The mountain wind shuttled between the dense forests, carrying a suffocating stench of corpses.

Weir held his breath for a while, but ultimately lowered his voice and said, "God, is that the Nest... It's so, so disgusting."

He spoke softly, yet his voice trembled uncontrollably, as if afraid of disturbing the world of silence and writhing below the valley:

Below the slope was a gorge that seemed to be torn open by the earth.

Sunlight could not penetrate the treetops, leaving only dim shadows and darkness, outlining a huge shadow that seemed to wriggle like a living creature.

The Nest was nestled in the deepest part of that shadow.

It looked like some enormous beehive or a festering organ, situated on the mud, its surface covered in a resin-like shell of a pale color, each subtle movement producing a sticky wet sound.

On that shell were embedded blurred faces of humans, mostly adult men, with distorted, struggling expressions, as if frozen eternally in pain, sealed within a nightmare-like amber.

Nearby the Nest, rows of insect corpses moved slowly.

Some of these insect corpses had once been human, some were formerly magical beasts, and some vaguely resembled knights.

Their eyes were hollow, their steps uniform as if guided by invisible threads, lifting and casting bodies into the opened fissure of the Nest.

It resembled a ritual of the dead.

Silent, repetitive, endless.

This was not a battlefield but a theater of sacrifice.

No one could utter a word.

Even Duke Edmund, seasoned in battle and accustomed to gore, frowned slightly, standing beside Louis, gazing at the scene defying common sense, a rare heavy expression in his eyes.

He patted Louis's shoulder, as if comforting him: "I don't think this is something you should handle."

The Duke's tone was not reprimanding but advising, having recognized the young man in front of him, often regarding him as a future cornerstone.

Yet, having never encountered it, he did not know if his own strength as a Peak Knight could withstand it, let alone Louis's knights.

He wished to persuade further, even considered issuing a strong order to retreat.

But turning his head, he saw in Louis's eyes no hesitation as he looked at the Nest, but a gaze as if surveying a castle awaiting assault.

The young man's expression was focused, his eyes fervent, a glow only those confident in victory would possess.

Edmund wanted to say more, advising him to abandon this dangerous gamble, but ultimately he held his tongue.

Letting this spirited young man suffer a setback also wasn't entirely bad.

Who in their youth hasn't been slapped by reality a few times, learning genuine caution and skill?

Besides... he was already absurdly stronger than most.

Their location was a concealed slope about two miles away from the Nest, surrounded by woods on three sides.

To ascertain the Nest's scale before it spread, Louis had led the raid team at noon, traveling non-stop until this evening.

Finally reaching the "heart" built of rot and fear.

"Prepare."

The wind continued to howl on the slope, stirring fallen leaves and dust.

Yet Louis's voice was as steady as a rock, unwavering as he squinted at the enormous Nest encircled by insect corpses, raising his right hand slightly, fingertip trembling.

The knights hiding under the trees held their breath, gripping specially made spears bound with Magic Burst Crystal Cores, weapons capable of tearing rocks and burning through Iron Armor.

Louis gestured.

"Release!"

In the next instant, several streaks of cold light whizzed from the shadows, tearing through the sky, heading directly for the Nest!

Air seemed shredded, the screech piercing through eardrums.

The spears dragged brilliant red trails, like meteors descending from the heavens, shooting fiercely towards the enormous black-red Nest.

However.

"Bam!"

A thick tentacle, as dark as ink, suddenly sprung from the Nest's surface, striking the flying spears, knocking them along with the bursting light to the ground.

Boom! Fire erupted but only burned a shallow pit at the gorge's edge.

Then, a second, a third... countless tentacles oozing stench and slime exploded from the Nest's surface.

Like a disturbed deep-sea monster, they flailed wildly, forming a suffocating defense, intercepting all incoming spears.

"Tsk." Louis squinted his eyes, whispered softly.

And as the echoes of the explosion hadn't faded, nauseating sounds emerged from the valley.

"Cluck... cluck cluck cluck... gaaah—"

One of the insect corpses, having lay orderly to cast bodies, suddenly halted.

Its head twisted abruptly, the unnatural seam of bones in its neck emitting creaking sounds.

Then, like an out-of-control puppet, it began convulsing, issuing low murmurs mimicking human speech but entirely incoherent.

"Murmur... return... murmur... mother..."

Its fingers twisted, trembling, footsteps retreating and rotating, as if struggling or obeying an irresistible call.

The next moment, as if a chain reaction was triggered, hundreds, thousands of insect corpses convulsed violently.

Humanoid insect corpses began to howl upwards, voices like screams or cheers.

Magical beast insect corpses started to kneel, tongues writhing on the ground.

