School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 93 --The Legendary Force, Ambition Army

The dozen cavalrymen, in unison, turned smoothly and precisely, a testament to their status as the elite of the elite.

Time seemed to freeze in that moment, where not being able to breathe felt inconsequential.

The ghost squad remained motionless, and the sea race warriors didn’t dare even blink.

In this bizarre standoff, their hearts pounded wildly, threatening to leap out of their chests.

Stanbeck’s eyelids twitched as he noticed several sea race members trembling.

He almost hissed through clenched teeth, "Don’t—move—"

Immediately after, the commander of the Ambition Army, without a moment’s hesitation, spurred his horse forward.

The steed’s hooves pounded the ground as it charged straight ahead, followed closely by the dozen cavalrymen.

Though merely ghosts, the sound of their galloping hooves was like thunder, their killing aura tangible, exuding the momentum of a vast army.

The ground itself seemed to tremble beneath them.

Owen distinctly saw the commander’s spear tip slightly raised, gleaming coldly.

"Scatter, everyone scatter! They’ve seen us," Owen called out, not for himself but fearing that Finn and the others, frozen in terror, wouldn’t move.

He shouted a warning and pushed Finn, Erin, and others behind Quincy.

At this stage, the only one he could trust was Quincy.

With only a five-meter distance separating them, and the added momentum of their mounts, it took but a blink of an eye for the Ambition Army squadron to close in.

Owen could even hear the ghostly horses’ snorting breaths.

So realistic, he thought, even in this perilous situation, this idea couldn’t help but flash through Owen’s mind.

Quincy had no time to reproach Owen; he swiftly grabbed a seaturtle race warrior. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"Retract your head," he bellowed.

Without hesitation, the warrior pulled his limbs into his shell.

Quincy used the seaturtle race warrior as a shield, channeling arcanergy through his body.

"Respectable indeed, to think of using a seaturtle race as a shield," Finn couldn’t help but remark sarcastically from the side.

In the urgency of the moment, no one paid attention to Finn’s comment.

The seaturtle warrior’s shell radiated a green glow.

Owen frowned, surprised: "Can Quincy really block the intangible attacks of ghosts?"

The magic he and Quincy had used before was an external expression of mind power, hence their ability to eradicate ghosts.

But now, Quincy was apparently using a physical object to block a ghost’s attack.

This was quite rare.

Quincy was ready, and the commander’s long spear had already struck the seaturtle’s shell.

The impact sent them flying seven meters away, barely stopping.

Owen’s pupils constricted sharply:

"Such force, it exceeds master-tier."

But no.

Owen quickly revised his theory. He noticed an invisible thread connecting the commander’s weapon to the dozen or so cavalrymen behind him.

He suddenly thought of the military array.

Chrisman’s paladin guards had made a name for themselves on the frontier using a military array.

Military arrays were extremely rare. Any race capable of developing one would be esteemed by the advanced races.

How could the legendary Ambition Army not possess a military array?

Owen breathed a sigh of relief.

"The commander hasn’t exceeded master-tier in strength; it’s the military array that’s amplifying his power."

Although Quincy had blocked the first strike, he couldn’t be everywhere at once, leaving other members of the sea race vulnerable.

As the ghost squadron of the Ambition Army infiltrated the ranks of the sea race, it was like wolves among sheep.

They couldn’t land a blow on the ghosts of the Ambition Army, yet the ghosts could strike directly at their souls.

This was inherently an unfair battle, a one-sided slaughter.

Unsurprisingly, everyone scattered in all directions.

Only Owen and his group remained calm.

He extended a holy light shelter, standing at a distance with his arms folded across his chest, silently observing the chaos.

Finn, from nowhere, produced some dried fruit and offered it around.

"Have some, don’t starve yourselves."

The members of the sea race glared at Owen’s group, eyes blazing with fury.

While they were in dire straits, Owen and his companions were leisurely enjoying themselves.

Damn it all...

Stanbeck, already simmering with rage, engaged in full battle mode when the Ambition Army attacked.

He valiantly held his own against the commander of the Ambition Army.

"This Neptune race guy’s got some skills," Finn crunched on the dried fruit, commenting casually.

Morton, tossing some fruit into his mouth, simply agreed:

"Well, he is of the Neptune race, with the pure bloodline of the sea god. How could he not be strong?"

Owen and his companions heatedly discussed the unfolding situation on the battlefield.

Meanwhile, the commander of the Ambition Army tilted his head, observing the sea race members writhing and screaming on the ground.

