Chapter 141

Chapter 141: The Day of the Decisive Battle. (2)

As the morning sun pierced through the sea and cast its brilliant golden light, between the Mudside Trading Port and the coastline—

There stood the nearly seven hundred-strong army of the Count of Tread, lined up in formation, staring straight ahead with unyielding resolve.

At the very rear stood soldiers heavily armed with bows, shields, and spears.

They were equipped with weapons forged from the Salamander’s Tongue, luxurious and far too extravagant for common soldiers at a glance.

Among them fluttered a banner engraved with a hammer symbol, and rage filled the faces of the soldiers.

'I'll kill them all...'

'Biterson died because of them.'

Each and every face brimmed with fury and hatred.

Their minds were entirely consumed with revenge for the comrades swept away by the tidal wave.

And that wasn’t all—at the front stood nearly a hundred knights from the Anvil Knight Order, split into three large formations.

"Yaaawn, the weather’s not bad."

At the center stood Pattinson, the 1st Unit Commander and also the Knight Order's commander, looking drowsy as he casually let his white beard flutter in the wind.

"Everyone, get your spirits up!"

"Yes, sir!"

To the left, 3rd Unit Commander Gilton, with a fierce face and a double-handed axe, roared at his subordinates to raise their morale.

"Check your gear, and stick to the original plan. This battle will be ours anyway."

"Understood!"

To the right, 4th Unit Commander Bohim, a lean man wielding a rapier, was encouraging his unit members.

Of course, the knights' responses were quite different from those of the soldiers.

What they felt wasn’t anger, but rather...

"Tch, what a pain in the ass because of these bastards."

"Damn scum... pulling off pathetic stunts."

It was more annoyance and irritation that such a situation had arisen against a third-rate noble house.

And the central figure of this war—Count Vernian of Tread.

Step, step.

He walked with arrogance and ease between the knights and came to stand beside Commander Pattinson.

"Hmmm..."

Arms crossed, he looked at the distant defensive stronghold with slightly wrinkled eyes.

Several layers of palisade walls, and watchtowers rising in between.

Every now and then, the forces of the Daphne Viscounty could be seen peeking through.

The corner of Vernian's mouth curled up crookedly.

"Truly looks like a bunch of rats."

It was like a pack of cats had gathered, and the rats, desperate to survive, had dug countless holes.

They seemed to have made some decent preparations for the attack...

'But it's pointless.'

No matter what they tried, rats could never defeat cats.

Soldiers armed with first-rate weapons, outnumbering them three to one, and a knight order with overwhelming skill.

With such a disparity, petty tricks wouldn't stand a chance.

‘No need for any brilliant strategy or tactics. Just crush them with brute force.’

March in ruthlessly, smash the rat holes, and tear apart the limbs of the ones trying to flee.

That was today’s battle plan, plain and simple.

As Vernian licked his lips like a snake flicking its tongue—

Commander Pattinson, who had been watching from the corner of his eye, cleared his throat and spoke.

“Lord, shall we proceed with the plan?”

“Yes, we’ll go with the Ensnaring Net strategy.”

“Understood.”

The Ensnaring Net.

The front-line unit would absorb enemy fire and break through, while the following forces—untouched—would suddenly fan out and overwhelm the enemy. Simple, but undeniably effective.

Pattinson, stroking his long beard, slightly turned his head.

Among the knights, here and there, were individuals lightly dressed, each carrying a black bow on their back.

Sharpshooters.

They were mana users—archers who wielded bows instead of swords.

Once equipped with their specially crafted Black Iron Bows, a single shot from a Sharpshooter could, without exaggeration, rival the destructive force of a siege weapon.

Utilizing them would allow the army to inflict significant damage even from a distance.

‘No matter how I look at it, there’s no chance of losing.’

Even if the enemy clung to their stronghold... they could be overwhelmed both at range and in close combat.

Besides, unlike at sea, there would be no variables like reefs or tidal waves on land.

