."

After a moment, he asked, "What should we do with the bodies?"

Louis looked over the blood-soaked canyon floor. His voice was low and cold.

"Take every head. Wash them and pack them in burlap sacks.

"I'll present them to Count Firth as a gift."