Following the two Tarnished Ones, the soldiers surged forward like a raging tide, smashing through everything in their path.
Though the Baron's army was large, it was nothing more than a disorganized mob.
Vyke and Nepheli took the lead, charging at the very front and cutting down enemies as they advanced. Their example drove the entire force's morale higher and higher.
Before this battle, very few in the group had ever experienced real, bloody combat. Yet at this moment, not a single person showed fear.
Those ragged troops had no way to deal with heavily armored soldiers, especially with warriors like Vyke and Nepheli carving a path ahead. How could the barons' cannon fodder possibly stop them?
The vanguard consisted mostly of starving villagers who had been driven into desperation, along with a handful of sycophants raised in the households of various lords.
They were given one full meal and then sent straight to the battlefield as expendable fodder.
If the battle went well, their numbers might allow them to overwhelm the enemy, surrounding one soldier with several men at once.
The soldiers wore chainmail, which was far weaker than solid plate armor.
But once the situation turned against them, that was the end of it.
They scattered like frightened sheep, instantly collapsing into chaos and fleeing in every direction.
"No one runs!"
The barons overseeing the battle shouted themselves hoarse.
"They only have a few hundred men! What exactly are you afraid of!?"
Unfortunately, even those same barons were already retreating. With that example, who would bother listening to their orders?
As time slowly passed, the soldiers stationed on the city walls finally saw the vanguard of the retreating force pulling away in the distance.
The villagers were utterly exhausted. They staggered and stumbled as they fled back the way they had come.
Most of them carried wounds, some light, some severe. A few looked as if they had been chased by some terrifying monster, running desperately for their lives.
On top of the earthen fortress, waves of cheers erupted among the soldiers.
"Open the gate," Nolan said calmly as he looked toward the fleeing barons. "Let's swat those annoying flies before they come back to bother us again."
The gates opened.
Vyke and Nepheli followed closely behind Nolan as he rode out, leading a unit of cavalry.
Thirty fully armed heavy cavalry formed into a neat line.
Both riders and horses were covered head to toe in solid armor, leaving only two pairs of eyes visible.
Like a torrent of steel, the iron cavalry surged forward behind Nolan, crashing ahead with unstoppable force.
Blazing firelight illuminated the vast grasslands.
In the distance, numerous riders could be seen charging rapidly across the field.
They slammed toward the defensive formation ahead while their horses thundered through wet, muddy ground.
And at their head was Nolan.
"Stop them!"
"Block them now! Don't let them break through the line!"
When Baron Will spotted the figure in striking white armor from afar, his face instantly turned pale.
Terrified, he yanked hard on the reins and forced his warhorse to turn around, fleeing straight toward his own territory.
The barons understood one thing clearly. Facing a hero head on was a terrible idea.
Their only plan now was to avoid his advance and hide behind the high walls of their own earthen fortresses.
But this sudden development threw the guards into immediate chaos.
The exhausted soldiers turned around at the commotion.
When they saw what was happening, they froze in disbelief, unsure what to say.
"You're not the ones getting chopped down, and you're running faster than us?"
They looked at each other in confusion, completely caught off guard by the situation.
Just as panic began to spread, a storm of rapid hoofbeats suddenly thundered closer from the distance.
A thunderous roar rose from the charging riders.
"Kill!"
The moment Baron Will turned to flee, the mass of cavalry behind Nolan erupted in a unified shout.
Nolan spurred his horse forward. When a noble knight rode up to block him, Nolan cut him down in a single stroke, splitting him apart.
Then he raised his greatsword high and shouted with commanding force.
"Follow me! Whoever takes a baron's head will be rewarded with ten thousand runes!"
The reward was not especially high. Once Nolan seized their territories, he would gain far more than that.
But to ordinary soldiers, it was already a considerable fortune. The promise instantly stirred their fighting spirit.
"Kill!"
With a fierce shout, Vyke took the lead. Shield raised in one hand and lance gripped in the other, he charged straight into the enemy formation without hesitation.
Dozens of elite cavalry followed closely behind him.
When the knights were cut down with ease, the barons' personal guard, already shaken and barely holding together, finally collapsed completely.
They scattered like frightened animals, fleeing in all directions, their will to fight gone.
The cavalry from Morton Manor burst straight into the enemy formation. Wherever the barons fled, the riders chased them down, cutting through everything in their path. The knights did not even dare approach their own lords.
The battlefield descended into chaos.
Battle cries, the screams of horses, and the clash of weapons blended into a deafening storm of noise.
Everyone knew the enemy numbered only a few dozen riders. Yet faced with this relentless iron cavalry, not a single person dared step forward to stop them.
Fear spread through the ranks like a disease.
Soldiers began fleeing in all directions, and the entire army teetered on the edge of total collapse.
"What are we supposed to do now?"
Baron Loda ran up to Baron Will, sweat pouring down his face as he gasped for breath.
His eyes were filled with anxiety and helplessness, but he showed no intention of blaming Baron Will.
No one could have imagined that the greedy Tarnished One would be willing to spend so much to build such a powerful force.
Baron Will looked around in confusion. He resembled a frightened child, completely stripped of the calm composure a noble should possess.
Clenching his teeth, he forced the words out.
"Tell the knights to gather the remaining soldiers and form a defensive line. As for us... we withdraw first."
"What? We're just going to retreat?" Baron Loda's eyes widened in disbelief.
Before he could continue, Baron Will cut him off sharply.
"Who could possibly drag those peasants back into line? Even the knights can't do it. Unless a hero appears to turn the battle around."
As soon as he finished speaking, Baron Will suddenly froze as if remembering something important. Then he asked urgently:
"Wait... where is Lord Leonor?"