In the Fasen Town camp, messengers and scouts continued to come in and out of the tents, allowing Lind to grasp the latest movements of Wisk’s allied forces in real time.
“Fifty thousand allied forces, without splitting their troops, are coming straight toward us?”
As a top graduate of the Royal Capital Academy, Isha repeatedly confirmed the intelligence she held in her hands.
This was too illogical, to the point that Isha instinctively felt there had to be a trick.
“This is quite normal.”
Jefferson, beside her, kept wiping the sweat beads falling from his forehead, regretting his decision to straddle the fence, while also explaining to Isha, “The allied forces don’t actually have fifty thousand people; the real number is only around twenty to thirty thousand at most. Among them, there are many relatives accompanying them, even cooks.”
“Not to mention the cooks also need to bring a bunch of logistics, just the servants maintaining these nobles’ appearances probably account for a third. Such a heavy force is very hard to command for a split attack.”
Upon hearing this explanation, Isha exclaimed, “Is this how you nobles fight? No wonder the border is in such a state.”
“No, my lady, we nobles are even more exaggerated than you imagine.”
After saying that, Jefferson took out a plan and placed it on the table.
After reading it, Isha fell silent for a long time; the plan detailed how each noble would hold a position after surrounding the Graywhite Territory, akin to placing bets, then gambling on where the Graywhite’s people would break through.
Of course, there was also the bet that Graywhite would surrender, but the odds were very low and nowhere near as exciting as betting on a position.
“In order to prevent anyone from rushing to occupy a better position first, the entire allied force is uniformly managed, and it is impossible to split troops.”
Switching to another handkerchief to continue wiping sweat, Jefferson kept explaining. He had been sweating profusely these past few days, especially as the allied forces gradually approached.
“This is… too exaggerated.”
Isha imagined the limits of the nobles, and the nobles demonstrated with their actual actions: our limits surpass your imagination.
Lind stored away the new intelligence and looked at the map, saying, “Don’t underestimate the enemy, but there’s no need to be overly tense; just follow the plan and act accordingly.”
Counting the three hundred soldiers equipped with individual combat backpacks, along with Lena’s knights and the sisters, the two sides could indeed be considered evenly matched in terms of profession. If the opponent’s army could not arrange themselves for a frontal stance, it would be fair to say they were a paper tiger; in chaos, those ordinary people who came to fight only because they were summoned by their lords would instead be a burden.
As the enemy drew closer, Lind’s heart grew calmer.
At that moment, Lena entered wearing enormous armor that completely mismatched her frame.
“How do I look, brother? Like my grandpa?”
Though heavier, Lena, as a tier six professional, managed to control it as if it were an extension of herself.
Lena swept away her earlier gloom. With the approach of war, she became increasingly excited, as if the bloodline of the Lars family’s war was constantly awakening.
Having never seen Duke Lars, Lind didn’t know how to respond and could only say, “Remember, don’t get too attached to the battle. We won’t have just this one opportunity; if we are discovered, we’ll run to the minefield. Understand? Your safety is more important than anything.”
“Don’t worry, brother. No one in the entire Northern Border is my match.”
After saying that, Lena struck a pose to show off her muscles, though nothing could be seen underneath the heavy armor.
Watching Lena gradually lose her focus again, Lind turned to Susan beside Lena and said, “Protect your lady, understand?”
“To the death, I swear to guard her!”
At that moment, a servant entered to report, “My lord, the artillery positions in the forest have been prepared.”
Upon hearing this report, Lena immediately put on her helmet.
“Then, brother, I’m off!”
On the other side, Wisk led the majority of the allied forces into the valley. In the head position of the allied forces, Wisk was leading his attendants out of the valley.
“My lord Evans, are we really going to charge out of the valley like this?”
Seeing the seemingly endless lines behind them slowly advancing in the valley, the envoy from the Royal Capital was deeply worried. Even someone who completely understood nothing about military strategy could see that if someone ambushed the valley, they could slice the allied forces in two in an instant.
However, having had a few drinks, Wisk, with a flushed face, said, “Envoy, have you heard the joke about the Lars family?”
The envoy shook his head; the envoy from the Royal Capital was indeed not very familiar with the Northern Border.
“Once, the knights of the Lars family wanted to chase after a couple of demons on the opposite bank. Because the river was too deep and there were no bridges, the knights could only use arrows to shoot, but who knew that the demons on the opposite side had bloodline magic specifically designed to counter arrows? A group of knights could only scratch their heads in bewilderment at the opposite bank.”
