The Next War(2)

Richard spread out a map, cautiously checking the terrain and situation around them. The opposing army had a lot of footsoldiers, so they moved at a slow pace. They were currently fifty kilometres away, which would require an entire day’s march to cover. Even after that, they would need a night’s rest before they could attack.

The lands on the border of the Sequoia Kingdom and the Bloodstained Lands experienced a sudden rise in elevation, so Richard’s fief was several hundred metres higher than the Bloodstained Lands. The terrain was complicated here, with many mountainous regions that were difficult to traverse. The place lent itself greatly to guerilla warfare, so Richard decided to fight Zim’s army here. Although his troops were fewer in number, they were all elites with the experience of numerous battles. He always prized their adaptability, and this battlefield was one that required exactly that.

......

As night fell slowly, Viscount Zim’s army came to a stop. They would set off at dawn, reaching Richard’s lands the next afternoon. The young Baron Fontaine had already been bought over, agreeing to not provide labour and materials to Richard. This would leave their enemies without any defensive structures; even the barracks would be a temporary building.

The Highland Unicorn himself was pacing around a huge, luxurious tent in the centre of the base, occasionally cursing loudly at Richard. When not throwing expletives, he was imagining how he would torture that damned frontier knight, leaving him so excited he could not sleep.

There were four beautiful noble ladies in the tent, making it seem slightly crowded. These daughters of noble houses were acting like maids, pouring him water and wine. The traditional laws of not bringing women along only applied to the regular soldiers, holding no power over Zim. Most of this army was made of his personal troops anyway.

Zim continued waving his fist around, declaring that he wanted a fight to the death in Richard’s territory. As a true noble, he would defeat that mere frontier knight who had come out from goodness-knows-where. However, at the same time, many warhorses used the cover of the night to gradually near the base. The horses’ hooves were covered with cloth, preventing any sounds from their trot. The desert warriors atop were masters at horsemanship, so their mounts remained very docile under their command.

A small group of soldiers was patrolling the temporary base in circles, gradually growing farther away from the small team. Richard waited until they were out of sight to raise his right hand, upon which Olar immediately brought out his bow and aimed straight at the camp. When the hand fell, two enchanted arrows flew soundlessly through the night sky like comets, burying themselves into the two sentinels on the watchtower.

The sentinels immediately fell down. Although the couldn’t make any sounds themselves, the heavy thuds still alarmed quite a few of the warriors. However, it was at this exact moment that Richard pointed forward, having the dozens of desert warriors behind him spur their horses on towards the camp.

A few barbarians charged towards the sides of the camp with large strides, making quick work of the crude fence with the large axes in their hands. They met a few soldiers who had just run out of their tents, chuckling menacingly as they brandished their large axes to bring down the first few who weren’t adjusted to the darkness. They then headed towards another tent, where alarmed shouts were ringing out. The soldiers within were still wearing their clothes and armour, unaware that the god of death had already come for them.

Two sturdy warriors surrounded the tent, taking a deep breath before whirling their axes at the same time. A sharp whistle sounded before the cries within suddenly disappeared; with its pillars broken apart, the tent had collapsed completely. Blood quickly soaked the cloth.

The warriors were still eager to continue, slashing wantonly at the bulges in the cloth a few times. Every attack turned the cloth redder, and it was only when a dozen soldiers approached them in formation that they were forced to stop. A low-ranking officer was at the head of this group of soldiers, preventing the barbarians from advancing any further.

At that moment, a burning fireball pierced the darkness to land in front of the soldiers. The explosion sent four of them flying, turning four more into human torches. The barbarians seemed fearless, quickly moving into the broken formation and charging the officer down. Their goal was not to kill as many as they could; it was more important to sow chaos and kill the leaders. Without their captains, the footsoldiers would just be scattered sand.

Even as the barbarians’ axes were raised high, they suddenly felt a breeze blow past them. How could any breeze blow in this world of raging flames and energy? Their eyes twitched as they continued to prepare the attacks, but the officer in front of them suddenly went stiff. A blade with no lustre poked out of his chest, piercing right through his heart.

Phaser appeared behind the officer like a demon. Her body half-bowed, she swiftly passed between the two barbarians and hid behind them. These warriors knew that this assassin was one of Richard’s warriors, so they roared and brought their axes down, cutting down the soldiers who were pursuing her.

Richard was currently moving along the borders of the camp. He already had a clear picture of the chaos in the camp, three sides already broken into by his army. Zim’s enormous and eye-catching tent was less than a hundred metres away, but over a hundred elites were already gathered around it. A level 14 general was shouting out commands, gathering the scattered soldiers and grouping them in defensive formations.

The ability to form a defensive line around the Viscount was proof enough of this general’s ability. The soldiers under him were also courageous and powerful. Seeing the neat defensive formation around the large tent, Richard gave up on his initial plan of using the ambush to capture Zim alive.

However, the true attack had yet to occur. Wandering around the camp in the night, Richard launched fireball after fireball into the fray. The large projectiles normally set three or four tents on fire, and the raging winds from the flames only helped the chaotic inferno spread further.

All of a sudden, many cries started ringing from the camp’s stables. Nobody had noticed as a greyish ball of light flew into the stable, silently exploding into a mental attack on the squires guarding the place. Everyone started panicking, and the warhorses were startled as well. They began to kick and bite, doing their best to struggle free of the ropes.

In the midst of that chaos, screams and shouts rang out in the night sky. A bunch of hatchets whizzed through the air, cutting down seven or eight of the squires in the confusion. These hatchets were immensely powerful, able to cleave the bone off even the majestic warhorses.

*BANG!* The stable fences were torn apart by the two trolls, and the barbarians and desert warriors quickly flooded the stables to begin an attack on the squires. Another fear spell landed in the midst of the enemy. The location and timing were extremely precise, ensuring that the seemingly chaotic desert warriors were not caught in its effects. The squires were all debilitated, and the barbarians who had charged ahead were barely affected given the natural valour of their race. WIth half their opponents incapacitated, the battle ended up being a massacre.

Another strange wave of yells rang through the night, but nobody could tell the language of these screams. Another wave of hatchets quickly flew through the sky, cutting down ten of the squires who were huddled together. Their morale finally hit rock bottom in the face of this fierce offense, and they began to escape in all directions.