Zheng Zha lay scorched black on the ground. For an ordinary person, an injury like this would have meant instant death; he suffered over ninety-five percent full-thickness burns, and one of his eyes was blinded. He resembled half-burnt charcoal more than a human, teetering on the absolute edge of death.

Yet, within this state, a cataclysmic change was occurring beneath his charred skin. Using the optimized gene blueprint gained from this battle as the foundation, fueled by internal energy and the power of the Blood Race, augmented by the Dragon Gene, and centered around the most potent ancient gene within him, his flesh and blood were being rapidly reconstructed. Of course, his still-lucid consciousness understood that this physical form could only be sustained when he utilized the state of unlocking the fourth level of the Genetic Lock, as the energy demands for this body were astronomical. Unless he reached the fifth level, he would be unable to maintain such an energy drain… (Not dead… I’m actually still alive…) Zheng Zha sighed deeply, despite the agonizing pain that wracked his entire body.

But he immediately recalled the preceding events. At the very moment he was about to be incinerated, Luo Yinglong had been ambushed—an attack that instantaneously shattered his golden protective barrier.

Furthermore, the state in which Luo Yinglong died was exceedingly suspicious: his entire body had rapidly disintegrated into dust. Zheng Zha had witnessed this phenomenon before… it was Zero Point’s utterly unique sniping capability, the Dot-Line Demon Eye! Regardless of the magical artifact the opponent possessed or how formidable they were, as long as the line of destructive trace was found, the Gauss sniper rifle could utterly annihilate it. And the immense gunshot he had heard moments ago was clearly the sound of a Gauss sniper rifle.

(It really was Zero Point… Where is he? Why would he show up here at this time? Could it be… Chu Xuan?) This was the only line of thought Zheng Zha could pursue. Though he couldn't be entirely certain, his intuition screamed that the only person capable of orchestrating this was Chu Xuan! And only he would allow a teammate to be used as bait,

while he himself placed everything into the grand scheme from the rear.

(No matter what, I’m safe for now. As long as Zero Point doesn’t continuously use the Dot-Line Demon Eye, there shouldn't be any major issues. And that Luo Yinglong is dead. There’s only that Caucasian woman left; she probably won’t dare show her face again, right? Otherwise, Zero Point’s sniper rifle isn’t just for decoration…) Zheng Zha let out a breath, but before he could fully recover his composure,

he suddenly saw several arrows embed themselves near him. Though none struck him directly, the sight still sent jolts of pain through his body. He had forgotten the environment they were in: a battlefield. Even without the threat of the Heavenly God Squad, these Orcs were hardly benevolent souls. If he still retained combat strength, he wouldn't fear them; even if he couldn't slaughter them all, escaping would have been no issue. But his current condition seemed particularly dire… He was lying directly in the path the Orcs must take to advance on the city walls. In other words,

being utterly unable to move even a single finger, his death seemed all but certain.

(No way? I’d rather die from a cultivator’s attack than these Orcs… Cultivation techniques are truly terrifying…) Zheng Zha could only watch the Orcs approach. Those initial arrows were clearly tests to gauge whether he still possessed fighting capability. Seeing that he remained a scorched black lump, the Orcs began to cautiously close the distance. No further shots rang out from Zero Point, suggesting that the previous use of the Dot-Line Demon Eye had rendered him unconscious. The Orcs drew nearer and nearer, now only ten meters or so from Zheng Zha.

(How ironic, to die such a ridiculous death… I’m still going to die.) Zheng Zha was about five or six hundred meters from the city wall. While this was relatively close, the soldiers on the walls were already struggling to defend; how could they possibly send aid? Zheng Zha could only close his eyes in resignation. But just then, a clear, resonant horn blast suddenly echoed from the distance. The sound rose and fell in waves afar, instantly drawing the attention of every Orc. They paid no mind to the charcoal-like humanoid figure and instead rushed outwards toward the sound.

On the horizon of the battlefield, a warhorse emerged at a measured trot. Upon its back sat a valiant, middle-aged man clad in full armor. As he spurred his steed forward, he frowned at the countless Orcs before him. Despite the long siege and the combined impact of Zheng Zha’s charge and Luo Yinglong’s exploding artifact, there were still over eighty thousand Orcs present.

