Reincarnated as a boss tyrant in the game

The Highland King held a giant battle-axe, its blade taller than a man, covered in mysterious runes. He roared, his voice like thunder: "Crush them!"

The giant elephant swung its thick trunk, hurling the soldiers of the Autriff army into the air before slamming them down.

The Highland King swung his battle-axe, each swing cleaving several enemies in two. Blood splattered onto his armor, adding to his ferocious appearance.

Finally, the Mountain King rode a unicorn that radiated a faint blue light. The unicorn flapped its massive wings, its speed like a swift wind.

The Mountain King wore a silver magical robe, holding a staff inlaid with sapphires. He chanted, and the tip of the staff emitted emerald rays of light. Wherever it struck, enemies were instantly sliced into pieces by massive wind blades.

The Mountain King roared, "Prepare to die!" Behind him followed his well-trained antelope riders, like a blue torrent sweeping across the battlefield.

The four alien Border Kings led their respective elite troops, launching a violent, torrential assault on the Autriff army from different directions.

Their momentum was fierce and unstoppable. Wherever they went, Autriff soldiers fell one after another, their defeat like a collapsing mountain. The entire battlefield was thrown into chaos.

On the walls of Oscark City, Prince Autriff's face was ashen. His gaze swept over the dense rebel army below the city, his thoughts racing like wild horses.

Along the way, the horses' hooves kicked up billowing dust, the groans of the wounded and the cries of the soldiers intertwining into a tragic symphony.

When the Prince finally stepped into Oscark City, he looked back to find the ranks behind him scattered and broken.

The once mighty army of two million was now less than two hundred thousand.

And the Imperial Legion, that powerful force that should have fought alongside him, had vanished without a trace, as if it had evaporated from the world.

A trace of anger and unwillingness flashed in Prince Autriff's eyes. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white from the force.

"Humph!" The Prince snorted coldly, his heart filled with regret.

In the final charge, blades flashed and lives were wagered on the battlefield, but he never saw the Imperial Legion.

He had thought they would strike like thunder from the flank, dealing a fatal blow to the rebels, but in reality, they had quietly slipped away in the chaos.

As for the Imperial Knights, after briefly fighting alongside the Ironblood Knights, they too fled, abandoning him.

The Prince slowly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

He carefully reviewed the war in his mind, from the initial deployment to every turning point in the battle.

Gradually, he realized that the Imperial Legion had been behaving strangely from the very beginning.

Throughout the entire battle, they had never truly engaged in fierce combat, as if they were watching coldly from the sidelines.

The Imperial Mage Corps was the same. After the magic cannon battalion exhausted its magic crystals, it quickly retreated, completely disregarding the lives and deaths of the soldiers on the battlefield.

"So, they were planning to escape from the start..." Prince Autriff muttered to himself, his voice filled with endless loneliness and sorrow.

He had been deeply convinced of the Empire's support, placing all his hopes on these so-called allies, but he never expected that he would ultimately be betrayed.

Inside Oscark City, Prince Autriff walked through the dim hall, each step as heavy as if it would break through the stone slabs.

Although the thought of surrender had sprouted in his heart, when his eyes met the surging rebel army outside the window, hope instantly shattered like a bubble.

This war was like a brutal meat grinder, ruthlessly devouring countless living beings.

The price paid by the rebel army was too heavy, a blood debt that would be remembered for life and felt deeply.

The rebels had lost more than 30,000 knights and over 200,000 infantrymen.

At first glance, this number might seem insignificant compared to the two million troops once commanded by Prince Autriff.

But upon closer inspection, one would be startled by the horror of it.

One must know that even the lowest-ranking soldiers in the rebel army were professionals.

They had undergone rigorous training, possessed strength and value far exceeding ordinary soldiers, and each was an elite in the army.

In this cruel war, the fall of each professional soldier meant the loss of a valuable fighting force, the waste of countless efforts and resources.

This loss was undoubtedly a heavy blow to the rebel army, which already had limited forces.

When these casualty figures were spread across each Border King, the impact was even more unbearable.

Which of these Border Kings had not accumulated their current power through countless hardships?

Every professional soldier was the apple of their eye, the foundation for their ambition to dominate the world.

Now, watching the strength they had painstakingly built over the years being ruthlessly consumed and destroyed in this war, how could they not feel their hearts bleeding?

"Humph, they will never accept my surrender, they will definitely hunt me down and kill me," Prince Autriff murmured, his voice full of despair and helplessness.

On this cruel battlefield, once the flames of hatred are ignited, they will burn fiercely and be difficult to extinguish.

The rebel army would never let go of this opportunity for revenge, they yearned to use his blood to commemorate those comrades who had died in the war.

The Prince stopped, his gaze turned to the distance, his thoughts drifting back to the beginning of the war.

At that time, he was high-spirited and full of ambition, believing that with the troops and intelligence in his hands, he could easily quell the rebellion.

But now, reality was like a heavy hammer, shattering his fantasies.

Perhaps only endless darkness and death awaited him.

The faint light of dawn had not yet completely dispelled the darkness of the night when a burst of passionate but also murderous horns suddenly sounded, breaking the silence over Oscark City.

This sound was like a heavy hammer, slamming hard on the hearts of the remaining Autriff army soldiers. They knew that the rebels had launched their final attack.

The remaining 200,000 troops of the Autriff army, at this moment of life and death, erupted with their final strength.

They hurriedly climbed the city walls, holding weapons in their hands, their eyes filled with determination and unwillingness.

Although they had been exhausted and battered after days of war, in order to defend this city and protect their dignity, they still chose to fight back with all their might.

On the city walls, arrows intertwined like raindrops, magical light flickered wildly, and the sounds of shouting, killing, and weapons colliding intertwined into a tragic battle song.