Henry Clark analyzed the battle situation for the half-asleep David Thompson: “Currently, the demon clan’s defeated army still has over fifty thousand troops, and among them are extremely powerful armored beasts. Just now, their attack almost overwhelmed us—we have no idea why they suddenly retreated, and in such a disorganized manner. None of us deputy flag officers in command can decide whether we should pursue. Please give your instructions, sir.”

David Thompson sleepily asked, “Is there anyone who wants to pursue?”

Henry Clark: “Deputy flag officer Roger Smith, he strongly advocates for pursuit.”

David Thompson: “Then let him go after them.”

“Flag officer, sir!” Henry Clark said, both angry and anxious, “I understand your feelings toward Roger Smith, that braggart who hasn’t done a single good thing since becoming deputy flag officer. In fact, I feel the same way. But the five thousand Far East Army officers and soldiers under Roger Smith are innocent—there’s no need for them to die with him, is there?”

“Oh, how can you think that way about your superior, Deputy Flag Officer Clark?” David Thompson’s eyes gleamed slyly, the very look of someone whose thoughts have been seen through. “Let him go, it’ll be fine.”

“But the enemy has fifty to sixty thousand, while Roger Smith’s force is less than five thousand.”

“Henry Clark, think about it, Roger Smith’s troops are cavalry, much more mobile than those hulking demons—if they can’t win, at least they can run, right?”

“But you know as well as I do, sir, that Roger Smith never uses his brain when he charges. What if he does something stupid…”

“Don’t worry, I’ve made all the necessary preparations!”

Facing Henry Clark’s doubtful gaze, David Thompson pulled out a promotional flyer from the tent, which read: Imperial Capital Funeral Home, June 1st to August 30th, 40% off, welcome!

“I’ve calculated it—if Roger Smith dies today, he’ll still make the discount period. Besides, I know the owner well; maybe he won’t even charge us for the urns…”

Fuming, Henry Clark rode back to the front lines, where the other two deputy flag officers looked at her inquiringly.

“Lord Thompson has ordered you, Deputy Flag Officer Smith, to attack!”

Roger Smith cheered, “Hooray!” He turned and shouted to his men, “Follow me!” and galloped off.

Five thousand black-clad cavalry formed up in neat ranks behind him, charging down the hillside at full speed, hooves thundering, echoing with shouts of “Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!” The whole formation was like a giant black dragon, unstoppable as it swept down toward the retreating demon army.

“That idiot! So happy to go die!” Henry Clark cursed bitterly.

“Not necessarily going to die,” said staff deputy flag officer Ethan Foster. “The demon side is in chaos. We don’t know what happened over there—maybe Roger Smith will actually succeed.”

Henry Clark: “What could have happened over there?”

Ethan Foster: “We don’t know, but maybe the commander does. Every time the commander sends Roger Smith out, it’s like saying, ‘No need to think anymore, just charge ahead.’ We’ll win—I have faith in the commander.”

Henry Clark snorted twice, thinking, “That’s because you didn’t see him snoring away behind the hill, always ready to run for his life.”

The reason she didn’t say it aloud was for fear of shaking morale, and also because…

At that moment, an unbelievable change occurred on the battlefield: Roger Smith’s cavalry charged straight down, almost instantly piercing into the heart of the demon camp, as easily as a red-hot fork into cheese. The demon soldiers barely resisted before scattering in all directions, abandoning armor and fleeing in disarray. Fifty thousand demon troops were routed by less than a tenth their number of humans—such a thing had never happened in history!

The two deputy flag officers exclaimed in unison, “Huh!”

Ethan Foster shouted, “This is too abnormal—it’s a trap! Roger Smith is already surrounded!”

Henry Clark also shouted, “It can’t be a trap, look how panicked their soldiers are—you can’t fake that! Even if it is a trap, there’s still a great chance!”

Henry Clark turned and shouted, “All troops! Advance!”

Ethan Foster tried to stop her: “You don’t have the authority to order a full mobilization—only the commander does!”

Henry Clark punched Ethan Foster off his horse, pressed a saber to his neck, and said in a low voice, “If you make us miss the opportunity, I’ll kill you!” She swept a glance at the stunned guards and messengers around, then raised her voice: “What are you waiting for? Relay the order!”

“Hoo-hoo!” Bugles sounded from all directions as the cavalry assembled, forming line after line of skirmishers.

At the very front of the cavalry, Henry Clark calmly raised her right hand, motionless like a statue. Suddenly, she thrust her raised hand forward, and a thunderous roar erupted behind her: “Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!”

Line after line of cavalry swept past her, starting at a trot, accelerating bit by bit, until the whole formation charged down the mountain toward the demon camp at astonishing speed, like a flood overwhelming everything, pouring down the hillsides with unstoppable momentum!

Ahead, the demon formation was now less than a thousand meters away, when a clear shout rang out: “Draw swords!” Twenty thousand sabers flashed from their scabbards in unison, forming an uneven band of light that reflected the last rays of the setting sun, as the battle cries shook the heavens…