Katushir's four-colored city walls had, at this moment, become four boiling blood furnaces.
The roars of the beastmen simultaneously echoed from the four gates—East, South, West, and North. Dense masses of bestial claws scrabbled at the cracks between the bricks and stones, climbing upward. Iron axes of the Ungor, arrows of the Gor beast, and long spears of the Angor beast rained down upon the city top like a storm, staining even the moonlight a dark crimson.
The North Gate wall was the most horrific.
Three Bull Warriors leaped down, stepping on the corpses piled at the top of the scaling ladders. The iron hooves made the blue-gray stone bricks crackle.
These minotaur soldiers were over ten feet wide at the shoulder, their gray-brown fur covered in dried blood scabs. Their curved horns were as thick as iron pillars, and they swung their massive axes in wide, sweeping arcs—The leftmost Bull Warriors cleaved into the city militia's spear formation, instantly snapping five long spears. The sharp axe blade brought up three arcs of blood in its wake; three soldiers were cut in half at the waist before they could even scream, their internal organs mixing with fresh blood and splattering onto the city wall, splashing the face of a nearby swordsman.
"Form ranks! Surround and kill it!"
A furious roar erupted from the crowd.
Five Katushir swordsmen, clad in griffin armor, quickly encircled the foe. The silver-white griffin emblem on their armor shimmered coldly in the firelight.
The leading swordsman charged forward, stepping over a fallen comrade's body, and thrust his longsword diagonally, accurately aiming for the Bull Warriors' armpit—the area where its hide was thinnest.
The Bull Warriors roared in pain and swung its massive axe back in a horizontal sweep, but it was firmly parried by the scabbards of the other four swordsmen.
The leading swordsman seized the chance to withdraw his sword, twisting his wrist, and plunging the longsword into the Bull Warriors' neck. Dark green blood sprayed out. The minotaur's massive body swayed, then crashed heavily onto the city wall, crushing two Ungor who were climbing below.
But before the swordsmen could catch their breath, two more Bull Warriors climbed onto the city top.
They no longer fought alone, but stood back-to-back, swinging their massive axes. The fierce winds generated by the axe blades forced the swordsmen to retreat repeatedly.
A young swordsman was too slow to dodge and was grazed on the shoulder by an axe blade. His armor instantly split open, and blood flowed down his arm. Just as he tried to retreat, the Bull Warriors kicked him in the chest, sending the man tumbling from the city wall into the horde of beasts below, where he was instantly torn apart.
The battle at the East Gate was equally fierce.
The beastmen here were the craftiest; the Gor beast provided covering fire from afar, while the Angor beast, using the cover of night, darted between the battlements like monkeys, occasionally leaping out to ambush soldiers.
Katushir's knights rode their warhorses, struggling to charge along the narrow city wall. Their hooves slipped occasionally on the blood-soaked bricks and stones.
A knight had just pierced an Angor beast's throat with his lance when an orc arrow shot from the shadows penetrated his armor. He slumped onto his horse, which bolted in panic, crashing into a nearby soldier. Both men fell from the city wall.
"Use the muskets! Aim at the battlements!"
The city militia captain roared.
Ten Musketeer immediately lined up, aiming their guns at the city battlements.
Just as the Angor beast tried to peer out to ambush, it was struck by a volley of lead shot and fell from the battlement.
But before the Musketeer could reload, a strange black mist suddenly drifted up from below the city—it was the beastmen's Chaos magic!
The black mist enveloped the city wall, carrying a sour, putrid smell.
soldiers touched by the black mist instantly developed red, swollen skin, quickly sprouting dense, clustered pustules. When the pustules burst, yellow-green pus flowed out. The soldiers let out mournful screams, some even frantically scratching their own skin until the bone was exposed.
Even more terrifyingly, several soldiers deeply corrupted by the magic suddenly had their eyes turn blood red and began swinging their weapons at their comrades—A Musketeer was stabbed through the chest by his own companion, staring at the attacker in disbelief even as he died.
