The Release That Witch
Chapters 112's

It seemed as if the knights of the King were wielding sharp silver swords as they cut off the rear of the retreating Garcia army.

The crowd broke into chaos and many people fell to the ground as they tried to escape, only to end up being trampled to death by horses.

Sometimes some of them took out weapons and tried to fight the attackers, but against the superior knights they were immediately dismembered. Leading this kind of unstoppable flood was an elite knight from the camp at Cold Wind Ridge. It was Knight Neiman who spearheaded this attack. Moreover, his dancing blue robe in the wind behind him was extremely eye-catching, wherever he went, the enemy would attempt to escape. Every time after his sword was slashed, it would be covered in blood.

Timothy Wimbledon stood in the distance on a small hill, overlooking the entire battlefield. At this point, Garcia's three thousand men were no longer able to unify their formation, instead every second they got further away, which made them almost completely stop their journey.

They won't last much longer, thought Timothy, as the second attack of my three teams was about to collapse. These people could not resist the attacks of the elite knights of Graycastle. Most of them did not even wear any armor, as the sharp blades approached them, they immediately began to lose the will to fight .

Everything happened almost exactly as he had expected, after spending an hour to pass Eagle City, they had turned around and drove through the sparse forest, finally reaching the road. Back on the road, Timothy ordered his knights to start rushing, and finally, an hour later they could catch up with Garcia.

According to Duke Frances' advice, Timothy divided his army into three teams of about three hundred knights, and let them take turns attacking different sides of the enemy. Like this, he was able to withstand several troops and was always ready to send reinforcements when needed. In order to avoid the possibility of them being surrounded, his knights were not allowed to attack the center of the enemy formation and instead they had to attack the flanks. With a short fast line, they only cut through the leftovers, with each attack only killing dozens of people.

This tactic was clearly very successful, after several runs the enemy already had over a hundred casualties, while still unable to retaliate. They even tried to set up counterattacks with their own cavalry, but the distance between their equipment and training was too far. Compared to the Knights of the King, the patchwork of cavalry momentarily was nothing more than a bunch of cavalry infantrymen. As they come face to face, a "cavalry" consisting of people brave enough to rush into battle is killed off just like that, or if they are lucky they can spread out in all directions.

This one-sided massacre was a huge blow to the enemy's morale, and before long Timothy realized some of Garcia's troops were starting to break away from the formation and flee in all directions.

The time has finally come for us to launch our ultimate attack, he thought. When the Cold Wind Knight returned from leading his attack, Timothy did not order him to start the next round of surprise tactics, instead, he gestured for him to come to his side.

"Your Majesty, their formation is about to collapse," Neiman wiped the sweat off his forehead, while leaving some traces of blood on his face as he did – of course it was the blood of his enemy, until now he had not received any injuries during the entire battle.

Seeing this, Timothy took his own handkerchief and handed it to him. "Good, you can rest now, it's finally time to deliver the death blow."

Seeing that the next round of attacks had not come, Garcia's men also realized that a decisive moment was coming. His large group completely stopped their vanguard, instead, they gathered unhurriedly, until they formed a tight formation. Each outermost warrior held a wooden spear, and raised it, waiting for its impact.

Finding this, Timothy simply scoffed, in his eyes, it was nothing more than the last struggle of a person who was already dying. Without barricades, without armor, with just flesh and blood you want to withstand the powerful impact of my knights? It can only end in disaster for you. No matter which card you leave for my little sister, you won't be able to change the outcome. Naturally, it may also be true that you have been gone a long time, leaving this group to die and buying time for yourself to escape.

But he soon found out that he was wrong.

Inside the crowd, they once again put up the Queen of Clearwater banner. Seeing the green banner with the sailboat and the crown fluttering in the wind, made Timothy frown. So he lifted his binoculars and looked at the enemy closer. He soon discovered standing behind the soldiers waving flags was the hazy figure of a woman who seemed to be shouting some orders. Even so, he could not clearly see the faces of others, yet his wind-blown gray hair gave his identity.

Garcia Wimbledon, not running yet.

After waiting for the horses to be completely rested, the new King gestured to start the main attack.

The cavalry formed from knights and bodyguards was about eight hundred strong, and under the leadership of the King's own knights, began an attack against the enemy. Once again the Cold Wind Knights who were on the edge of the attack – Neiman Moor.

Right at the moment the attack finally hit, suddenly on both sides of the horizon, a large number of troops appeared. After sending out a strange battle cry, they immediately started rushing towards the battle.

Timothy could not believe what his eyes were showing.

Without waving the flag or wearing any emblem, the troops that suddenly appeared did not resemble any known royal power. Upon closer inspection, Timothy saw that they were all wearing different armor and weapons. But with their tall stature and strange faces, Timothy knew, they could only come from one place.

The Sand Man of the Southern Extreme!

He did not need to guess anymore whether they were friends or enemies, without a doubt, Garcia was able to make a deal with them. Leading this group of fucking foreigners to the Kingdom of Graycastle. Just thinking of what this meant to make Timothy burn with anger, he immediately shouted: "Signal, stop the attack!"

But it was too late, such a high-speed attack was impossible to break with such short notice. His knights instantly pierced the hearts of Garcia's troops, cutting them like hot knives through butter, with only one goal, reaching Queen Clearwater.

Timothy excitedly looked towards the fluttering banner, hoping that it would break – Sand People troops coming from both sides each numbered around a thousand people, hoping that it would break apart, make Garcia's army of five thousand men. This was a measure that Timothy could not face. Furthermore, the Sand Man had a strong body and was always at war with each other which had turned them into a great threat even to his knights. Only by killing the enemy leader, cutting off their flagpole and destroying Garcia's army did he still have a chance to win.

However, even so, the flagpole slightly swayed but it still stood upright.

Finally, the Sand Man can close the circle, block the knight's final exit and begin to join the battle.

Without these reinforcements, Garcia's three thousand desperate people would have been defeated long ago. But at this time, they still survived, and like a swamp, swallowed one knight after another.

Hearing the horn sound to retreat, the knights closer to the edge tried to free themselves rushed back to the King. But many of them had gone too deep into the enemy forces and were now trapped, including the Cold Wind Knights.

Right now, he was fighting against a nine-foot-tall Sandpeople warrior while panting. The other side waved around the wooden stick for two men causing a small area to open up around their fight. Unfortunately, Neiman's mount has been crushed to death, and only thanks to his incredible reaction and agility can he stay alive. But without any mounts, his heavy armor led to his rapid consumption of physical strength. And when he once again stepped aside trying to dodge, his leg slipped and he was hit by a stick in the middle of his chest. The force of the attack that hit his armor was so great that it broke into two pieces.

His blue robe swayed once again through the wind before finally disappearing among the crowd.

Half an hour later, the knights who were still fighting were dwindling and as the Sand Man turned towards Timothy's hill, he gritted his teeth and gave the order to retreat. The whole group started to retreat north. Compared to the great power he had led earlier into the battle, the new King now only had three hundred people left around him.