The outliers.
No one knew exactly why they hated or attacked humans. Some said it was for food, others for the thrill of the hunt, and some believed it was fear—fear of what humanity could become. But judging by the expressions on the faces of the outliers currently storming the battlefield, it looked like they simply enjoyed the violence.
Especially the Nomands and Barbarians.
These were races of humanoid creatures originating from the fifth continent. They were said to be cast away from their way, and their only other direction was south, leading directly to Solaris.
The Nomands were a race that resembled humans in terms of appearance, and that was where the resemblance ended. Their skin had a rough shade of blue that looked like expired rock, and instead of two, they had four arms.
Their strength varied according to their height, and the shortest among them easily towered over a grown man.
The only reason known for being cast away was for their inherent characteristics. They were lustful in nature.
In that regard, they preferred other races to their own.
However, in the absence of other species, they turned on themselves. Their urges were so depraved, it wasn't rare for them to assault their own kind—siblings, elderly, males—it didn't matter.
If caught on the battlefield by a Nomand, it wasn't uncommon to become a victim of rape. Their having four arms only made matters worse. They were such creatures.
Then there was the other race, the Barbarians.
Also humanoid in stature, but once again, that was where the similarity stopped.
They weren't as large as the nomads in height, but they were on average taller and better built. Their bodies seemed to be chiseled naturally and sculpted rather than a natural occurrence. Their skin was deep crimson, as if they constantly dipped themselves in blood. Their bodies were covered in black tribal tattoos that glowed faintly whenever they went into battle.
Their natural physical strength and ability to resist the cold added a touch to their abilities. Each tattoo on a barbarian represented a win, meaning the more they had, the stronger they were.
And what were they known for? Their love for battle.
Unlike the nomads, there was the conclusion that this race willingly left the fifth continent just to seek more battle. Naturally, they were known for their love of battle.
It was known that the Barbarians could have easily breached the front long ago, but they never did.
It was as if they didn't want conquest. No, what they wanted was war. Constant and unending war.
They occasionally sent small waves of warriors just to release pent-up stress. They even waited between assaults, giving the humans time to rebuild and regroup, just to fight again.
The two races were known for their different attributes and traits.
In several instances when the barbarians met the nomads or other races on their way to attack the front, they attacked them before resuming their attack.
But this...this was different.
These two tribes, known to crave different things, want different things, and despise each other, were now fighting together.
That wasn't all.
They were attacking with overwhelming numbers and coordinated fury.
A tribe of lustful creatures and a tribe of battle-craving warriors. The combination wasn't palatable for any army.
Thankfully, the army was able to bridge this gap, albeit a bit.
On horseback, they had the momentum of direction, and with several of them moving together, it was an unstoppable momentum.
The snow-filled battlefield rumbled as the hoofs of the war horses stomped heavily on it. The snow of the battlefield would usually slow down the movements of the horses; however, it was like it were flat ground. Rather, the snow seemed to melt under their stomps.
Then the burning lances of thousands of soldiers stretched and pointed out in a flaming arrow formation, towards the enemy. The army charged, without fear of numbers, height, or strength.
The effect was catastrophic against the outliers.
Truly deserving its name, the flaming arrow formation carved out a large chunk of the massive swath of outliers through the center.
The attack was fierce, swift, and powerful.
The fire from the lances of the soldiers torched the bodies of the outliers on their way to their deaths. And in the slight chance, they somehow survived through a lance, another lance behind was covering up their back.
The horses were never bothered by the corpses along their path. It moved regardless.
The attacks stacked up, and fire stacked itself to deliver more powerful attacks. And because of that, even the 5 stars among the outliers found themselves dying at the hands of 4 stars in the army.
However, their effort almost seemed vain as more outliers instantly filled up the empty spaces.
Since the army took on a flaming arrow formation, the outliers just were around it. Their blatant disregard for their lives could demoralize any army.
No matter how powerful the formation seemed to be, or how many outliers died, they didn't seem to care. They rushed in regardless.
Normally, the army would be bothered about this issue, but not today.
Today, thankfully, they weren't alone.
RAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR—
The roars of dragons echoed across the air, and their massive shadows swept over the vanguard like guardian angels. The riders of these dragons commanded, and the dragons spewed fire from their maws, focusing on the outskirts of the flaming formation.
The crimson flame from their maw, together with the burning flames from the army's formation, only increased the heat intensity, burning weaker outliers with just the heat.
And the vanguard didn't stop.
Their job wasn't to stop.
Mounted for momentum, they pierced through the fire and bodies.
In battles against the outliers, the recruits were mostly stationed at the far rear of the formation.
Aside from taking care of the stray enemies who had luckily slipped through the formation, their job was to get accustomed to the battlefield.
Theory was always going to be different from practice, due to the factor called the variable.
On the battlefield, anything could happen.
It could very well be a situation on something they had already been drilled on, but could they overcome the fear of the reality of battle?
Their role was to watch and learn from the battlefield.
The formation had done its duty in taking the full brunt of the attack, and as a result, almost no enemy reached the rear where the recruits were.
Normally, it was a good thing. It meant the recruits didn't have to enter a state of panic so soon. But, as the leader of such a group, Baines couldn't help but feel different.
He came here to fight, not watch and learn.
After all his training, it was finally time to display everything he had learned. Still, he wasn't just going to stray away from the formation just to satisfy his desires.
With the number of outliers on this battlefield, he was certain a chance would appear.
"AHHHHHHH!"
A scream echoed towards the left flank from the recruits' line.
'There,'
Without hesitation, he slightly geared his warhorse to the source of the scream.
The other recruits he led didn't stop for him. They knew what to do, and that was keep moving forward.
Baines spotted his first enemy. A 4-star nomand.