Louis raised his right hand, the gesture simple and decisive: "Continue, prepare for the second phase."

"Yes, sir!" The banner soldier immediately raised the signal flag and waved it several times with swift, clean actions.

The battle flag signaled the attack.

Below the high ground, the fireline group, which had been ambushing for a long time, moved in an instant.

"Receive the order! Fireline, advance!"

The Knight Captain roared in a low voice, the battle armor clashing heavily in the night. He shook the battle blade in his hand, and the warhorse under him leapt out, leading the elite knights behind him into a sudden charge.

Heavy torches were raised high, and what spilled out was petroleum mixed to near boiling point.

Bang—!

Flames engulfed the frontline in an instant, the fire wall roaring and surging as if alive, slicing the entire position into sections.

The undead creatures shrieked with beastly twisted hoarseness as the flames licked their limbs.

Yet in the next moment, even with half their bodies charred, they kept crawling and biting, as if burning was just another force propelling them forward.

The elite Knight Captain rode forward, his blue cape speckled with gray-black sparks, and said coldly: "Briel, you take the left wing, the rest follow me to the right, don't let them crawl out from the fireline!"

"Understood!"

The elite knights of the Northern Territory were mobilized.

They were veterans who had walked through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, piercing the throats of magical beasts in the snow, each capable of taking on three enemies at once.

But this time, the enemy wasn't human.

"Ahhh! Get off!"

A knight swung his sword, slicing off an undead creature's head, yet even in its last attack, there was madness.

Its severed arm crawled up his leg armor, biting and not letting go.

"Sean! Sean, you!"

Another knight came over to knock the arm away, but that knight had already fallen, blood gushing from his neck guard, staining the gray-white armor red in an instant.

The fireline continued to advance, the fire wall twisting like a giant snake, locking the undead creatures in sections.

But even elite knights were dragged into the fire during the melee, burning with the enemy.

"Wait… is that—Benito?!"

A cry of shock caused several knights to lose focus momentarily. That figure…

Once their comrade, who laughed and drank with them, slept in the same tent, swore to watch each other's back on the battlefield.

Now, his body was rotting, pupils glowing green, sharp screams spewing from his mouth, trailing parasitic nerves like tendrils behind him.

"He's no longer human."

"Cut him down!"

Benito lunged forward, roaring, his eyes void of human emotions.

Comrades, united by flames and tears, surrounded and finally slew this former friend amid the firelight.

At the moment his head fell, vague syllables seemed to spill from his mouth.

Flames roared, smoke obscured the sky, the fire wall like a cage locking in the undead creatures, also severing their pathways.

High-tier undead creatures attempted to reinforce from the other side, but were forced back repeatedly by the intense heat, writhing and struggling in the searing air, turning into charred bones.

At the forefront of the fireline, the blockade team knights resolutely blocked the escaping remnants.

The longsword was like a wall, flesh and blood like a barrier, even if one fell, another would fill the gap.

"As long as the fire wall stands, we can suppress them!"

A knight, covered in blood, gritted his teeth and shouted.

Duke Edmund stood on high, staring at the battle that surged like tides.

His hand tightly gripped the sword hilt, his eyes rarely showing a solemn glint.

"...I see." He murmured, "This isn't a melee, it's… a game of chess."

Louis… this is nothing but step by step, forcing the enemy onto a path of death."

The fire continued to spread, the undead creatures tried to break through, but were sealed by the fire wall.

High-tier undead creatures wanted to turn back to reinforce, but were repelled by the burning heat waves.

The entire battlefield seemed to be thoroughly locked by a massive net of fire.

"It's done." The Knight Captain stood amidst the smoke and flame, looking at the disrupted insect tide ahead, "We've severed their roots, they can no longer move in unison, nor return to the nest."

"But this is not the end." He looked up towards the quieter region at the far end of the fire wall.

That was the target of the assault team.

"Now, it's time for the young lord… to deliver his true killer move."

Thick smoke blocked the sun, the battlefield surged with burning waves.

The elite knights tore an irreparable rift in the enemy's ranks with blood and fire, winning the only and crucial window for the most lethal strike—the assault team's raid.

Amidst the rolling smoke, Louis stood on the hillside, his cloak billowing, fire reflecting in his eyes.

He saw the rift on the battlefield finally take shape.

The undead creatures were torn apart by the fireline, command completely severed, the enemy formation howling like beasts, plunged into leaderless chaos.

"Now is the time." He whispered, a cold edge forming at the corner of his lips.

"Wave the flag—begin the assault."

The banner soldier raised the battle flag high, waving it fiercely, the flag tracing an arc amidst the thick smoke!

The signal for assault was sent.

From the fireline afar, Lambert turned sharply, seeing that familiar banner rise amidst the sea of fire.

His lips twisted beneath the visor, his voice like metal tearing through the air: "Now."

The assault team was deployed!

Heavy armor clanged, footsteps like thunder.

Everyone knew they were treading a blood-soaked path where hesitation was not an option.

They charged into the purgatory woven of firelight and corpses, like a blade forged by battle intent, unerringly aimed at the core of the insect nest.

The flames behind roared like wild beasts, fire waves howling, scorching wind sweeping in, the scent of charred flesh almost suffocating.

Charred undead creatures piled haphazardly, some still twitching, others with mouths agape as if chewing on death.

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