“Hahahaha, do these knights not even know any long-range attack magic?”
The envoy from the Royal Capital laughed heartily, feeling much lighter. Though this story was likely fabricated, the knights of the Lars family indeed lacked long-range attack means.
“Not only that, but these turtle-shelled knights also lack killing capabilities; it is common for losses to reach a dozen or so on the opposing side after a battle, which has become a joke in the Northern Border.”
Wisk added, “If our opponent were a group of mages, then moving through this valley would indeed be devastating, but our opponents are just a group of knights from the Lars family. Hahahaha, I’m already starting to laugh.”
The envoy from the Royal Capital flattered, “Lord Evans is indeed a god of war; you’ve already studied the opposing forces thoroughly. It’s a pity we have a traitor, Jefferson among us; otherwise, the remnants of the Lars would never expect us to be coming from here straight to Graywhite Territory.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Wisk said dismissively, “I still have to thank Jefferson; otherwise, this battle would be a bit too dull as the starting point of my epic.”
The nearby Lucanus also flattered, “Exactly, only with dramatic betrayals and uncertainties can an epic be exciting.”
“Right, right. Little Lu, I just thought of a couplet that could serve as the beginning of my epic story; come, take a look at how it sounds?”
Just as Lucanus was about to ride forward, a low rumble sounded from the front.
Perhaps due to having had a bit of alcohol, Wisk clearly heard this sound amidst the surrounding noise.
Did it thunder just as they exited the valley?
Wisk frowned; that’s not a good omen. If it rains, those nobles in the rear would definitely complain; if they got soaked, one couldn’t talk about any noble dignity or decorum.
As for advancing in the rain?
Shouldn’t they be enjoying the scenery while camping on the mountain in such weather?
Thinking of this, Wisk looked up at the hilltop over the valley, trying to find a suitable spot for viewing.
However, just as Wisk raised his head, the rumble came again, and this time it was very close, right above him. Wisk clearly saw something flying rapidly towards him in the sky.
A giant shell screamed past in the air, crashing down with devastating force around Wisk. The shell exploded on the ground, violently lifting soil and rocks, forming a barrier of black smoke and dust.
The armor on Wisk reflected brilliant symbols, but then more shells fell, bringing a continuous series of explosions.
Even wearing enchanted armor, Wisk still felt as if his chest had been smashed with a hammer; a sweet taste surged in his throat as a mouthful of fresh blood was spat out from Wisk’s mouth. The impact knocked Wisk off balance, and he fell from his horse.
But the explosions did not stop, as if hundreds of mages were continually casting a rain of destruction, and the thunder was the forewarning of the raindrops.
Not only the vanguard forces led by Wisk were attacked, but the same rumble sounded in the mountains at the back, plunging the entire allied forces into chaos.
The entire valley was filled with flames mixed with smoke; wreckage was accompanied by screams, and enchanted lights flickered everywhere. But more were ordinary soldiers and horses panicking and crashing into their companions in the chaos.
The vanguard had not advanced far; the numerous ordinary soldiers were soon thrown into confusion, some trying to escape into the valley, while others scattered and fled outwards.
The expensive enchantments helped Wisk survive the explosions, and his attendants were loyal enough to form a cocoon around Wisk in the chaotic crowd, preventing him from being trampled.
Enemy attack? But why didn’t the mages in front detect any magical reactions? When did the Lars family acquire such terrifying long-range striking capabilities?
Wisk’s head and armor were buzzing; could it be that the Lars from Winterhold had come to support?
Just as the explosion sound began to lessen, as Wisk thought he might finally catch a breath while propping himself up with the help of his attendant, a troop carrying fire sticks and strange backpacks appeared in front of them.
Before the front line of the allied forces could react, a torrential rain of molten fire rays began to harvest the lives of the front-line allied forces like the Grim Reaper’s scythe.
Especially those troops bearing conspicuous noble banners; before Wisk could get up, his attendant supporting him was shot clean through by a molten fire ray.
Once again falling to the ground, Wisk saw Lucanus not far away and immediately roared, “Lucanus! Pull me up!”
Wisk shouted repeatedly amidst the explosions, but Lucanus seemed not to hear, staring blankly at the sky full of artillery fire with a bewildered smile on his face.
“Lucanus! Are you deaf?! I told you to pull me up!”
Wisk shouted angrily, but probably due to Lucanus’s striking outfit standing out among the soldiers, he was immediately hit by a few rays and then struck head-on by a shell.
Wisk, blown away by the explosion, witnessed Lucanus being torn apart before his very eyes.
