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The Saint Ice Thorn Aura, derived from his self-created "Holy Grail Battle Aura," was almost the foundational ability of Chen Xuanfeng's rise to power. Meanwhile, the Magic Aura, obtained through the sacrifice of hundreds of faithful light-worshippers, had shone brilliantly in the wars of previous years. Though these past feats paled in comparison to the power he wielded today, Chen Xuanfeng himself had not forgotten these abilities. Now, under the premise of avoiding large-scale slaughter, these abilities became his best choice. And if the opposing Orc Sword Emperor resorted to destructive magical forces before Chen Xuanfeng unleashed his killing intent, it would give him ample justification to thoroughly crush the rule-breaking challenger.

As expected, the Wolf Riders, enhanced by the Magic Aura, saw their speed skyrocket, transforming into a pale steel tide. Each rider avoided prolonged engagements, slashing only once as they blurred past foes. Originally faster than galloping horses, their charge now streaked like lightning, leaving Lion Clan warriors struck multiple times in an instant. Those unable to project their combat energy were instantly bowled over, while even the strongest warriors could only hold their ground, unable to form cohesive formations. Normally, the Lion Clan’s combat prowess would never allow such humiliation, but with Chen Xuanfeng leading the charge—his Saint Ice Thorn Aura and the phantom beast Nine-Headed Dragon’s combined assault—their battle lines were thrown into chaos, giving the Wolf Riders ample opportunity to exploit the disarray.

However, the Splitfang family was a true noble house. Even if their heritage wasn’t the richest, their accumulation of military talent was undeniably vast. Their strategists had simulated countless scenarios involving Chen Xuanfeng, and the current situation was well within their expectations. Previously, they had feared his Saint-level power the most, but now that he clearly adhered to the unspoken rules—refraining from unleashing his most lethal weapons—they could proceed with their next tactical move.

"ROOOOAR—"

With earth-shaking bellows, the Orc Empire’s true war machines, the Beamon, finally took the field.

These silver-gray behemoths, standing over ten meters tall and weighing more than thirty tons, were formally known as "Cloudpeak Terrorclaw Ursabeasts." Natural-born Tier-10 earth-element magical beasts, their hides were thicker than steel fortifications, their strength enough to rend mountains, and their three-meter-long claws capable of slicing through dragon scales with ease. Whether in siege warfare or battlefield charges, they were ultimate war engines.

"Tch, those fools from the Bear Tribe!" Chen Xuanfeng couldn’t help but curse inwardly at the sight of the towering beasts.

By nature, Beamon belonged to the bear lineage, and according to orc tradition, they should have been under the Bear Tribe’s control. Unfortunately, the previous Orc King, Samanda, had been far too domineering. Through two decades of coercion and persuasion, he had wrested control of six out of the seven mightiest War Beamon, leaving only one permanently stationed at the Temple of War. Thus, while the Bear Tribe still maintained a Beamon Corps—comprising Tier-9 Blackstone Beamon and Tier-8 Sandgrit Beamon—everyone knew the true elite had long been seized by the Lion Clan.

Hence Chen Xuanfeng’s muttered curse. Still, he wasn’t caught off guard. With a wave of his hand, the homunculus maiden Youlijia at the rear responded, the three crimson crystals on her body glowing as three massive Crystal Dragons materialized, striding across the battlefield to intercept three of the Beamon. Simultaneously, a black crystalline bone dragon swooped down from the sky, engaging another. The "Ice Valkyrie" Zha and Jin Luosa’s summoned legendary-tier light-element phantom beast, "Holy Angel Sijaraite," each tangled with a War Beamon, locking the titanic creatures in fierce combat. Chen Xuanfeng had initially considered calling down the six-winged Demon Dragon Dongye to join the fray, but then two more golden super-tier magical beasts emerged from the Lion Clan’s ranks—winged, lion-bodied, human-faced creatures over ten meters long: the Tier-10 metal-element "Sphinxes," the Lion Clan’s own tamed beasts. With the two Sphinxes working in tandem, even the six-winged Demon Dragon was momentarily pinned.

The aerial battle aside, the clash of super-tier beasts on the ground largely achieved the Lion Clan’s desired effect. Though the six War Beamon failed to gain the upper hand, their mountainous brawling turned hundreds of meters around them into lethal exclusion zones. Whether Wolf Riders or Lion and Leopard Clan warriors, anyone who ventured too close risked being crushed to paste.

Thus, the entire battlefield fractured into bedlam.

The super-tier beasts’ combat radius was vast and constantly shifting, forcing other troops to scatter and evade, disrupting unified coordination. This had little impact on the Lion Clan, which lacked a cohesive command structure, but it spelled disaster for the Wolf Clan warriors who needed to rally behind Chen Xuanfeng. Once they lost pace with his advance, their fragmented forces stood no chance against the Lion Clan’s unmatched one-on-one fighting skill—especially now that the Leopard Clan had closed in from both flanks and the Tiger Clan was slowly advancing from the rear, ready to join the fray.

Faced with this situation, Chen Xuanfeng had no intention of forcibly breaking through with overwhelming force. Though he could easily slay all six War Beamon with his divine weapons if he truly exerted himself, he refused to do so. Unlike the Warcraft Orcs, whose loyalty was uncertain, these War Beamon were assets that could be secured outright with victory.

"Very well. Though I can no longer disrupt the Lion Clan’s formations, we’ve bought enough time."

With that thought, Chen Xuanfeng let out a long whistle. The Wolf Riders immediately obeyed, wheeling about in disciplined retreat. Thanks to the Magic Aura’s triple-speed boost, the maneuver was executed with startling swiftness. Before the Lion Clan could organize interception or pursuit, the entire Wolf Rider force had vanished from the battlefield.

When their gaze turned to Chen Xuanfeng’s main formation, what lay before them was a mystical battle formation—a perfect octagon nearly a kilometer in diameter, composed of trenches, earthen walls, and ten thousand Minos Bull Tribe totem poles. The Minos warriors, red-skinned half-orcs, and retreating Wolf Riders were all arranged in an arcane configuration within the formation, their figures flickering indistinctly, impossible to pin down.

This battle formation had been constructed in the brief span of the earlier clash. Though the Lion Clan had prepared for many contingencies, they hadn’t anticipated Chen Xuanfeng secretly embedding thousands of captured marmot-engineer prisoners among his troops. These siege engineers, capable of erecting defenses mid-battle, were the key to swiftly assembling this formation.

And though this formation was virtually unknown on this continent, in Chen Xuanfeng’s past life in the Central Plains, it bore a name that shook the heavens—