At the battle ongoing at the mule and horse market beneath the west gate, all was normal during the first half hour.

The city defense force truly justified the Bartalises' years of substantial support. Their individual soldier quality and battle formation organization far surpassed the temporary armies composed of various nobles' private troops.

They didn't just withstand most of the undead assaults, but had also learned from the Radiant Sun Church's knights: actively using squad interlacing tactics to reclaim many private soldiers and mercenaries that were nearly carried off, infuriating the undead immensely.

Half an hour later, the city defense force, frequently changing formations and continuously covering for their allies, gradually became exhausted. The disorganized mercenaries' battle lines and the noble private troops' battle lines, barely better than the former, began to suffer losses…

"Hold them back! Stop them!" The panting city defense force commander, Horn, witnessed the mercenaries' line being breached and the fearless undead charging in a frenzy to carry men off. He urgently wheeled his horse around, leading the most elite cavalry squad across the battlefield toward the breach.

A charge cut off the undead's attack path and maintained the nearly collapsed line. Horn, a few years older than Wagner, felt his throat burning with each breath he took.

Before Commander Horn could catch his breath, another side of the battlefield, where the noble's private troops were stationed, erupted into chaotic cries for help and furious curses…

Mercenaries active in Indahl and the private troops employed by noble families weren't weak, and every one of them possessed adequate combat strength. However, these mercenaries and private soldiers were only accustomed to small-scale battles and had little sense of mutual assistance. When gaps appeared in their own lines, they would tend to protect their own, which resulted in any breach expanding twice over if they were left to their own devices.

Commander Horn had no choice but to muster his strength once more and lead his men to provide support.

"Why is there no progress with the camp assault?!"

Having rode back and forth several times, the already short-tempered Commander Horn summoned his deputy and lashed out in fury during a brief respite.

"We can't break through!" the disheveled deputy reported. "The closer we get to the enemy camp, the stronger the undead's resistance. The third and fourth squads have already lost several men; I just pulled them back and sent in the ninth and tenth squads!"

When the Radiant Sun Church's knightly order fell at the unnamed wasteland, the city defense force had also sent observers. In the aftermath, Commander Horn often summoned his officers to discuss how to avoid the fate of the Radiant Sun Church's knights when facing the Weisshem undead army.

The conclusion of the discussion was that to defeat the undead legion, the enemy camp, which could summon skeletons limitlessly, had to be destroyed.

This time, the Weisshem camp established at the frontline was extensive, and since they had lost contact with the scouts dispatched earlier, Commander Horn could only wait until the battle began to determine which tent within the enemy camp was the summoning spot.

However, even if the enemy's weak point was glaringly displayed, striking it precisely was no easy feat. The closer the city defense force got to the camp, the denser the undead became, and the speed at which the skeletons were being replenished far outstripped the rate at which they could be eliminated, making any advancement impossible!

"If only we had a spellcaster." Commander Horn sighed, looking skyward.

Indahl City did have spellcaster activity, like "Lich" Envie, who operated around the southern border of the Rhine Kingdom. But after the news that the Nightmare Butcher had arrived in Indahl and stayed in Weisshem spread, those spellcasters had disappeared.

As the head of the strongest military might in Indahl, Commander Horn was privy to more information than the Church of Lady Gold Coin's night watchmen; for instance, the real reason why local spellcasters avoided the Nightmare Butcher at all costs…

Before the Nightmare Butcher, Yang, became an internationally wanted man due to escalating conflicts with the Radiant Sun Church, he had already earned the nickname "Mobile Contamination Source" among spellcasters… No normal spellcaster would want to deal with him.

The Bartalis family did have spellcasters in their employ, but it only started in Adra III's grandfather's generation, and these spellcasters were now still mere apprentices in a neighboring territory's Mage Tower and wouldn't make a difference in the current situation even if they were recalled.

Commander Horn was well aware that if they lost this battle, the Bartalises still had a way out. Adra III could take refuge in another territory, and after one or two generations, the Bartalises could amass the strength to make a comeback. But for Horn himself, there was no route out!

Wagner, who was once marginalized by him, now thrived under Charlie Rex, and Horn was well aware of the situation regarding Weisshem's militia. Despite them being employed by Rex, the former militia captain, Kardo Gauld, was still languishing in Weisshem's prison!

The Horn family's honor was entirely tied to serving the Bartalises as the lords of Indahl. If the Bartalises were no longer the lords, the Horn family's generations-long dream of ascending into high society would end with him!

After taking a hefty gulp of honeyed water handed by an aide, Commander Horn desperately steadied his hand that was trembling from exhaustion and raised his sword. "Abandon the line, charge at the enemy camp with all our might!"