Some half-decayed knight remnants even raised their Broken Swords high, turned towards the slope.

A pair of murky white-filmed eyes suddenly focused on the distant observers.

It wasn't a roar, nor a call, but a kind of echo of an assembly order.

They began to stir violently, shoving and biting each other, rushing up the slope from the valley floor with reckless abandon.

The formation was chaotic, the movements twisted, yet carried a fervent fanatical frenzy.

A pure, frenzied impulse for group slaughter!

"Disturbance group knights, advance the entire army."

Louis's command was calm and firm, like a stone of ice thrown into the Abyss.

As the command flag waved, several knight teams filed out from both sides of the forest, five knights in a team.

Burning with red fighting energy, they rode warhorses like scarlet meteors along the valley sides, instantly disturbing the swarming black fog of the insect corpses.

"Focus on disrupting, no hard fights!" The frontline captain roared the order.

Hooves flew, dirt scattered.

The Red Tide Knights skillfully galloped around the outer circle of the insect corpses, each approach accompanied by sweeping spears, thrown petroleum bottles, and piercing lances.

Each strike tore open a chaos of corpses and pus, yet they never lingered for glory, retreating swiftly, though accidents always happened.

"Ugh!"

A low growl suddenly erupted, a young knight in the front team was a beat too slow, his shoulder struck by a heavy sword swung by an insect corpse, sending both horse and rider tumbling to the ground, rolling into the dirt.

That was no ordinary corpse.

In life, it had been a knight of the elite Northern Territory legion, devoured by the Nest after death, yet still retained its military muscle memory.

Its body was as stiff as iron, yet it could wield a sword to kill with precision, pouncing and biting like a beast, with immense strength.

"Sven!" A teammate shouted, but the response was no more.

Just as he fell, the insect corpses swarmed, engulfing him, armor bitten through, flesh peeled away.

Yet astonishingly, the broken insect corpse, after having its legs chopped off, crawled with two mangled forearms.

Its teeth biting the ground, it shot forward like a snake, lunging again at the hind leg of another knight's warhorse.

"Damn!" Another knight quickly flipped backwards, throwing a short spear to pin it to the ground, barely avoiding the lethal strike.

But the more horrifying was yet to come.

From within the slain insect corpse, a bubbling explosive sound suddenly emerged, swelling sac-like tissues burst out from its abdomen.

Green-black corrosive liquid sprayed out, scattering on the ground, even causing the rocks to sizzle.

At the same time, hundreds of semi-transparent parasites gushed from its burst torso, rising like smoke, frantically wriggling towards all directions.

"Face shields! Fully sealed!"

"Hold your breath! Don't expose breathing holes!"

The well-prepared commander roared orders, as all knights pulled down their sealed helmets and continued brandishing their lances.

Their armor corroded by the insects, low growls emerged from their mouths, but their eyes remained resolutely clear, not a single one fell under the infestation of the insect swarm.

No one fled.

In shouts of rage, all charged again and again, circling, retreating, then charging again!

Fighting energy burned fiercely, turning into blazing red flames on each Red Tide Knight!

Fear was suppressed with each spear thrown.

Anger burned fiercer with each fallen comrade.

The insect corpses surged like tides, Red Tide Knights burned like flames.

Continuously disrupting, luring, harassing, forcing the insect corpses around the Nest to gather toward the perimeter.

It was a "lure-the-enemy" operation close to death.

But they succeeded.

When the first rays of sunset shone through the forest into the valley, the shadows in front of the distant Nest had thinned.

A large number of insect corpses were lured to the outer circle by the Red Tide Knights, mindlessly chasing, roaring but never able to extinguish this elite fire.

Duke Edmund stood at the edge of the rock, his eyes locked tightly on the red-clad knight formation threading through the black tide in the valley.

He did not speak, but the tremor between his brows was almost hard to hide.

This was not a training exercise, nor an exhibition.

It was a lure-the-enemy battle on the brink of Hell.

And they executed it so cleanly and neatly.

Precise coordination, firm formation, calm execution through life and death...

Even though they were only "Official Knights," not one fled, not one was consumed by fear!

Even when comrades fell, even while insect corpses bit relentlessly, those knights only roared, gritted their teeth, and charged again!

Edmond was astounded by the discipline of the knights under Louis.

Even with a territory not established for two years, with scant resources... still, he had forged such a team?

He glanced at the silent Louis beside him, the young man dressed in a deep red cloak, standing straight, his face unperturbed.

As if those charging were not soldiers, but pieces on his chessboard, steadily advancing the game he had laid out.

And Louis remained in the wind, gazing forward, eyes as calm as a mirror.

"Very well," he said in a low voice, "continue, prepare for the second phase."

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