Lord of Winter: Beginning with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 448 - 285: Frostbite Soulshock Round (Part 2)

Chapter 448: Chapter 285: Frostbite Soulshock Round (Part 2)

The berserk bulls clad in Cold Iron armor emerged out of the snow, exhaling white mist through their nostrils. Their hooves beat like war drums, pulling the custom-made heavy armored combat platforms of Red Tide Territory.

The magic steel frame of the chariots was covered with thick armor, and the side-mounted siege hooks flashed coldly in the firelight.

Inside the shooting ports on either side of the chariot, the crossbowmen were already in position, with magic explosive bolts and flamethrowers at the ready.

On each side of every Steel Beast, there was a unit of more than twenty Red Tide Knights, providing cover on the left and right flanks.

Their mission was clear: eliminate any enemy slipping through and protect the chariot from close-range sabotage.

Of course, they had to preserve themselves first, and then this “Steel Bull” combat platform.

At the forefront, Red Tide Legion Commander Lambert led the charge.

His black-armored warhorse snorted white mist, hooves pounding like war drums, as he raised his lance high and charged directly into the inferno of red mist and fire.

The roaring Steel Bulls dragged the chariots wildly, iron hooves crushing vines and flesh, splattered hot blood transforming into steam instantaneously within the blazing flames.

The siege hooks on the sides of the chariots constantly extended and withdrew, flinging the riding beasts and their riders of the Barbarian Race into the air.

The knights pressed close to the chariots, charging in and advancing along the gaps opened by the hooks.

Lances precisely penetrated the armor of the Barbarian Soldiers, before drawing swords and swiftly slashing down the fallen enemies.

In this moment, the roar of fire and iron drowned out the screams, and the edge of Red Tide swept across the entire gorge like a tidal wave.

However, the crushed bodies of the Barbarians did not immediately quiet down.

Once the red mist-enhanced flesh bodies fell, their skin would swell and crack within seconds, bursting with flesh and bone, revealing dark red vines as strong as steel wire.

The vines grew madly, climbing onto the Steel Beast’s armor plates, while the blood flowers at the tips opened tentacles and tooth-like saws, spitting corrosive and suffocating blood mist.

In past battles, these would be enough to render most warhorses into useless scrap.

But today, their fangs bit into Cold Iron.

The bodies of each Steel Beast were forged from premium Cold Iron Ore reserved by Red Tide Territory.

The cold suppressed the corrosiveness of the red mist, and its toughness could withstand the full force of a battering ram.

Thus, the blood mist condensed into dark frost marks on the surface of the Cold Iron without corroding even a single dent.

The vines climbing onto the chariot were merely wedged into the thick armor crevices, and were then ground to fragments by the wheels and chain teeth.

The blood flowers that reached the flamethrower ports had their petals incinerated to the root by high-pressure flames before they could even close.

And the Steel Beasts, fearless, retaliated with a sea of fire. With flamethrower ports open in the front and on the sides of the chariots, searing blue tongues of fire shot along the vines, burning large patches of blood flowers into charred fragments.

The knights wielded Fire Scale Oil bottles and flamethrowers for the finishing blow, igniting the scattered remnants, while the acrid smoke was swept away by the fierce wind.

In the firelight, Lambert ordered, “Advance in sections! Chariots crush them, knights apply the fire, second wave move in!”

The Steel Beasts surged forward like iron waves, crushing the unburnt remains and vines, while knights weaved through the breaches, mopping up and finishing off the enemies cleanly.

The second wave immediately reinforced and compressed the formation, ensuring the entire line of advance remained as solid as an Iron Wall, giving no chance for the enemy to regroup.

Yet, the Barbarian warriors who should have fallen convulsed under the catalyst of the red mist, with adrenaline spiking their body growth and muscles swelling until their skin burst, oozing blood.

Pupils dilated into slit beast eyes, breathing turned into deep growls.

To them, the flames were meaningless as they had lost all sense of pain.

A maddened warrior with a severed leg, like a beast unleashed, thundered in front of a Red Tide Knight.

“Aaahhh—!”

The lance pierced through his chest, but those blood-stained hands still tightly grasped the spear shaft, yanking it, dragging the knight and armor into the vine thicket.

In the next moment, the barbed vines tightened like a whip, tangling both into a vortex of flesh.

Elsewhere, a maddened warrior with his back ablaze leaped onto a Steel Beast, hooking his bare hands onto the flamethrower port, his fingers embedding into the metal seams, producing an ear-piercing tearing sound.

Until a Magic Explosion Bullet exploded at arm’s length, blasting him into a veil of blood mist.

The outer-ring knights roared as they formed a human wall of steel shields against the frenzied attackers.

The heavy crossbowmen calmly fired through the gaps in the shield wall, the magic explosive arrows creating blossoms of scarlet fireworks among the enemy ranks.

The Steel Beasts wielded hooked spears, their wheel axles grinding over the ground, throwing the approaching Barbarian away, then finishing with a final strike from the flamethrower port.

These frenetic offensives certainly exhausted the knights of Red Tide Territory, forcing the line to contract slightly multiple times, with several chariots even briefly entangled.

But with their thick defenses, proficient coordination, and the cover of the Steel Beasts, they steadied the formation, turning every assault into the enemy’s funeral.

Aside from a few soldiers unlucky enough to be dragged away by the vines, most Red Tide Knights remained safely within the formation.

Yet, not all counterattacks were effectively blocked.

From the depths of the red mist came heavy, slow footsteps, like war drums pounding beneath the earth.

A hulking silhouette, almost monstrous, emerged from the blood mist.

It was Carlos, still surviving on this hellish battlefield, a double-edged giant axe slung over his shoulder, its blades still dripping with fresh blood.

The red mist enveloped his body, with muscles swelling until they painfully split the skin, exuding dark red blood like magma flowing through cracks in a rock.

Each breath saw his chest swell like bellows, exhaling a hot gas laced with a sweet, metallic scent of blood.

His scarlet eyes shone glaringly in the smoke, like wax flames ignited by hellfire.