"No way, he’s actually thinking," Finn’s hand, holding the dried fruit, stiffened – not a good sign.

"It seems so. I hope these sea race members won’t all be killed," Morton also began to express concern.

Indeed, as the leader of the Ambition Army squadron waved his hand, the formation of the ghost squad behind him changed accordingly.

In Owen’s eyes, the formation of the Ambition Army’s squad shifted, and the aura of the commander varied intensely – at times sharp as a blade, at others, blunt and heavy.

After altering their formation seven times, the commander finally ceased.

Owen’s heart skipped a beat:

"The Ambition Army possesses seven types of military arrays... Each one powerful enough to shake the Kingdom of Laine. No wonder they could withstand the abyssal creatures for thirty years."

Fearing the worst, it happened.

The commander of the Ambition Army shook the reins, and the demonic steed charged towards them once again.

However, as they neared the well, the commander pressed his arm down, dipping the spear tip into the water.

This time, Stanbeck barely managed to block the assault.

Yet, he was at his limit, his arms trembling, and even the base of his palms split open, oozing blood.

Unexpectedly, the commander spurred his horse again, charging past the side of the sea race warriors.

With a flick of his spear, swiftly striking out like a dragonfly skimming water or a flash of lightning.

A shark race warrior standing at the forefront was slashed across the head by the spear tip.

His massive shark head fell to the ground with a dull thud.

The splattered blood brought the sea race warriors back to their senses, leaving them dazed.

Aren’t ghosts only able to attack the soul, incapable of inflicting physical harm?

Owen, discerning the mystery, rotated his eyes and said: "It can attack physically because of the water in the well."

As long as the ghosts touch the water from the well, they can inflict physical attacks.

Owen gave Finn a knowing look, and Finn responded with a mischievous grin.

He quickly removed his clothing, dipped it into the well, wrung it out, and then, with all his might, flung the soaking garment towards the sea race warriors.

Droplets of water landed on the sea race members.

Finn also shouted encouragingly:

"Warriors, charge!"

The sea race warriors, filled with indignation, now had no time to concern themselves with Owen and his group.

The ghost squadron of the Ambition Army was their true enemy.

The pent-up fury in their hearts was now unleashed.

These sea race warriors, all master-tier, burst forth with strength that was by no means inferior to the Ambition Army.

"Clang!" Swords clashed with spears, metal rang against metal.

The spirit of the sea race warriors soared – their attacks were effective, and they no longer had to suffer one-sided stabs and thrusts.

Finn, seemingly out of nowhere, produced a bottle of fruit wine, sipping it and laughing: "Mr. Owen truly has a keen eye, spotting the key in the midst of chaos and helping the sea race turn the tables."

Morton, also smiling, added: "Indeed, those sea race warriors might be bleeding, but they owe our group their thanks."

Owen didn’t respond, intently watching the battle between the Ambition Army and the sea race.

The battlefield was a whirl of blood and flesh, a testament to why military conflicts are often likened to meat grinders.

In just a few blinks, the leader of the Ambition Army had already slain two sea race warriors and assisted in killing another, with even a formidable warrior like Stanbeck unable to get close.

This is the power of a military array, Owen reflected.

Although the members of the Ambition Army’s squadron kept changing positions, their connection with the commander remained unbroken, constantly contributing power to him.

"Mr. Owen, at this rate, the sea race will be annihilated," Finn said gravely, his usual jesting tone gone.

The Ambition Army had charged twelve times, claiming the lives of thirteen sea race warriors.

The scene was chaotic, with blood and entrails strewn everywhere, creating a nauseating, blood-drenched tableau.

Morton raised an eyebrow and commented: "Indeed, and we still don’t know what lies ahead. If these sea race warriors are all gone, we’ll lose our pathfinders!"

Even Quincy, pounding his chest in frustration, rebuked: "Owen, aren’t you going to do something? Do you want to watch the sea race get wiped out? Let your attendants and maidservants scout the path ahead then."

Owen’s eyes gleamed as he spoke calmly: "Aren’t you also holding back your full strength?"

Quincy, infuriated, almost choked: "I’ve been sustaining the ward and casting buff spells on the sea race. What have you done?"

Owen shrugged nonchalantly, not responding.

His goal of weakening the sea race’s strength had been achieved, and it was time for him to intervene.

After all, without the sea race, the journey ahead would be challenging, especially in the territory of Heartstealer Island.

He leaped into action, the Seastar Trident in his hand twirling continuously as waves of energy gathered around him.