The Secret Mages chanted runes, desperately extracting the dwindling magic within them, commanding the Magic Lamp Spirits to manipulate the Sea Beasts and launch an attack;
The Priests sang the Divine Word, using the blazing Sacred Flame as a medium to summon an army composed of Flame Elf Ifrits;
And to completely eliminate the threat on the sea, Darius III even directly deployed his personal guard—the Immortal Army, ordering them to harass from the ground with the servant army...
Looking at the Persian army advancing from land, sea, and air, the Roman scholars on the deck all nodded, solemnly commanding the guards beside them:
"Open the hatch, release everything we can use, make sure to hold them back!"
Moments later, harsh metallic grinding sounds came from within the black fleet.
The [Atlantis Mechanized Soldiers] forged from bronze, the [Olympus Forbidden Guard] made of mountain copper, the spherical [Wide Area Annihilation Weapons], and the beast-shaped [Self-defense Magic Puppets]... all were awakened from slumber.
Some of them boarded the deck, operating the battleship cannons and Prism Towers to weave a dense web of firepower; others employed the Floating Technique to confront the incoming Vimana Fleet and the army of Flame Elves; while others landed on the shallows, engaging in fierce combat with the oncoming Persian soldiers.
For a time, aircraft continuously exploded in the sky, the ground was filled with the stench of blood, and magic beams showered down on the sea like rain, making the battle intensely fierce.
At this moment, on another battlefield nearly forgotten by all.
Caesar stood up from behind the ruins of a low wall, a sneer appearing on his face:
"It’s our turn, gentlemen!"
One after another, Roman soldiers emerged like bamboo shoots after rain, faces full of unyielding defiance.
The accompanying Priests and Ritualists also unhesitatingly took out Cursed Blades, slicing their palms to use blood as a medium to activate the spells:
"In the name of War God Mars, may your flesh and blood be invincible, may your blade be ever victorious!"
Instantly, the Divine Word transformed into a crimson mist, spreading around the low hillside and subsequently pouring into the soldiers’ bodies.
The previously weary Roman soldiers seemed to have consumed a tonic, their spirits enlivened, muscle strength, and magic flow speed rapidly increased, battle fervor uncontainably gathered, forming a blood-soaked wild smoke rising to the sky.
As the Priests and Ritualists neared the end of their incantation, suppressing their ferocious and grim aura, the Roman soldiers skillfully formed up, showing sinister smiles toward the Persian camp ahead.
Whoosh whoosh whoosh!
The sharp sound of breaking air exploded in sheets, soldiers swung their weapons imbued with blessings without mercy, targeting the most threatening Persian spellcasters in the camp.
In an instant, spears lashed like walls and forests, pushing ahead, arrows falling like rain, penetrating everywhere.
Because the internals were hollow, the spellcasters, usually revered like stars, lost their protection.
They were turned into pincushions by falling spears and arrows, falling from flying carpets in miserable heaps, smashing into the ground as piles of flesh.
Even when a Secret Mage sensed danger, directing part of the flames from the Divine Lamp to try to protect themselves, it was to no avail.
Because this time, the attacking Roman soldiers had all received the blessing of War God Mars.
Though this War God wasn’t particularly bright, and his blessing came with significant side effects,
at this critical moment, such concerns were irrelevant.
Of course, the results were also highly effective.
After just three waves of the offensive baptism, thousands of precious Persian spellcasters were mostly annihilated.
The remaining few were struck with terror, hastily steering their flying carpets to escape the shadow of death.
Meanwhile, sharp whistles came from the sky.
Red-black Cursed Bullets and magic beams relentlessly bombarded the flank camp of the Persian army, tearing up limbs in waves.
Seeing this, Caesar immediately raised a hand and waved:
The Roman Legion, already assembled, charged forward with an overwhelming stance, stabbing at the exposed weakness of the Persians.
Whether due to the influence of the War God’s blessing or accumulated rage, the Roman soldiers exhibited extraordinary valor.
