After a thousand calls and ten thousand pleas, the reinforcements Galen had been waiting for finally arrived in time.
Leading them was a strong man in his twenties, none other than Danath Trollbane, Galen's cousin.
He rode his warhorse, taking the lead, followed by his personal guard.
Danath led his nearly hundred-strong personal guard, inserting them into the troll ranks from the flank like a sharp knife, delivering a heavy blow to the trolls.
Danath, as the tip of the blade, raised his longsword high, using the momentum of his warhorse to cleave a troll shield guard blocking his path, splitting both man and shield in two with a single strike.
Then, he swung his shield with his left hand, swatting away the approaching trolls before continuing his charge, using his powerful strength to break through the troll formation.
The guards following Danath were not weak either; like the blade of the sharp knife, they coordinated with Danath, charging into the enemy ranks, creating a storm of blood and gore, their weapons hacking and shields slamming, either separating the heads of approaching trolls from their bodies or disemboweling them.
As Danath and his men charged into the center of the troll formation, Danath's follow-up troops arrived at the mouth of the canyon, wearing white and red-trimmed armor, draped in red war robes, with the emblem of the Stromgarde army printed on their chests: a white highland hawk.
Wielding shields and longswords, they sprinted quickly towards the battlefield.
Entering the battlefield, they quickly replaced the base infantrymen who were nearing their limits, while the remaining men transported the wounded and fallen infantrymen to the rear guard tower, where the few priests they had brought were already prepared.
With the arrival of Danath's follow-up troops, the already somewhat weakened trolls fell into further chaos.
Some wanted to support the rear, some were being pierced by Danath, unable to attend to both front and back, and some wanted to break through the front lines.
They were already thrown into disarray by a series of Raid, and the fear that had been suppressed by the acting overseer was once again ignited, causing the trolls to scurry around the battlefield like headless flies, no longer maintaining their previous formation.
The acting overseer at the center of the trolls fell into despair, having already given up commanding the troops and issuing orders.
With his military capabilities, he was powerless to turn the tide against the waves of human offensives.
Moreover, as Danath continued to break through to the center of the troll formation, he was approaching the overseer's position.
Danath, single-mindedly forging ahead, had already locked onto this troll who seemed to be the commander, his murderous gaze causing the acting overseer's hair to stand on end and his body to freeze briefly.
Freezing was also death.
As sworn enemies, the acting overseer knew that the two races could not coexist peacefully; it was a matter of you die or I die.
He drew his battle axe, preparing for one last stand, knowing that there were too many human reinforcements and that he would fight to the end as a warrior.
Danath adjusted the direction of his warhorse, charging towards the acting overseer's location, guided by the troll army's battle flag.
The shield guards beside the acting overseer formed a shield wall, attempting to stop the slowing warhorse, but after Danath knocked away two groups of shield guards, he was successfully intercepted by the trolls.
Seeing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, the acting overseer leaped heroically!
He immediately jumped up, leaping over the trolls in front of him, swinging his battle axe forward from behind, using the force of his descent to aim at Danath, delivering a charged skyward chop, intending to cleave the human, man and horse, in two.
Danath's warhorse was blocked, and he had just killed two approaching trolls.
It was the moment when his old strength was exhausted and his new strength had not yet been generated.
It had to be said that the acting overseer chose a particularly good time, as this was the moment when Danath's flaws were at their greatest, and there was a great chance of killing him with one blow.
Danath looked up and saw the acting overseer's attack about to strike, and decisively kicked back, leaving the back of the warhorse.
No sooner said than done, Danath left the warhorse, and the acting overseer's attack arrived.
Boom!!
Shhh!
The warhorse was split in two, blood splattering everywhere!
The acting overseer was drenched in the warhorse's blood, smiling hideously and terrifyingly.
Not letting up, he locked onto Danath, kicking off with his right leg, using the force to charge towards Danath.
Danath had just landed when he immediately roared to the sky, letting out a soul-shaking roar.
The trolls who were trying to besiege him faltered, and then Danath turned around and performed a whirlwind slash, cutting off the trolls' spears and killing the weaponless trolls, instantly clearing a large area around him filled with broken blades and corpses.
This series of actions only took place in a flash of lightning, and was an instinct developed by Danath from years of battlefield fighting.
