The ghouls clustered far from the battlefield erupted as if a pot had boiled over when they saw the Mad Dragon Knights charging toward them, scattering in all directions. They abandoned even the crucial catapults, fleeing toward the rear of the fighting.

Seeing this, Mo Han and Murong Tian on the sidelines registered confusion in their eyes. Murong Tian was puzzled because he knew the devastating power those massive siege engines held against the human allied forces. Logically, the Nether race should have defended them to the last man, which was precisely why Murong Tian had previously issued orders to destroy those catapults at any cost.

Yet now, these Nether soldiers dispersed without putting up any real resistance. Everything defied common sense. Murong Tian, deeply versed in tactics, naturally felt perplexed. Mo Han, however, recalled Blaze telling him that the Nether race never produced deserters; they would fight until all were dead rather than flee. The fact that these Nether soldiers were running without a fight was a clear contradiction to their nature, hence Mo Han’s expression of doubt.

Just then, Mo Han, who had been standing still, suddenly sensed a powerful aura of death slowly enveloping the entire battlefield. His expression shifted instantly: he urgently called out, “General Murong, recall the Mad Dragon Knights now, or it will be too late!”

With that, Mo Han swiftly flew above Weihai City.

Hearing Mo Han’s shout, Murong Tian and everyone present felt their expressions change abruptly.

Yet, they were acutely aware of Mo Han’s capabilities and knew he wouldn't make such a pronouncement without grave cause. Considering this, Murong Tian asked no further questions.

He immediately issued the order to retreat.

The Mad Dragon Knights, currently mid-charge and barely a hundred meters from the catapults, faltered slightly upon hearing the sudden withdrawal command. For ordinary cavalry, halting and wheeling back during a full charge would surely cause massive disarray; cavalry cannot stop on a dime like infantry.

However, the Mad Dragon Knights were battle-hardened elites forged by Murong Tian himself. Although their formation showed initial signs of disorder, they quickly stabilized under the guidance of their officers, swiftly reversing front to back and retreating rapidly toward the main camp of Weihai City.

The very moment the Mad Dragon Knights began their withdrawal, the dozens of previously stationary catapults suddenly belched out plumes of black mist. Then, countless Nether figures clad in black robes and wearing strange, horned helmets appeared beside the siege engines.

As these Nether figures materialized, the Pope of Light standing high on the viewing platform gasped in astonishment, “Nether Wizards! I didn't expect the Nether race to deploy their main forces so soon.”

Hearing the Pope’s words, Mo Han, suspended in mid-air, felt a jolt of alarm—his suspicion had indeed been confirmed.

With the appearance of the Nether Wizards, Mo Han knew their origins well from his conversations with Blaze: the Nether Undead Wizards were practically the main fighting branch of the Nether race.

The inherent power of these Nether Wizards wasn't overwhelmingly strong; their most terrifying aspect was their expertise in unleashing pestilence. Only high-ranking clergy, equivalent to a Light Priest level or higher, possessed the ability to lift the plagues inflicted by the Nether Wizards. Common priests could not touch these curses.

Furthermore, the most dreadful ability of these Nether Wizards was the resurrection of the dead. Any corpse, regardless of how long it had been deceased, could be compelled by the Nether Wizards to serve as their obedient army. These resurrected corpses could not truly die unless they were chopped into multiple pieces.

The only other method of disposal was the death of the controlling Nether Wizard; upon their demise, the controlled soldiers would naturally revert to a lifeless state.

Consequently, in every engagement between humans and the Nether race, the Nether Wizards had always been humanity's most troublesome troop type. The saving grace, however, was that these Nether Wizards had limited magical reserves and could not sustain their powers for long periods; after casting one major spell, they required several days of rest to recover combat effectiveness.

Thus, in typical engagements, the Nether race would only deploy these Wizards in the direst of circumstances. That they were sent out so early explained the astonishment of the Pope of Light and his cohort.

The black mist, driven by the Nether Wizards, rapidly caught up with the Mad Dragon Knights who had not managed to retreat in time. Cavalrymen touched by the mist screamed as they fell from their saddles, instantly becoming corpses. Even the sturdy warhorses suffered the same fate, collapsing with mournful cries and soon ceasing to breathe.

Witnessing these gruesome scenes, everyone above Weihai City’s walls turned pale. Despite knowing the formidable nature of the Nether Wizards, they were still staggered by the sheer carnage. Murong Tian, in particular, wore an expression of profound grief.

These Mad Dragon Knight riders were the hundred-battle veterans he had painstakingly trained. To see them perish not by the enemy’s blade, but by an inexplicable plague, made his suffering imaginable.

At that moment, a vast, gentle white light ascended from above Weihai City, swiftly enveloping the entire battlefield. Under the radiance of this light, the black mists vanished without a trace, halting further casualties among the human allied forces. It was the Light Magic cast by Mo Han, who had anticipated the danger.

Even so, in the blink of an eye, a third of the tens of thousands of Mad Dragon Knights on the field were lost or wounded. At least twenty thousand riders, caught at the rear and unable to escape, had turned into corpses—a heartbreaking sight for Murong Tian.

However, thanks to Mo Han’s timely warning, the Mad Dragon Knights avoided complete annihilation. Had they advanced even slightly closer to the catapults, it was likely that the entirety of these ten thousand elite cavalry would have been felled by the plague.

Just as everyone allowed themselves a moment of relief, strange chanting sounds emanated from the mouths of the Nether Wizards, and waves of black magical fluctuations began to slowly manifest behind them, creeping toward the battlefield.

Seeing this development, the Pope of Light quickly instructed a Cardinal beside him, “Not good! They intend to raise the dead! Quickly notify Jelson and the others to cleanse those fallen bodies.”

Following the Pope’s command, the Cardinal hastily drew a communication stone and relayed the order. The thousands of Light Priests and Exorcists waiting silently below the city walls, upon receiving the command, began a slow chant. Gentle white lights immediately appeared in the sky, slowly spreading over the battlefield.

The human soldiers who had perished from the plague, illuminated by the white light, dissolved into motes of dust vanishing into the void. Witnessing this, the soldiers of the human allied forces wore expressions of sorrow. These were their comrades from yesterday, now leaving behind not even a corpse. It was understandable why they grieved so deeply.

Yet, they knew this was unavoidable. If these soldiers were not purified, they would only become puppets of the Nether race, finding no peace even in death. For them, this dissolution was perhaps the best possible outcome.

However, the cleansing spell was only effective on those who died from the plague. For the human soldiers killed normally by ghouls, it had no effect. Several thousand allied soldiers, tainted by the black mist, slowly rose to their feet, then, under the control of the Nether Wizards, rapidly charged toward the allied main camp.

Seeing this, the allied defense line before Weihai City showed a ripple of instability. Facing soldiers who were moments ago their brothers-in-arms charging at them, these men did not know how to react.

Even the officers froze momentarily, unsure whether they should issue the order to fire upon their former comrades. All eyes turned toward the battlements above Weihai City, the supreme command center for this battle, awaiting orders from above.

Murong Tian, standing rigidly on the wall, had an ashen face. But as a seasoned veteran, he understood the terrible consequences of allowing these puppet soldiers to penetrate the allied camp. That path would lead to countless more deaths, and those dead would, in turn, become Nether puppets, creating a snowballing army that would soon be impossible to control.

He leaped...