Using the extended artillery fire, they adopted a wedge formation, penetrating into the tears of the Persian army’s formation.
With each clash, the wounds on the Persian army formation widened, and the chaos deepened.
Meanwhile, the Roman soldiers grew braver in battle, cutting through the Persian army like wolves and tigers, heading straight for Darius III, seated atop his war elephant.
In an instant, the shortcomings of the ordinary Persian soldiers’ lack of fighting strength and will were exposed, with the chaos spreading like ripples, quickly affecting nearly half of the army.
But, just as they were about to pierce the heart of the enemy, a troop dressed in black armor, wielding curved blades and round shields, numbering around two thousand, surged against the tide of retreating soldiers.
Thousands of cold arcs slashed down simultaneously, the violently tearing airflow carrying the wails of ghosts, chilling the air as blood splattered; the fleeing soldiers and the Roman soldiers forming shield formations were cleanly cut in two.
The blades pointing downwards, blood beads slid from the tips of the curved swords, forming an eerie crimson stain.
In this brief engagement, the Roman Legion in front lost an elite team of a hundred men.
While fewer than ten Persian soldiers perished.
As for the wounded, even if their arms were severed or their abdomens pierced, they could casually reattach their limbs to the stumps, allowing flesh and blood to regenerate, or pull out the arrows and continue fighting.
The ghostly reflection from the silver masks on their faces and the sinister, emotionless look in their eyes sent chills down the spines of their opponents.
Even amidst such chaos, they managed to gather over two thousand.
The lord was right; Persia’s reserves and mobilization capability are truly terrifying!
Caesar, facing the black wave standing like a high wall, as well as Darius III a hundred meters away, gritted his teeth, drew his dagger from his waist, and roared:
"Long live the Empire! Long live Rome! Imperial Guard, charge with me!"
Immediately, thousands of Roman Divine Blood Guards clad in golden armor responded, charging behind Caesar toward the Persian Immortal Army.
Slash with the sword, cut!
Thrust with the spear, stab!
The elite soldiers on both sides, like emotionless machines, mechanically and precisely repeated these simple yet effective actions.
The continuous glint of weapons, like waves stacking upon waves, swallowed one life after another.
Soon, the front line of both armies turned into a bloody slaughterhouse, with severed limbs and spilled organs covering the ground, casualties surging on both sides.
Despite Caesar repeatedly organizing assaults with the Roman Legion, these black monsters with multiple wounds, severed arms, and pierced abdomens, stubbornly held the line, standing firm against the enemy’s penetration and division.
These damn Immortal Army bastards!
Caesar, looking at these black specters, his expression fluctuating, cursed them incessantly.
No more chances, can’t drag this out any longer!
With some dejection, Caesar waved his hand, signaling the troops to convey the retreat order, eyes full of reluctance yet helpless.
If it were only these spineless Persian soldiers, another tens of thousands would merely be lambs waiting for the slaughter.
But in the Divine Era, the gap between mortals and demigods couldn’t be filled by numbers alone; a mere two thousand Immortal Army troops stalled their advance.
The desolate sound of the horn rang out, and the Roman Legion, upon receiving the order, gathered, forming a shield formation, retreating in an orderly manner.
Trying to leave? Not that easily!
As time passed, the flanks of the Persian army, once broken through, had already regrouped under the command of an old Persian general.
After stabilizing the royal court, seeing signs of the Roman Legion retreating, the old general sneered, maneuvering with the main forces to flank from both sides, intending to encircle and wipe out the intruding Roman Legion.
However, at this moment, seeing this, Caesar’s face displayed a cunning smile.
Finally, they were deceived.
Rome was not just infantry!
"Father, Zeus, trample here, dominate here!"
With a rugged shout, the dust swept high, and two Roman cavalry units, each with thousands, charged swiftly from behind the hills, like curved blades, piercing into the sides of the Persian army with lightning speed. The Persian soldiers, having just regrouped and maneuvered, were overturned, unable to turn in time, wails filling the fields.
Alexander and his Companion Cavalry made their move!