He immediately turned back, raising the greatsword in his hands, accurately parrying the acting overseer's battle axe that was charging over.
From this collision, Danath roughly figured out that the acting overseer's strength was not as good as his own.
If he risked injury, he should be able to take him down within ten moves.
Being in the center of the battlefield, surrounded by shouts of killing, he knew that the battle was set.
The three thousand men he had brought, combined with Galen's men, had surrounded the trolls on both sides, and they could no longer cause trouble.
Thinking this in his heart, Danath changed his previous style of fighting and killing enemies on the battlefield, preparing to engage in close combat with the acting overseer.
His strength was stronger than him, and the battlefield situation was more favorable to him.
So what if you have strong self-healing abilities? Cut off your dog's head and see if you can heal it?
Danath and the acting overseer fought together, slashing, parrying, whirlwind slashing, blocking, hamstringing, and armor-breaking.
Under Danath's offensive, the acting overseer gradually couldn't hold on any longer.
Just as Danath was preparing for a wave of eruption to take him away, the acting overseer took out a crystal bottle filled with green liquid from his pocket and swallowed it all in one gulp.
This bottle should be Shadra's holy medicine.
The effect of the holy medicine was immediate.
The acting overseer, who had been breathing erratically, had bloodshot eyes, and his whole body's aura became violent again.
"Shadra grants me strength!"
The reinvigorated acting overseer used all his strength to unleash a whirlwind slash, sending sand and stones flying, and the collision of blades emitted a burst of sound.
Seeing his opponent being amplified by the potion, Danath had to cheer up and deal with it with all his might.
After another series of quick offensives, the acting overseer's completely defensive fighting style was not without injuries, and Danath was also injured in his life-for-life attack.
Having fought to this point, both of them were holding their breath, and Danath gradually gained the advantage.
Although the acting overseer had taken medicine, he was clearly better at military formations in the army and was not good at close combat.
Both of them were fully vigilant, and the acting overseer saw in the corner of his eye that his tribesmen were falling one after another, and the remaining ones were just stubbornly resisting.
Danath also saw the situation on the field, and victory or defeat was imminent.
He opened his mouth and said in the troll language: "You have lost, troll."
Lost, Danath's words shocked the acting overseer.
A sigh of sorrow in his heart, one wrong step, all because his talent was limited, and ultimately allowed Rak'zan, who was stronger but reckless, to obtain command of the troops.
The trolls, having lost the ancient civilization, have become primitive, only focusing on personal bravery, and have forgotten how to fight.
I am the overseer of the troops, and also a warrior, then let myself die in battle!
Galen led the infantry and musketeers, following behind the cavalry as they left the city gates. By the time they reached the mouth of the canyon, the battle was nearing its end.
The musketeers stood by, while the infantry advanced to reap the last wave of heads.
Galen Amor, mounted on his warhorse, watched the trolls' final struggles. With Danath's beheading of the acting overseer, the battle of the trolls' attack on the southern mines came to an end.
Galen dismounted, bouncing slightly to ease the numbness in his thighs from riding, then approached the center of the battlefield with Amor.
"A complete slaughter, Your Highness."
Amor walked beside Galen, commenting on the battle.
"We deployed twice the trolls' forces, Teacher Amor."
"Numbers are a factor in determining the outcome of a battle, but not the most important one, Your Highness. The Crimson Flames are not only elite but also incredibly resilient. Ordinary armies can suffer morale drops and a complete rout with over five percent casualties. The rearguard's unwavering fight cannot be described with just 'elite'; you have begun to help them forge a spirit."
Faced with Amor's praise, Galen remained silent. This was not his merit; the base's soldiers were trained to possess such qualities.
Varokal, closest to them, saw the prince surrounded by the musketeers, dismounted his warhorse, and strode over.
"Your Highness, we won!"
"Nonsense, I saw it. I told you to read more; now you can't even flatter properly. What are the unit casualties?"
"Three hundred cavalry, fifty-seven wounded, and eight brothers killed in action."
Varokal's earlier excitement diminished as he spoke.
Seeing the change in Varokal's expression, Galen understood his feelings about losing comrades, but compassion should not be in command, nor should righteousness be in charge of wealth. As his confidant, Galen hoped he could reach greater heights.
