What’s the point in launching another charge?

Of course there was a point.

If they launched another charge, First Legion and Marquis Wade would have an opportunity to retreat, avoiding the complete annihilation of their forces.

As long as Veru led his cavalry to charge, the orcs wouldn’t dare chase down the First Legion with their disordered ranks. Although they lacked military knowledge, they understood the power of cavalry and would have to form up their troops to treat them seriously.

Only if Veru led his cavalry in another charge would Marquis Wade have a chance to retreat with his remaining troops in order, minimizing their losses from this disastrous battle.

“Ray, are you afraid?”

Ray was Veru’s second-in-command, a seasoned knight. Though slightly weaker than Veru, he was still one of the top rankers in his class, and he had managed to return unscathed from the first round of charges.

Upon hearing Veru’s question, Ray’s expression remained unchanged, and he responded leisurely, “For Lancelot.”

Ray said no more; one sentence was enough to express his resolve.

Veru nodded. Perhaps his question wasn’t only for Ray, but for himself as well.

To charge again would likely be a death sentence, though perhaps “certain death” was an exaggeration, “nearly certain” was not.

Did he fear death? Of course; what normal person would not want to live? Could he retreat? Absolutely not. The glory of the Northern Expeditionary Army’s cavalry and the Lancelot family’s honor both prohibited Veru from fleeing in the face of danger. A Lancelot could die in battle, but a Lancelot would never flee.

“Clang!”

Veru raised his sword high above his head.

“Clang, clang, clang…”

The sound of unsheathing weapons echoed all around him.

The cavalrymen, who had just caught their breath, once again raised their weapons at their leader’s command.

“Charge!”

Veru led the charge, positioning himself as the tip of the spear. Behind him, Lei Ya and the others followed closely, their formation a conical shape with Veru as its point, once again launching a pincer movement on the cannibal demons’ flank.

The thunder of hoofbeats filled the battlefield once more. The first charge had resulted in significant losses, but it did little to dampen the spirits of the Northern Expeditionary Army’s cavalry. These soldiers enjoyed the best treatment normally afforded to them; they were already well-fed and spoiled generals and soldiers.

The lower-ranking officers were largely Lancelot clan members, and this group formed one of the Northern Expeditionary Army’s most reliable units. The soldiers’ morale was not significantly affected by the casualty losses, for they were all veterans of many battles, well aware of the stakes riding on this charge. Their grim faces bore those of a mournful army fighting to the death, launching an attack with no hope of retreat.

The thunder of hooves spurred on the Northern Expeditionary Army’s infantrymen engaged in close combat, as well as those who had already begun to retreat. Some officers of the second and third legions took the opportunity to rally fleeing soldiers and reorganize them into a defensive formation.

The cavalry’s charge gave them a brief respite, but the soldiers dared not dream of counterattacking. Their sole objective was to maintain some semblance of order as they withdrew, to avoid being slaughtered like sheep by their enemies.

Marquis Wade also took advantage of this moment to organize a small counterattack, shoring up a section of the battle line that had begun to waver.

The charging cavalrymen were impossible for the demons to ignore. In truth, the Northern Expeditionary Army’s cavalry had always posed the greatest threat to their ranks. After all, ordinary foot soldiers of the Northern Expeditionary Army required at least ten men working together to hold off a single demon warrior, and even then, they would be at a disadvantage.

A high-speed cavalry charge had the chance to deal a critical blow to the demon soldier.

The demons on the periphery began to form a simple defensive formation, their ranks loose, but their immense natural advantages more than made up for this flaw.

Faced with the onslaught of the Northern Expeditionary Army’s cavalry, the demons had no choice but to temporarily abandon their pursuit of the second and third legions.

If they continued their pursuit without making any defensive preparations, surely Veru would have laughed himself to sleep dreaming about it. Leaving their backs exposed to charging cavalry would have left the demons vulnerable no matter how strong they were.

Unfortunately, demons were not stupid; the pursuit quickly stopped, and they began to brace for the impact of the cavalry charge.

These soldiers had finally managed to buy themselves some time, and some officers had already gathered many of the scattered soldiers and slowly began to withdraw from the battlefield in organized units.

Seeing that the demon offensive had slowed, Marquis Wade, who had just led a successful counterattack, took the opportunity to order a retreat. “Pass my orders: all units, begin withdrawing to Fort Herring under overlapping fire cover! Reorganize there!”

“Marquis, what about young Master Veru?”

The one who asked was Angus, the commander of the First Legion. After receiving assistance from Marquis Wade, the two fought together against a giant cannibal chief. Although they had the upper hand, taking down the enemy’s leader proved to be quite difficult, and they could only manage to drive him back.

As a senior officer, Angus understood the implications of their retreat on Veru and his cavalrymen. He couldn’t help but question Marquis Wade’s decision.

“Angus! Veru is my son, but he is also a member of Lancelot and a soldier of the Northern Expeditionary Army.” Marquis Wade paused slightly before continuing, “If others can die, then my son can as well.”

His face still grim, Marquis Wade repeated, “Carry out your orders and retreat!”

“Yes, sir!”

Upon sensing the resolve in Marquis Wade’s tone, Angus dared not question him further.

He only lifted his head to see a trickle of blood forming at the corner of Marquis Wade’s mouth.

“Bang!”

The Northern Expeditionary Army’s cavalry once again rammed into the cannibal horde’s front lines. Although the number of Northern Expeditionary soldiers had decreased, their determination and fierceness remained, and they drove their horses straight into the fray without the slightest intention of evading, as if they were determined to die by a different name.

Veru led the charge, and a cannibal demon soldier raised a log paling, intending to knock him off his horse. Veru ignited his energy, swiftly slicing the attacking log in two, then used the momentum of his horse to decapitate the cannibal warrior with a single strike, driving onward without the slightest hesitation.

One after another, the subsequent cavalrymen charged into the cannibal ranks. Some lances pierced the cannibals through, while others were caught by the cannibals, sending the Northern Expeditionary soldiers tumbling from their horses. The battlefield echoed with screams and cries, and crimson blood splattered across the ground.

“Charge! Forward! Break through the lines, don’t stop!”

Veru understood the task set before him and his men.

The pressure on the First Legion eased as Veru led his troops to charge into the enemy, buying time for the Northern Expeditionary Army to retreat. Though these soldiers had steeled themselves for death, if they could directly pierce through the enemy’s lines, the riders still had a chance to make it out alive.

As Veru’s forces engaged the enemy, the First Legion, now significantly weakened, and Marquis Wade’s reserve troops began a gradual and orderly retreat under their command, pulling away from the fighting and distancing themselves from the enemy.

“What a pity…”

The Two-headed Ogre priest, still standing but weakened, observed the battlefield with a heavy heart. He was clearly reluctant to allow Marquis Wade’s troops to retreat, but there was little more he could do.

The Two-headed Ogre priest then muttered something to a nearby Ogre, who howled loudly in response. Several Ogres turned away from the retreating cavalry and charged toward the riders.