The middle-aged man took a deep breath, then swept his hand behind him. An innumerable host of cavalry surged forth. These were the true elite shock troops, heavily armored knights bearing long spears, with their horses also draped in heavy barding—protected entirely except for their eyes. One by one, these elite heavy riders appeared, momentarily filling a vast stretch of the horizon; it was impossible to count how many there were.

“Éomer, take your company and strike the left flank!” “Gamling, follow closely behind me!” “Gamerd, break through the human wall and attack the right flank!” This middle-aged man was Théoden, the King of Rohan. He shouted loudly to several commanders standing near him. Once these commanders received their orders and departed, he turned to face the vast cavalry behind him and roared.

“Follow me! Riders of Théoden! Sharpen your spears on the bones of your enemies! Smash your shields with their skulls! Facing the rising sun… let us annihilate every foe before us!” As he finished speaking, all the cavalry raised their long spears aloft. He drew his own longsword and dragged the blade along the shafts as he began to run, yelling as he went: “Charge! Bring them death!” “Death! Death… Death!” Théoden roared the same word repeatedly, and the bloodthirsty shouts of the cavalry behind him rose in unison. When everyone had roared the word out, Théoden finally bellowed: “Charge, sons of Éothéod!” With that final cry, he was the first to spur his horse toward the enemy lines.

What a sight it was—the terrifying momentum of ten thousand hooves pounding the earth. The sound of their hooves gradually merged into a single, vast, booming resonance. Although this iron cavalry unit numbered only about five thousand, the sheer aura generated by their charge was overwhelming, causing some Orcs to look around in dismay.

The Orcs lacked the physique of the Uruk-hai and therefore could not wield the long, several-meter lances. Facing the charge of the heavy cavalry, they could only brace their own spears, barely over a meter long, in front of them, while the archers behind loosed a rain of arrows.

These cavalrymen were clad in thick, full-body heavy plate armor; ordinary arrows simply bounced off their bodies. Only the specialized explosive arrows managed to knock a rider from his saddle, but explosive arrows were few, and the cavalry moved with incredible speed. By the time a few hundred riders were unseated, the distance between the two forces had closed to barely ten meters.

The Orcs felt like an iron wall bearing down on them. The first line of defense scarcely understood what had happened before they were trampled flat. Then, they were crushed beneath the subsequent waves of cavalry, instantly reduced to pulp. The charging cavalry ahead cared for nothing, continuing to smash straight through, unstoppable by any creature—not even the Trolls. The towering Trolls, several meters high, could at best stop a single warhorse's impact; the sheer force still sent them flying several meters back, only to be immediately trampled into paste by the following riders. Despite numbering only five thousand, the combat power displayed was like the sharp edge of a blade, easily slicing into the vastly larger Orc legion. Gradually, the Orc army began to collapse. Under the relentless charge of the heavy cavalry, over thirty thousand Orcs were either trampled or killed! Théoden fought with extraordinary valor; his shining Battle Aura erupted continuously, shattering any Orc, Uruk, or Troll that collided with him into fragments. His spear impaled countless enemies. Centered on him, the cavalry unit drove fiercely toward the heart of the Orc formation. The power of this cavalry far surpassed that of the Orc army.

Just as everyone believed the cavalry force was about to achieve victory, the ground suddenly began to shake—an extremely violent tremor. Then, everyone heard a strange set of horns. Ten seconds later, everyone saw colossal figures slowly marching onto the scene from the flank battlefield. Yes, these were giant elephants, towering dozens of meters high. Their size surpassed that of elephants in the real world by far, and there were over a hundred of them, significantly more than in the original movie plot… Zheng Zha couldn't help but feel a bitter smile forming; he had actually thought he might survive on this battlefield, only to see these elephants appear. More unfortunately, he was directly in their path. Over a hundred elephants—even with incredible luck, he would be trampled to death… It was said that elephants moved slowly, but that was relative to their size. In reality, given their bulk, their speed was comparable to that of the heavy cavalry. Zheng Zha watched one elephant step directly toward him; in a few more paces, he would be turned into paste…

“BOOM!” A massive stone projectile hurtled forward, striking the elephant’s body directly. Although the stone was not large enough to topple the beast, it was enough to send the elephant stumbling. Zheng Zha cast a glance in that direction and saw hundreds of Tree-Men, each over ten meters tall, emerging from the nearby forest…