This small hill, known locally as Umbrella Mushroom Mountain, has never been as crowded with people as it is today.

The 30,000 Donifgaard army was routed and driven by the Northern Coalition like cattle.

If it was just to drive away, then these soldiers who had already been beaten last night and lost their souls would not be able to react at all, and would just follow the large army aimlessly.

But when the northerners put on a posture of encirclement, the routs of Nilfgaard suddenly became excited, like barrels of dynamite after ignition!

They are still trained professional soldiers, and the invincible army of Nilfgaard is also a soldier quality that far exceeds the average of soldiers in other countries.

So they reacted immediately: the northerners didn't want to let them go!

"We still have weapons! We also have armor and horses! Rush out! We're coming back to Sintra! ”

At first it was just a cry in the midst of a chaotic rout, but soon, the cry spread.

And so on this small hill and at the foot of the mountain, the bloody killing began again.

People want to be alive, to be safe.

The Nilfgaard wanted to return to their territory of occupation, and at this moment, even though they had been deranged from the last night's battle and defeat, they were hysterically screaming and drawing their weapons.

There was no establishment and command, but they were forced to a dead end, and they still broke out their last bloody bravery.

Although the northerners have the organization, support, organization, and command, there are too many people on the other side.

Within a radius of three kilometers, it is actually the numerical superiority of the Nilfgaard people.

Because the Northern Coalition was the victor in the battle, they had to ensure the smooth and safe passage of their supplies, take care of the wounded, and clean up the battlefield.

These forces were scattered throughout the battlefield, and the Nilfgaards, as a rout bent on fleeing, did not care about anything.

The blood-colored charge and interception began.

On this hill, countless people began to fight, and the blood plasma flowed down the mountain, almost becoming a stream.

The horse neighed and tried to break through the defense, but was stabbed in the chest in front of the spear of the halberders, and fell to the ground with a wail.

Because the Nilfgaard people desperately wanted to flee for their lives, this breakthrough and interception entered the highest intensity in an instant!

The Nilfgaard army had never experienced such a rout, and therefore had no experience.

It was not even included in the daily training, and in the long-standing military climate, the non-commissioned officers of Nilfgaard who wanted to train and reorganize after the collapse were dubbed 'cowards'.

This army is already too proud.

At the very top of the hill, a thunderous chant sounded, and these subdued, secretive chants even overpowered the screams and wails of the human beings before they died.

"Alzu's Thunderbolt!"

A female voice with an echo effect from the magic of chaos resounded through the sky.

Golden lightning scurried through the unusually low clouds and then fell from the sky, linking and glowing like deadly chains among the black-armored crowd, bringing with them a wail of pain.

The gathered crowd is indeed very suitable for warlocks to play, and this one spell directly empties a piece of mountain land on the hill!

Not to mention 300 people!

In other scenarios, three hundred heavily armed and experienced veterans faced a warlock who could unleash the [Arzu Thunder Technique], it is estimated that it would cost less than forty casualties to cut off the warlock's head.

And that's just a spell from a warlock.

"Triss, don't just use powerful spells! Your magic will be overwhelming! ”

Yennefer of Wengerberg was a friend of Triss since her time at the academy, with large black waves, violet eyes, and the delicate countenance and delicate skin that sorceresses always have.

It's just that the black and white clothes make people think that she is from Nilfgaard's side at first glance.

"But we must cut their numbers as soon as possible! Otherwise, the defense line will not hold! ”

Triss replied loudly to Yennefer, her burgundy hair already tied up with exhaustion and anxiety.

As she spoke, Triss began another round of chanting.

Powerful flames began to appear on her hands.

Ye Naifa scolded: "Hell! Damn it! Take it easy! Beware of the magic getting out of hand! ”

With that, she also began to cast her own spell, and the cold white force field light converged on her chest, echoing a star pendant hanging from the neck ring around her neck.

A powerful shockwave swept across a large area, and the Nilfgaard rolled down the hillside in their sturdy armor.

Judging from their own weight, when they finished rolling and stopped, eighty percent of the flesh in the armor would soften into a puddle.

"Tishaya, help Trissy! She's reckless! ”

Yennefer telepathically shouted to 'Tishaya' on the other side of the mountain. The actual distance between them is not close, but fortunately, the control range of the spell can be taken into account.

"Don't be noisy! I'm doing it! ”

Tishaya's response was a far cry from what Yennefer remembered her speech and demeanor.

But now in the midst of an anxious and terrifying battlefield, Yennefer did not notice anything unusual about it.

There were twenty-three warlocks summoned by Vigo Fortez.

They usually mingle in the glittering royal drinking parties, or immerse themselves in their own laboratories and indulge in research.

Everyone is a model of a warlock.

Rational, logically clear, noble and rich, and strong in mana.

And at this moment, the killing atmosphere of the battlefield is infecting the minds of everyone in this Shura field.

On the battlefield, all the plans and scenarios that these casters' clever brains had envisioned turned into a blank.

The fierceness of the battle and the cruelty of the fighting are far beyond the imagination of these 'noble figures' and 'researchers'.

So as soon as she first came on the court, the fastest and best performance was actually Triss.

This red-haired beauty with a delicate voice is actually stronger and more determined than anyone else in her heart.

"Well done these warlocks!"

In the command post, Foltest put down the monoculars and said excitedly.

"The number of Nilfgaard is dwindling massively, and the pressure on the defensive line is decreasing!"

But bad luck is like an eagle that hovers overhead for a long time, and then descends when the time is right.

The first to come into the accident was Brugg's Fannill.

This sorceress had a graceful figure and a good face, and was once used by Margarita to tease Lane.

But she was also apparently frightened by the Shura field she was in, and her fear turned into hysteria to release her magic.

People are frightened and always like this, and those who have no strength turn and run away.

People who are confident in their own strength will push too hard in a panic.

She gathered the chaos magic that was so fierce that it was beyond her control, and she herself was bleeding from her nostrils and eyes.

The spells weren't well compiled, just spilled out a magical flame that didn't form.

It's just that because there is too much demonic power, the flame wave seems to be very wide.

But this magical flame only flashed out for a while, and it was not sustainable at all, so it had no lethality.

Instead, the ordinary troops guarding her were shocked and spread out a big gap.

Chaos magic is the energy that makes most creatures feel uncomfortable and frightened, because this energy is like nuclear radiation, which can induce normal creatures to mutate and deform.

The general level of knowledge of the northern army is not high, and many people still have superstitious habits. Witches are considered to be a symbol of uncleanness and bad luck.

Let the wizards they protect throw spells far away, and they can still withstand the psychological pressure.

But Fannille's magical flames grazed their helmets, and panic was inevitable.

And at the moment when the formation was loose, a flying arrow flew silently in the wind, and no one noticed it in the chaos.

When the soldiers regrouped, they realized that the beautiful sorceress was hopeless.

The cold arrow plunged into the sorceress's lunbe, and now the blood foam she spat out was oxygen-rich pink.

This was the first Northern Warlock to die in Umbrella Mushroom Mountain.

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(End of chapter)