"Cut down the mad ones! Don't let them get close!" the captain roared, his longsword slashing at a maddened soldier.
But the Chaos magic spread too quickly. The soldiers on the wall had to resist the beastmen's attack while simultaneously guarding against comrades who suddenly went insane, causing their formation to quickly fall into disarray.
Fortunately, Katushir's artillery came into play.
In the arrow towers of the West and South Gates, twelve bronze cannons were pushed onto the city top, their muzzles aimed at the beast horde below.
"Fire! Shoot!" Following the artillery captain's command, the cannons let out a deafening roar. Iron shot screamed through the air and slammed into the beast horde, instantly flattening a swath of beastmen.
One cannon at the South Gate even scored a direct hit on a battering ram; the log body instantly shattered, and the beastmen riding it were smashed into bloody pieces, scattered across the ground.
The roar of the cannons acted like a powerful stimulant, stabilizing the city militia's position.
The Musketeer seized the opportunity to reload and fired again at the horde of beasts below. Lead shot pierced the beastmen's hides, drawing streaks of blood.
But the number of beastmen was simply too great. As one wave fell, another rushed up, climbing the walls relentlessly like an endless plague of locusts.
In the central arrow tower of Katushir, the firelight blazed brightly.
Escoville, the City Lord, stood before the window, wearing heavy black armor. The rubies on his armor shone with an eerie light in the firelight.
He watched the blazing firelight rising from the four gates outside the window and listened to the faint sounds of battle, gripping his sword hilt tightly until his knuckles turned white.
"When will the reinforcements you spoke of arrive?" Escoville's voice was hoarse, carrying a slight, almost imperceptible tremble.
Antonio, wearing a dark blue brocade robe, stood behind him, holding a cup of cold ale. He appeared calm, but his fingers unconsciously rubbed the rim of the cup—He had already sent three groups of messengers to contact Kurzadh, but there had been no reply yet.
"My Lord, rest assured, the reinforcements are already on their way," Antonio said, setting down the mug, trying to keep his tone calm. "Their journey is quite long, and they must avoid the beastmen's scouts, so they will be a little slow."
Escoville turned around, looking at Antonio with a complicated expression.
He knew Antonio had powerful backing, but he never expected him to "Drop the ball" at such a critical moment.
Katushir's five hundred knights had already suffered over fifty percent casualties. Fewer than three hundred veterans remained in the city militia, and even the Militiamen had suffered thousands of deaths.
If reinforcements didn't arrive soon, let alone holding the city walls, even the castle might not be saved.
"It had better be," Escoville said grimly. "Otherwise, Katushir truly cannot hold out." He walked over to the sandbox in the center of the arrow tower, looking at the small red flags planted there—representing Katushir's defenses, which were now being forced back piece by piece by the black flags of the beastmen, leaving only the city wall as the final barrier.
Antonio did not speak. He simply walked to the window and looked toward the Forest of Gloom.
He was more anxious than Escoville—What exactly was Kurzadh waiting for? Did he want to watch Katushir fall and then reap the spoils? But he forgot that once Katushir was breached, the Blackrock Clan's trade route would also be cut off. Kurzadh wouldn't be that foolish.
Just as the atmosphere in the arrow tower grew heavy, outside the city, in front of the beastmen's central camp tent, U stood beneath the Raven Feather banner, his scarlet compound eyes fixed on the firelight atop the city wall.
He had already deployed the three hundred Great Horned beast, eighty Bull Warriors, four hundred Ungor, all the Gors from the central army, and half of the beastmen Centaurs from the flank army to the front line—The beastmen in the vanguard camp were now fewer than five hundred, the central army was left with less than two hundred old and weak, and the flank army only had just over a hundred beastmen Centaurs and Angor beast guarding the empty camp.
"The city must fall before dawn!" U roared at the messenger beside him, his hoarse voice filled with Chaos fervor. "Tell the front line that whoever climbs the wall first will be the first to be sacrificed to the Master!"
The messenger departed after receiving the order, and the urgent sound of the war horn rang out once more.
