The Broodmother Enters Battle
Richard cast one last glance at Sinclair from atop the castle walls, never looking at her again. He struggled to keep himself from blacking out, waves of dizziness washing over him in his exhaustion. He willed himself on, staying clear-headed and awake as he continued to oversee the defense.
He had to eradicate this incoming army before he could eliminate Sinclair. Nobody knew how long his skill and Flowsand’s divine flames would last, or how much power the young lady still had remaining. He had to kill and injure as many of the bearguard knights as possible before she could conceal herself and launch her attacks once more. This battle was a race against time.
The wind wolves had already spread out in an arc around the battlefield, closing in with the broodmother at the helm. The battle was still gory and intense, tens of soldiers dying with missing limbs. The bearguard knights were thrown off the walls one by one, roaring as they fell to their deaths. The soldiers were using their very lives to stop these foreign demons from making their way up.
The vicious magical horses lingered around at the foot of the castle, tearing the opposing soldiers apart. Anyone that fell down, be it a warrior of darkness, a normal soldier, or a half-orc, was bitten to pieces. At times they cooperated with their masters who were trying to hack the gates apart, collectively ramming into the iron as if they were a battering ram. Sparks could be seen every now and then, and it didn’t take long for the gates to be dented everywhere. Cracks that were wide enough to let light seep through were forming as well.
The soldiers behind the doors were doing everything they could to reinforce the defences, while a mage’s forehead was covered in sweat as he prepared a long, tedious, area spell. Even with a scroll in hand, this spell took a long time to chant while every syllable had to be pronounced perfectly. Once complete, a two-metre-tall barrier would rise out of the ground, becoming a stable fortification. All of them had already witnessed the prowess of the bearguard knights’ captain, they absolutely couldn’t allow these demons to barge in on their magical beasts!
Medium Rare and Tiramisu were fighting the horses at the base of the castle. They were the only ones who had managed to get up from the fall, continuing to battle fiercely. Although Tiramisu was casting stone skin on himself and his brother at the slightest chance, they were both covered in cuts and bruises all over as a result of the bites. Fortunately, Olar had found a good spot at the top of the walls that allowed him to support them with his warsong and bow.
Richard bit his lower lip, trying hard to maintain his inner composure. He calmly sent out order after order, directing the mix of soldiers on the battlefield.
More than ten elites and fifty soldiers had been lost during the battle with Sinclair, but now that Richard had command the damage was immediately brought under control. Ordered formations displayed great offensive and defensive capabilities; although a few lives were still taken by every blow of the bearguard knights’ giant axes, other soldiers would fill up the empty space in the blink of an eye.
This victory would be built on the lives of countless men, but that was also the only way it would arrive. The faces of the barbarians, desert warriors, and the baron’s own elites were completely taut, their eyes blazing red. They charged forwards dauntlessly, wave after wave, without any fear of death.
In Richard’s eyes, the battle that seemed to be complete chaos had already reached a pivotal moment. Although he still didn’t have complete assurance of victory, he wasn’t willing to wait anymore. He sent a command to the wind wolves and broodmother, launching the attack!
The great mage under Sinclair was rapidly approaching Twilight Castle in the cover of the dark. The defence had succeeded with the terrain-changing spell, leaving them with no choice but to attack and occupy the walls. More than half of the bearguard knights had already made their way onto the castle, a few of them reaching the top of the towers and cutting the ballistae to pieces. The greatest threat to his life had been eliminated.
What the Schumpeter army didn’t know was that each of the ballistae had only come with two bolts. These bolts that could track enemies were far too expensive, and even two each had taken more than a decade to acquire.
The great mage didn’t make it far before he suddenly stopped in his tracks, looking around warily. Huge wolves emerged from the thick fog one after the other, the same as the soulless wolves they had encountered before.
The great mage grew anxious. Although these wolves weren’t very powerful, they somehow gave off a strong sense of danger. More and more showed up with every moment, seeming like an endless stream. One of these wolves was clearly much bigger than the rest, watching him attentively. For a moment, the mage felt like he was being watched by a human.
And indeed, back on the castle walls Richard’s vision had synchronised with that of this elite. The great mage was cautious and didn’t dare to act hastily, but that was exactly what he wished for. These were his wind wolves, not normal beasts who only knew to pounce at first sight.
‘Inner circle flat down, middle circle crouching, outer circle tall!’ Richard commanded the elites. The two then let out numerous long howls, directing the packs under them just like captains taking orders from their general. This way, Richard only needed to issue a few orders which allowed him to conserve a great deal of energy.’
“Damn it!” Although these creatures weren’t behaving like ordinary wolves that were about to pounce, the great mage was instinctively aware that this was nothing good. These huge wolves were just too orderly in their movements! They resembled a well-trained army, so adjusted to uniformity that it frightened him.
He couldn’t care anymore about his precious advanced scrolls, unravelling one that could teleport him away to a random location. Even a great mage needed a brief chant to use such a powerful scroll, so he cast a barrier around himself before he started. This would be a short chant, only needing fifteen seconds. Even if these wolves tried to pounce on him, he would be able to last that period of time.
However, Richard had already issued another command, ‘Fire!’
An explosion sounded as hundreds of wind blades shot out from the mouths of the wind wolves, converging on the mage and breaking through his shield at once. Countless injuries riddled his body in an instant, arrows of blood shooting out and gathering into a cloud of blood mist. He then split apart into countless lumps of flesh, collapsing to the ground with a loud thud as if he was a destroyed pillar.
The two powerful armies then surged past the great mage like currents, charging towards Sinclair who was at the foot of the castle.
Sinclair felt an indescribable fear from atop the manticore. The mist was too thick for her to look hundreds of metres away with the naked eye, particularly so towards the forest as dense fog masked everything in darkness. She wasn’t sure what on earth had happened to the distant great mage; why on earth had he still not rushed over so long after she’d sent the signal?Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Translated By: Hestia
Edited By: Theo
TLC'ed By: OMA