His aides paused briefly, then upon digesting the command, echoed it loudly.

The city defense force soldiers, struggling to hold the line, quickly disengaged from the clutches of the undead and converged toward Horn like a surging tide.

Without the support of the city defense force, the lines of the private and mercenary troops were rapidly breached by the undead. Those who retreated slowly screamed in despair as they were dragged away by the undead.

The nobles on the city walls, witnessing the city defense force's apparent disregard for their allies, were livid with accusations. When Adra III saw his prime army, built up and maintained with countless silver, charging alone at the enemy's stronghold, his face turned dark…

If Horn was able to hear Adra III at the moment, he would undoubtedly face a torrent of scolding. Since they couldn't withstand the onslaught, why hadn't Horn ordered a retreat to preserve their strength?!

Gould, who understood military affairs, sighed. He recognized why Horn had taken such drastic action.

Continuing to hold out would only result in being dragged down by allies who couldn't even maintain their lines, leading to their defense falling even faster than the Radiant Sun Church's knights. It was better to make a final stand while they still had the strength and gamble on destroying the enemy's camp!

This tragically heroic assault lasted for 20 minutes. Horn, leading the charge, got as close as 50 meters to the Weisshem camp at one point.

This distance allowed him to clearly see inside the camp and spot the camp that continuously spawned undead as well as the man standing beside it.

The man casually observing the battlefield was dressed like a gentleman one might see in a nicer area of Indahl City.

But the man's features, framed by slicked-back hair that reached his shoulders, bore a striking resemblance to wanted posters seen all over the continent decades ago…

The moment he recognized this man, Horn's will to fight completely evaporated. Surrounded by loyal aides and officers, he retreated hastily from the frontlines in silence, his face pale and lips blue.

The Nightmare Butcher was personally guarding the tent that summoned the undead… How could they possibly win?!

Inside the Weisshem camp, seeing the enemy commanders flee while the undead gleefully captured nearby stragglers, Rex asked, "Yang, is it okay to let those people escape?"

Yang glanced casually at the chaos sprouting in the observing crowd on the city walls and replied nonchalantly, "Let's leave them some decent commanders. Otherwise, those folks might cause trouble for the city folk."

Rex nodded his head silently, realizing Yang's intent. This battle had to be won squarely and unquestionably, so he, a noble without a title, could firmly establish his rule in Indahl after their victory.

Defeating all the forces the Bartalises could muster was the clearest demonstration of Weisshem's overwhelming strength.

Rex looked toward the undead, who expertly subdued and hauled away their foes. In any case, they seemed to be enjoying themselves… A few more rounds of battle would meet everyone's expectations.

December 4, 6 a.m., Earth time, noon in OtherWorld. After an hour of fierce combat, Weisshem triumphed in the first battle. The Indahl city defense force, having lost over 700 men, 1,400 private soldiers, and 200 mercenaries, retreated hastily into the city.

The reason the private soldiers of the nobility suffered the most was straightforward. These well-equipped troops caught the players' eyes, as their quality gear with enchantments were revealed via "Identify." Were it not for the city gates being just behind them, not a single one of these private troops would have escaped.

With the Indahl forces demoralized after their crushing defeat, the players didn't waste time celebrating but quickly proceeded to allocate the spoils of war. Many players were eager to log out to prepare for their day, leaving little time to dawdle over loot distribution… A process that ended up taking as long as the battle itself.

Adra III and the local nobility had no interest in watching the undead outside the city walls distribute what used to be their possessions. After descending from the city walls, the first thing these usually dignified individuals did was check how many of their privately sponsored soldiers remained.

In the Indahl territory, 40% of the arable land belonged to these gentlemen, and each noble family owned several vast and fertile farm estates. To protect their property from infringement, financially capable nobles needed to maintain their private soldiers.

Even the dispossessed Baron Markus had his small private army of a few dozen men. If he thought his forces could handle Rex, who had a black mage at his disposal and could command an army of the undead, Baron Markus would have already tried to take down Charlie Rex at Weisshem.

After counting their losses, these nobles, who usually cared greatly about how they portrayed themselves in public, were so infuriated they were pounding their chests and stamping their feet.

The worst-hit families were completely wiped out; even those who suffered the least lost at least half of their forces!

Adra III, who felt nauseous from the losses of the city defense force, tried to muster the energy to convene the nobles to discuss the next round of battle… only to find that they had all disappeared.

With heavy losses and no real intention of fighting to the death, the local nobles were not willing to engage in futile efforts alongside the sinking ship that was the Bartalis family.

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