In the mud, scattered across the dark, swampy land, stood rows of crude wooden huts of varying sizes. Towering among them were the fishmen—black-skinned, big-headed creatures standing ankle-deep in muck. They snarled and shrieked, making loud, provocative noises at the army watching from outside the marsh.
"This ground's going to be trouble," Lin Ye said, frowning as he surveyed the terrain.
This muddy swamp was the fishmen's home turf, but it was far from ideal for conventional warfare. Especially for cavalry units—charging in could mean getting bogged down, immobilized in the thick sludge.
"Then we won't go in. Simple," Fang Xingchen said with a grin. "We'll just shoot them down with arrows and lob fireballs from here. I don't believe they won't come crawling out eventually."
"Good idea," Zhang Kexin said, nodding in agreement.
"It'll take some time, but what we have most right now is time," Mo Kongwu added, his voice steady.
The two most powerful among them remained silent for a moment, clearly thinking. But even they couldn't come up with a better plan on the spot.
Then, without warning, the elven archer stepped forward, his face calm. He drew his bow in a smooth, practiced motion. Arrows flew in three waves, fast and precise, slicing through the air like death itself.
A sudden rain of arrows fell from the sky.
The fishmen, having never encountered a force of this magnitude, stood frozen in stunned disbelief. They had heard the goblins' fearful whispers, but no story could compare to the terrifying truth of firsthand experience.
The elf's powerful draw gave each arrow monstrous penetration. They struck with bone-splitting force.
Several fishmen dropped instantly, their heads pierced clean through, their bodies collapsing into the sludge. Blood gushed into the mud, turning it a thick, sinister red.
The rest of the fishmen panicked. Cries of fear erupted as they turned and scattered, fleeing in all directions like startled prey.
"Fireball," came a calm command.
This time, the Salamander Priest didn't summon a massive, singular blaze. Instead, he conjured thousands of basketball-sized fireballs that shimmered and flared, casting dancing reflections over the wetland.
The temperature spiked, the air itself warping from the sudden heat.
"Release!"
At that shout, the fireballs launched.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Explosions thundered across the battlefield. Flames roared to life, spreading fast, turning the mucky swamp into a blazing hellscape.
Screams of agony rose into the air as fishmen thrashed and burned, their shrieks echoing across the battlefield.
Lin Ye watched the fiery chaos unfold. Despite witnessing the Salamander Priest Corps in action before, he couldn't hide his awe.
"Every time I see it, I'm shocked all over again," he said. "How did you manage to gather so many magic priests? This is insane!"
The Fire Lizard Priests weren't exceptionally strong in one-on-one combat. In a direct fight, even Lin Ye's Warriors of Light could overpower them.
But when it came to mass clearing enemy forces? The Warriors of Light didn't even come close.
For a warrior to clear mobs at this level, they'd need to be at least fourth tier and have access to external power sources. Magicians, though, only needed their cultivation.
One fireball might not be enough. Ten might still fall short. But when thousands descended together, the destruction rivaled modern-day artillery bombardments.
Fang Xingchen smiled, puffing up with pride. "Racial traits. The Salamander Tribe has a complete priest heritage, and their sacrifices match perfectly with my priesthood."
After developing them for a while, he had formed the elite Fire Lizard Priest Corps. When he first explored this plane alone, they were his greatest weapon.
He fought in bursts. Hit hard, retreat, recover, and strike again.
Most monster tribes couldn't withstand such relentless attrition.
Now, with the archers and lizard priests working together, the fishmen were completely overwhelmed. They tried to retreat deeper into the mud, but it was no use.
Lin Ye began pressing the advance slowly and methodically. Infantry led the way, followed by the lizard priests and elven archers. The combined force pushed forward, step by step, like an unstoppable tide.
The swamp was vast, but not endless. Eventually, they would force a final confrontation. The fishmen would either stand and fight, or be picked off one by one until none remained.
And if they couldn't win in open battle, retreat was no better. It would only delay the inevitable.
Suddenly, the skies darkened with motion.
Two massive winged beasts—each with a wingspan stretching dozens of meters—dove from above.
Tornadoes roared behind them, slicing through the air with lethal wind currents. The vortexes swept through the battlefield, lifting screaming fishmen into the air, where they were ripped apart and shredded into bloody mist.
"Brother Xingyu, how did you train those magical beasts? That's insane!" Zhang Kexin shouted, watching the two Sky-Splitting Eagles circle overhead before diving for another attack.
"Just luck," Su Xingyu replied with a small chuckle.
Fang Xingchen glanced over at Zhang Kexin and then turned to Mo Kongwu. "Brother Wu, are you interested in these fishmen? You're an orc, right? Fishmen should technically count as orcs too."
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Mo Kongwu blinked in confusion. "Technically, yeah. But they seem pretty useless. Not much point in taking them back. Also, I'm way older than you. You should be calling me uncle."
"That's fine," Fang Xingchen said with a carefree wave. "As long as we don't get ourselves killed, we'll live practically forever. A few dozen years difference now doesn't matter. After a few centuries, we'll all be equals."
Mo Kongwu could only shake his head silently.
"So, do you want to take some of these fishmen back?" Fang Xingchen added. "They don't have to fight on land. We could use them as underwater units. Toss them in the moat and see who dares attack us then, right?"
Mo Kongwu, initially ready to refuse, paused and rubbed his chin. "Now that you say it like that... it actually makes a lot of sense."
Fang Xingchen stared, speechless. "Wait, you're seriously considering it?"
He was half-joking, but now his senior looked deep in thought. This was starting to get absurd.
Just then, Su Xingyu spoke thoughtfully, stroking his chin. "Actually, we don't have to keep them in the moat. What if we used them in the sewer system? If they can survive in this kind of filth, they probably don't need a clean environment. They could handle drainage and waste removal. Wouldn't that be useful?"
As he said it, even Su Xingyu seemed to be convincing himself. With the tribe's population growing fast, infrastructure was starting to crack. Clogged sewers were already becoming an issue.
Why not train some fishmen as maintenance workers? It was more practical than building an entirely new drainage system.
Fang Xingchen stared around the group, his voice rising. "Wait. You guys are seriously going through with this?"
Lin Ye joined in. "It could work in theory. Just make sure your tribesmen accept it. And your environment's suitable for them, too."
While they debated the fate of the fishmen, the battle wound down.
With the coordinated assault of archers and lizard priests, the fishmen's morale broke completely. A few final counterattacks were attempted, but they were easily held back by the infantry at the front lines.
Arrows and fireballs rained down with relentless precision, draining all hope from the fishmen's eyes.
When the coalition offered them a chance to surrender, they hesitated only briefly.
Then they dropped their weapons.
They weren't as cowardly as the goblins, but they weren't suicidal either. Against a force like this, surrender was their only option.
And with that, the last of the three vassal tribes under the Kobolds had fallen.