"Kal, brace yourself. The brothers sacrificed themselves for Stromgarde, a noble death. The Crimson Flames fear no sacrifice; we who live must shoulder their responsibilities. I hope you understand!"
Galen also felt deeply saddened, especially for the infantry who made the first teleportation with Gandalf. They faced trolls ten times their number in the rearguard, and their deaths were not just a string of numbers on a post-battle report; they lay on the battlefield before him, alive just half a day ago.
This is war.
"As commanders, all we can do is plan each operation well and minimize our brothers' casualties." Galen patted Varokal's shoulder. "Read more military books, Kal. Go back and memorize my Thirty-Six Stratagems."
Upon hearing Galen's words, Varokal's face was a mix of excitement from the victory, dejection from the soldiers' deaths, and horror at being asked to memorize a book.
At this moment, Omar dragged his exhausted body over. The high-intensity combat not only depleted his physical strength but also the immense pressure and casualties of the rearguard battle had taken a toll on his spirit.
"Are you injured, Omar?"
"I'm fine, Your Highness, just a bit tired. The brothers worked hard; we didn't retreat a step."
"I saw it; you all did well. How's Danath doing?"
Galen praised Omar and his men's performance. Compared to Varokal, Omar was better suited to be a commander.
"The battle here is over. General Danath just killed the troll commander and is now besieging a small team of witch doctors protected by trolls. I'm preparing to lead the less injured brothers to clean up the battlefield."
"When cleaning up the battlefield later, pay attention. Have the brothers work in pairs, be careful, trolls have strong vitality and self-healing abilities; don't let them catch you off guard. Go, I'll go find Danath."
"Alright, Your Highness, I'll pay attention."
After instructing Omar and having Varokal assist him in cleaning up the battlefield, he led his guards through the center of the battlefield towards the open space at the mouth of the canyon, where a group of soldiers was gathered, surrounding the troll witch doctors who had previously tried to approach and interrupt Gandalf's spellcasting.
Along the way, the soldiers had already begun to finish off the trolls lying on the ground, then piled up their corpses, and some were sorting out the bodies of their fallen comrades, wrapping them up. The more severely wounded soldiers had already been gathered by Omar, who applied scrolls of life to them.
Piles of corpses lined the hundred-meter path, especially the infantry's battle line, where they formed a shield wall to block the trolls. There was also a conspicuous patch of frost in the middle, with a large number of troll corpses frozen by the cold.
These were all Gandalf's masterpieces.
Galen observed for a while and found that the casualties were still within his expectations. The battle on the city wall was basically three-on-one, and the friendly casualties were minimal. The wounded soldiers could move freely again under the healing of the scrolls of life.
The main casualties were from the rearguard battle. Of the first team of two hundred and forty, one hundred and eighty infantry faced nearly two thousand trolls, losing over a hundred men.
Gandalf's second team suffered about fifty casualties.
Hiss!
Although the overall casualties were not many, the deaths of over a hundred soldiers still made Galen's teeth ache.
As he approached the encirclement, he heard Danath's roar: "A bunch of ungrateful dogs, your resistance is meaningless, fire!"
Listening to these words, Danath was a little exasperated. It was unknown how this last team of trolls had angered him.
In the end, no matter how many witch doctors were in this team of trolls, or how strange their voodoo magic was, facing dozens of times more human soldiers, any resistance was indeed meaningless, and they marched to their deaths under Danath's angry orders.
Galen stopped, bang bang bang! Boom! After a burst of musket fire, the field fell silent.
"Clean up the battlefield."
After giving the order, Danath pushed through the crowd and came out, muttering to himself.
"Hey! Galen, you're here!"
Danath saw Galen and strode up.
"A beautiful victory, Galen."
"A hearty battle, Danath."
The two clowns began a round of mutual flattery.
"What were you doing just now? The main battle is over; why did it take so long to annihilate the last team of trolls?"
"I wanted to persuade them to surrender, and then do a city gate presentation of captives. Let all the people in the city see that we completely wiped out a troll unit and captured their witch doctors. Tsk tsk, how glorious."
Galen curled his lip. This kid was made silly by listening to his storytelling and wanted to imitate ancient Rome to perform a presentation of captives.
"That's unnecessary. Dead trolls are good trolls. Why must you use live ones? Get a cart of troll heads; the effect is the same."