Chapter 2072 - 554: Saint Colin Hospital Knight Order! (Part 2)

The tens of thousands of Ratmen stationed here had once relied on the terrain to put up a tenacious resistance, including some formidable Transcendents among them.

There were indeed Transcendents among the Ratmen, and not a few.

Yet, under the relentless, unreasonable heavy firepower of the Lizardman army from the Gutaf Kingdom, these Ratmen were eventually defeated in the end.

At this moment, the entrance of the cave had been cleared, with a team of fully armed Lizardmen guarding it.

Following his teammates into the cave, Sir Dickbin, who had been complaining about the difficult path, suddenly stopped in his tracks and instinctively covered his mouth and nose.

It was an indescribable odor.

It wasn't the smell of gunpowder nor the stench of corpses, but a mix of decay, excrement, and the scent of Magic Potions among other despairing odors.

By the dim torchlight on the cave walls, he finally saw the scene before him and finally understood why the captain had such a complicated expression on his face.

The vast cave was filled with numerous iron cages, stretching as far as the eye could see.

The group of Ryan people locked in the cages could hardly be called humans anymore, resembling animals waiting for slaughter.

Their eyes were hollow and numb, unaware of the changes outside the cage, without any reaction.

Not only that—

Outside the cages, there was a group of women wrapped in tattered blankets, seemingly brought out from deeper caves by the Lizardmen.

They too had hollow gazes, faces ashen as death. What was more shocking was that each of their abdomens was unnaturally swollen.

The situation here seemed even more outrageous than in the caves beneath Burial Peak, with the experimenters not content with just one birth per person anymore.

"Saint Sis above..." Sir Dickbin's Adam's apple bobbed as he painfully squeezed a curse from his throat.

What on earth is this...

What Hell.

A tall Lizardman officer walked over.

His green scales were still stained with blood, holding a disproportionately large-caliber rifle, with an ancient crystal pendant hanging on his chest.

He looked at the stunned group of human soldiers before him without saying anything unnecessary, merely giving a standard salute to Kest.

"Those rats were planning to release gas and perish together with us. Fortunately, our Scout foresaw the enemy's plans and averted the trouble."

Kest returned the salute and solemnly said.

"You've worked hard."

"Not really, you've got the busy part ahead of you."

The Lizardman officer shrugged casually, then raised a thick thumb, pointing behind him.

"They're all your people inside... I'll leave it to you."

His expression was much less relaxed than his actions, as if he couldn't wait to get rid of this mess from his claws immediately.

Understanding the complexity of the other's feelings, Kest silently nodded.

He turned around, looked at the red-eyed young men behind him, and succinctly ordered.

"Bring our people home."

No cheers, no slogans.

The soldiers silently surged forward, smashing open the chains with pliers or gun stocks, rescuing their trembling compatriots.

Finally, some began to sob uncontrollably, while others bit their teeth tightly, and some patted their shoulders, offering comfort.

"It's okay now..."

Those words were too pale, yet they were the only ones they could say.

Seeing this scene, Sir Dickbin felt as if his legs were filled with lead, his shiny old face had never felt so painfully hot as today.

So these are the people nurtured in the swaddle by Your Majesty...

No wonder Edward called them sardines, they were indeed tormented beyond recognition as humans, while he was still talking about the Second Epoch and ancient contracts.

Though most Ryan Nobles were shameless wrinkled dogs, he still had some reverence for the Holy Light, not shameless enough to spout nonsense without blushing.

Recalling the shameless lies he had told, he wished he could jump off a cliff and smash his head against the rocks to death.

But in the end, he didn't do it.

Joining his comrades, he offered a shoulder to the hobbling Ryan people walking out of the cages, speaking with a trace of repentance.

"We're... going home."

...

The artillery positions near the front line were filled with smoke, the air swirling with the acrid smell of gunpowder.

Sir Wesley stood on the makeshift command platform, slowly lowering the monocular in his hand.

Even someone as consistently calm and seasoned as he was, his face was now full of deep shock, eyes interwoven with excitement and fervor.

At the end of his vision, the once solid Ratmen stronghold had turned into a sea of fire, with the duchy's flag already fluttering amidst the flames.

The destructive firepower displayed by the Gutaf Kingdom's "Hive" Rocket Cannon completely exceeded all expectations of the Campbell officers.

The rocket shells descending from the sky were like meteor showers sent by a Heavenly God, mercilessly plowing through every inch of land. And the role of soldiers seemed only to rush forward and occupy.

This was precisely the firepower he pursued!

The only slight flaw was that the specifications of the single rocket shells were too small; it would be better if those things could be made larger!

The Campbell Duchy had previously attempted skirmisher tactics in wars, using high morale to compensate for a lack of organization, fully exploiting mobility to strike the unprotected flanks of the enemy not covered by cavalry.