Before Henwell now, vast swarms of Fury Spirit shadows rapidly descend into the material world.

  Their transition from phantom to solid gives Henwell the eerie sensation of watching a holographic movie.

  Several minutes have passed since Henwell sounded the arm.

  Given the elite nature of both groups, everyone has had enough time to don armor and prepare for battle.

  Sure enough, the fortress gates swing open.

  The troops split into two formations: the Henwell’s group and the Golden Guard Knights.

  Each formation breaks down further into several squads.

  Each squad numbers just over ten, led by a Battle Knight.

  All the knights are fully armored, carrying shields, crossbows strapped on their backs, and wielding spears in hand.

  Twelve squads surge through the fortress gate, raising their shields to form a curved defensive line behind Henwell.

  Henwell shouts, “The Fury Spirit has only one weak spot, the single ‘eye’ pattern on their faces. Destroy that, and they vanish! Keep your distance! Stay steady in battle! Don’t rush! Conserve your stamina and experiment with different attack methods!”

  ”Fury Spirits are about as strong as knight attendants and know swordsmanship and other combat skills. We don’t know if there are stronger ones out there, so stay alert…”

  At Henwell’s warning, the Henwell’s group quickly adjusts.

  Three knights form the vanguard as shield bearers.

  Two knights hold shields on the fnks, tasked with both protecting the sides and coordinating counterattacks with the vanguard.

  The remaining five knights remove their heavy crossbows, slot their spears onto their shields, and sling them on their backs.

  They expertly cock their crossbows, steady their aim, and begin firing at the Fury Spirits just ahead.

  At thirty meters, the Fury Spirits’ glowing single eyes stand out clearly in the darkness—perfect targets.

  Thanks to the crossbows’ power and the knights’ proficiency, bolts easily pierce through the enemies’ heads.

  After one volley, twenty-five Fury Spirits fall with sickening thuds.

  Those Fury Spirits charging forward find their attacks blocked by the three shield bearers.

  Meanwhile, the spearmen seize the opportunity to thrust their spears precisely into the Fury Spirits’ single eyes.

  In an instant, the five squads of the Westward Group eliminate nearly the same number of Fury Spirits.

  On the side of the Golden Guard Knights, seeing the effectiveness of this fighting style, they quickly adopt a simir formation.

  However, while the knights use longbows, their excellent marksmanship allows them to consistently hit the Fury Spirits’ single eyes with precision.

  That said, the knights aren’t accustomed to this kind of coordinated ranged combat and generally dislike fighting with bows.

  As a result, their archers ck tight coordination, leading to several arrows piercing the same Fury Spirit’s eye, wasting shots.

  The Henwell’s group, having faced countless battles along the way, operates with seamless teamwork.

  When confronting rge enemy groups requiring a steady formation like this, every squad’s positioning is carefully pnned.

  The units avoid blocking each other’s lines of fire, and each crossbowman has a dedicated shooting ne.

  Every marksman has a designated target zone, ensuring no interference between shots.

  There’s no wasteful overp where multiple bolts hit the same enemy.

  After Henwell’s warning, Orak and several Battle Knights hold back from direct combat.

  They stand ready nearby, prepared to respond if stronger Fury Spirits appear.

  After several minutes of fighting, the arrows are nearly depleted.

  The Fury Spirits’ numbers show no sign of dwindling. In fact, they seem to be increasing.

  Some crossbowmen return carrying crates of bolts.

  The knights, after using up their own arrows, send people back to the fortress to bring out the kingdom’s stored ammunition.

  Though these bolts aren’t as high quality as the knights’ own, everyone notices the Fury Spirits’ fatal weakness is incredibly fragile.

  As long as an arrow strikes the Fury Spirit’s single eye—even if it only penetrates a centimeter or two—it disrupts the pattern and causes the spirit to vanish.

  At first, using the fortress’s arrows causes some accuracy issues for the knights.

  But their excellent combat discipline allows them to quickly adapt and regain precision.

  Now, the Henwell’s group adjusts their battle tactics again.

  The crossbowmen focus solely on picking off Fury Spirits between thirty and fifty meters.

  If too many Fury Spirits break through, the knights in the front line have to handle them themselves.

  Meanwhile, the Battle Knights remain vigint for any stronger Fury Spirits that might appear and stand ready to support and protect the troops if the situation turns dire.

  As for Henwell, he single-handedly holds the most densely packed Fury Spirit passage throughout the fight.

  He switches back to his war spear. After all, the war spear is easier to thrust through the Fury Spirits’ heads.

  Though the four-meter war spear is originally a cavalry weapon, in Henwell’s hands it feels anything but cumbersome.

  He wields it with incredible agility, as if holding a simple wooden stick.

  Thrust, parry, flick, smash, roll—graceful as a startled swan, fierce as thunder.

  Strike, shake, entwine, block, grind—powerful as a raging tide, steady as a mountain.

  These are the fundamental spear techniques Henwell applies masterfully.

  Though basic, few foot soldier spear experts can match Henwell’s precision and seamless transitions between moves.

  Everyone sees Henwell’s unmatched power in battle, but no one witnesses the grueling training behind it.

  No matter how busy, Henwell always carves out time to strengthen his body and refine his combat skills.

  This discipline is his foundation for survival and his greatest fallback.

  Unlike others, having chosen this path, Henwell has forfeited any right to indulgence.

  Enjoying life is something he can only consider after conquering the world. Then perhaps he’ll savor the days of “py the music, keep dancing!”

  Every step Henwell takes is paved with sweat and blood, requiring both unyielding will and courage.

  Now, the knights watch as Henwell alone sys Fury Spirits in numbers equal to several squads combined.

  An hour passes, yet Henwell shows no sign of fatigue, not even a flicker of his Fighting Spirit.

  He single-handedly blocks a massive Fury Spirit assault.

  Within his range, not a single Fury Spirit slips through.

  To the knights, Henwell truly deserves the title of the leading young warrior.

  But what they don’t know is that despite his fierce dispy, Henwell’s mind is growing anxious.

  After more than an hour, the Fury Spirits show no sign of dwindling.

  Meanwhile, the troops’ arrows are nearly spent.

  Soon, close-quarters combat will be inevitable.

  There are still three to four hours before dawn.

  If the Fury Spirits can’t be wiped out soon, many knights are bound to fall here today.