The beastmen on the front line seemed to have been given a powerful stimulant, roaring as they launched their final charge toward the city wall.
The Bull Warriors carried their massive axes and slammed their bodies directly into the battlements. Some even used their horns to pry against the battlements, forcibly smashing the bricks and stones; the Ungor climbed over the bodies of their kin, surging onto the city top like a tide, determined to take a human soldier down with them, even if their own bodies were pierced by swords.
The slaughter on the city wall reached its peak.
Katushir's swordsmen and knights were fighting with bloodshot eyes, their armor stained with dark green beast blood. Some of their sword blades were already chipped, yet they continued to swing them. The Militiamen threw knives, swords, and stones at the beastmen, refusing to retreat even when scratched by bestial claws.
Caelesal rode her white griffin warhorse, charging back and forth along the North Gate wall. She had already broken three knight's swords and was now holding a long spear taken from a fallen soldier. Every thrust took the life of a beastmen.
Her silver-white armor was stained dark crimson with blood, and her golden hair was matted with gore and bloodstains, yet she still stood straight atop the city wall, like an immovable War God.
"Kill! Hold the wall!" Caelesal's voice was hoarse but still carried a piercing force that spread across the entire North Gate wall.
The soldiers roared in response, using their bodies to block the beastmen's attack. The corpses on the city wall piled higher and higher; in some places, they had completely blocked the battlements, forcing the beastmen to climb over the bodies.
Meanwhile, in the dense woods on the edge of the Forest of Gloom, Kurzadh stood atop an ancient pine tree, aiming his telescope at the beastmen's flank army camp.
A smile finally appeared on his face—After the recent war horn blast, the number of beastmen in the flank army camp had noticeably decreased. Only a few scattered bonfires remained, and through the telescope, he could see only a few dozen Angor beast patrolling the perimeter. Most of the beastmen Centaurs were gone, clearly having been transferred to the front line.
"Boss, the chance is here!" Bone Tree also realized what was happening and shouted excitedly, his massive axe gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
Kurzadh nodded and lowered the telescope.
The flank army camp was now at its weakest, situated on flat grassland with no cover, perfectly suited for the greenskins to spread out and launch an assault.
As long as they took the flank army camp, they could circle around to the rear of the beastmen's front line, setting up a pincer attack—At that point, the exhausted beastmen and the heavily damaged Katushir city militia would both become the Blackrock Clan's "Spoils of war."
"Send the word," Kurzadh shouted down to Keziaz below the tree. "The night hobgoblins riding spiders will deal with the flank camp patrols first; the Orc Boyz will form a charging squad and rush straight in once the spiders clear the patrols; the hobgoblin spearmen and archers will provide cover, and the goblins... they follow to pick up the loot."
"Understood! boss!" Keziaz replied excitedly, riding his Death Crawler to relay the orders to the greenskins deeper in the woods.
The greenskins instantly erupted! The Orc Boyz raised their iron axes and let out a "WAAAGH!" cry; the hobgoblins excitedly checked their weapons; the night hobgoblins, riding spiders, moved silently toward the flank camp; even the goblins gripped their wooden sticks tightly, their eyes full of desire for spoils.
Furball also jumped down from Kurzadh's arms, whining excitedly, its green fur shimmering in the moonlight, ready to charge out at any moment.
Kurzadh looked in the direction of the distant flank camp, a cruel smile curving his lips.
Both the beastmen and Katushir had fought with all their might, but neither realized that the Blackrock Clan's greenskins would be the ones to snatch the prize in the end.
"Thanks be to Gork and Mork," Kurzadh murmured, leaping down from the pine tree and landing steadily on the ground.
Bone Tree and Keziaz immediately gathered around him, awaiting his command.
Under the moonlight, over eight hundred greenskins moved silently toward the beastmen's flank camp like a green torrent.
The sounds of fighting on the distant city walls still shook the heavens, but no one knew that an assault capable of changing the entire course of the battle was about to unfold behind the beastmen's lines.