After taking down three unlucky foes, the situation on the battlefield began to shift. The forces on both sides were now fully entangled in a chaotic melee.

  The noble knights who had been dominating the battlefield earlier now found themselves in trouble, surrounded by waves of rebel soldiers.

  Even the mightiest knight couldn't withstand an endless tide of enemies. Witnessing two noble knights being dragged from their horses, Hudson reaffirmed his resolve to "py it safe."

  He no longer had the luxury of picking off stragglers. Hudson quickly regrouped with his troops and began harassing the enemy from the left fnk.

  "Charge in and rescue our allies?"

  The thought barely formed before Hudson decisively dismissed it. His troops were far from elite. While they could handle skirmishes on the fringes, charging into the heart of the battle would be suicidal.

  The noble private armies were a testament to this. After their lords led the charge, the soldiers blindly followed, only to become bogged down in a fierce struggle with the rebels.

  To turn the tide, they would either need reinforcements from the fortress or the arrival of other noble private armies.

  Today was the deadline, and any ambitious noble private armies would arrive on time. Time was on their side, and theoretically, the longer they dragged things out, the more advantageous it would be for the anti-rebellion forces.

  But theory was just theory. As time passed, the surrounded noble knights found it increasingly difficult to hold their ground.

  The fantasy of a single charge crushing the rebels remained just that—a fantasy. The enemy seemed fueled by adrenaline, fearlessly unching attacks.

  To maximize their effectiveness, many rebel soldiers didn't even bother dodging the knights' counterattacks, even if it meant injuring their own comrades. Hudson personally witnessed a rebel soldier willingly take a spear thrust just to hurl his weapon at a knight.

  With enough numbers, accuracy and hit rates didn't matter. No matter how skilled a knight was, they couldn't defend against attacks from all angles.

  The irony of mighty knights being overwhelmed by peasants who had just put down their hoes was not lost on Hudson.

  At one point, Hudson regretted forming the alliance. If it weren't for the alliance, he would still be safely watching from the rear.

  But what was done was done. No matter how reluctant he was, he had to press on. To lower his profile, Hudson dismounted and blended into the infantry.

  As the number of comrades around him dwindled, even the triumphant Knight Chelse began to realize the gravity of the situation.

  These enemies were clearly not normal. They were bloodthirsty, utterly indifferent to their own lives—far from ordinary rebels.

  "Break through!"

  Chelse shouted.

  This was no time for heroics. No matter how important military achievements were, they paled in comparison to survival.

  While his military command skills were cking, his political instincts were intact. Many nobles had already died following his charge, and if the casualties continued, he wouldn't be able to bear the consequences.

  In his heart, Chelse cursed Count Piers' ancestors three generations back. They had come all this way to relieve the siege, and now, with the battle at this critical juncture, the count still hadn't sent reinforcements.

  Chelse and his knights were the backbone of the battlefield. Their retreat caused the morale of the noble alliance to colpse instantly.

  The first to flee were the elites of each family. It was clear that the veterans who had survived countless battles were masters of retreat.

  Unsurprisingly, Hudson also led his troops in retreat. Having stayed on the fringes of the battlefield, there was no one blocking his path, making the withdrawal remarkably smooth.

  As the noble alliance crumbled, Count Piers in Fort Ethel suddenly realized he had overpyed his hand. Reinforcements had to be sent. If the rebels achieved a decisive victory, there would be no reinforcements left.

  The nobles weren't fools. With this precedent, the arriving nobles might simply turn around and leave. Even if the matter were brought before the king, Count Piers would be at fault.

  The thought filled Count Piers with frustration. No matter how clever he was, things always seemed to go awry in practice.

  Originally, he had wanted to use the rebels to weaken the nobles of Light County, but he had underestimated the Skull Society's strength, allowing the rebellion to ravage two counties and spiral out of control.

  Then, he had tried to use the rebels to weaken the noble lords, only to find that the noble alliance was utterly incompetent, colpsing in less than an hour.

  Weakening them too much had turned into a disaster. There was a limit to everything, and whether he liked it or not, he now had to send troops to rescue the remnants of the noble alliance.

  Otherwise, he would become the enemy of the minor and medium nobles of the southeastern province. Without their cooperation, his position as governor would be reduced to a mere figurehead.

  Gathering the elite forces in the fortress, Count Piers raised his nce, mounted his fming lion, and decred, "The evil Skull Society has risen in rebellion, seeking to overthrow the sacred rule of the kingdom.

  For the peace of the kingdom, for the glory of the Lord of Dawn, for our honor, warriors of the Crimson Knights, follow me into battle!"

  The massive gates of the fortress slowly opened, and the sunlight glinted off the nces, casting a cold gleam.

  Count Piers led the charge on his fming lion, followed by over two hundred knights and a thousand cavalry of the Crimson Knights.

  The thunderous charge of a thousand horses shook the earth, striking fear into the hearts of all who witnessed it.

  Seeing the cavalry approach, the besieging rebels immediately took measures. Spearmen formed the front line, while archers unleashed a volley of arrows, raining down on the knights.

  But it was all in vain. Count Piers swept his nce through the air, deflecting the arrows and shielding himself and his mount as he continued his charge.

  As they neared the spearmen, the fming lion suddenly spewed a stream of molten va-like substance. The rebels caught in the bst were instantly turned into human torches, causing panic and chaos among the ranks.

  Seizing the moment of confusion, Count Piers plunged into the rebel forces, cutting a bloody swath with the help of his fming lion.

  Following the breach opened by Count Piers, the knights surged in, and the spear formation crumbled.

  Without their formation, the rebels were quickly overwhelmed by the cavalry, suffering heavy losses.

  But Count Piers had no time to mop up the stragglers. Ignoring the defeated rebels, he led his troops straight toward the enemy's command fg.

  Anyone with a basic understanding of military tactics could see that Count Piers was aiming to "decapitate" the enemy leadership.

  As the cavalry closed in, the gray-robed elder observing from the high ptform sneered, "The Crimson Knights, one of the ten great knight orders of the Kingdom of Alpha, truly a weapon of war!

  Rhett, sound the Blood Moon Horn. Let the cannon fodder keep these pesky cavalry busy. Let's see how many they can kill."