‘The important thing is to crush them thoroughly, and unmistakably.’

Enough to satisfy the Lord.

After taking a brief breath, Pattinson addressed Vernian.

“My Lord, may we begin?”

“Do it.”

Clack!

Pattinson raised his hand.

Pooooooooh!

A soldier standing nearby blew a horn loudly and began waving the house banner with force.

“Raise shields!”

“Raise them!”

Chojok! Cho-jok!

The knights of the 1st Unit simultaneously lifted their tower shields.

Like golems built by alchemists, their movements were flawless—without the slightest error.

Wooooong!

Light gleamed in their eyes, and that same glow spread to the tower shields in their hands.

Under the descending morning sun, the shields emitted a blue light and formed a horizontal line, creating a breathtaking sight like a vast blue wall.

“Advance!”

Pattinson unslung the black long spear from his back and shouted.

Step, step!

The knights holding the tower shields advanced—not quite walking, not quite running, but at a steady pace somewhere in between.

“Match their pace! No need to rush!”

“Maintain formation!”

The 3rd and 4th Units of the Anvil Knight Order spread out like wings on either side, slowly marching behind the wall of shields, and the conscripts advanced around them in a surrounding formation.

A short while later—

Poooooooh!

“Fireeeee!”

“Shoooooot!”

With the blast of a horn from within the defensive stronghold, shouts rang out.

Then, enemy soldiers began peeking out from between the palisades.

Fwhiiish! Fwhiiish!

A rain of arrows poured out from the gaps.

At a glance, it looked to be several hundred—no exaggeration to call it a torrential downpour.

However—

Tatadang! Tang!

The arrows bounced off the knights' tower shields the moment they struck, completely nullified.

‘Pointless nonsense.’

‘What a waste of arrows.’

The knights at the front lines of Tread snorted and sneered.

Of course, not all the arrows were aimed at the front ranks.

Some of them occasionally targeted the areas where the 3rd and 4th Units were positioned, but even then—

“Raise shields!”

“Yes, sir!”

Clang! Clang!

Most were lightly deflected by their round shields or knocked aside by their swords.

And even if one or two lucky shots happened to slip past the shields—

Ping!

They bounced harmlessly off the high-quality armor worn by the knights without leaving so much as a scratch.

“What is this, child’s play?”

“Do they seriously think they can fight us like this?”

One knight who’d been hit casually scratched the spot as if it just itched, and the knights beside him chuckled.

It was hard to believe this was the middle of a battlefield.

Perhaps that was why—

“D-Damn it...”

“It’s not working!”

“Don’t stop! Keep firing!”

On top of the palisade, panic began to show on the faces of the Daphne soldiers.

Just as Tread’s advance continued unhindered—

“Go on, struggle all you want.”

Snap.

At Count Vernian’s signal, the standard-bearers near each unit began waving their flags.

The Sharpshooters positioned throughout the formation nocked arrows onto their Black Iron Bows.

These were special arrows made mostly of wrought iron, their tips finely honed to a razor point.

Too heavy for regular archers to use properly, but in the hands of Sharpshooters, they became weapons of terrifying destruction.

Craaaaaack!

The shooters activated Fortification and pulled their bowstrings back to the limit with the special arrows.

Fwhiiiiiiiiiiiiish!

At the signal, the bowstrings were released in unison, and a dozen or more arrows soared.

Unlike regular arrows that arced through the air, these flew in straight lines, tracing blue streaks as they pierced into the stronghold—

CRAAACK!

“AAAAAARGH!”

A watchtower shattered, and the soldiers atop it plummeted to the ground.

CRACKLE!

“HIIIIIIIK! M-MY HEAD!”

Conscripts who had been peeking over the stronghold walls had their heads or torsos explode, spraying blood in every direction.

“W-We’re gonna dieeeee!”

“Gods, are those monsters?!”

Screams echoed all around, and Daphne’s soldiers were gripped by overwhelming fear.

“Counterattack! Now!”

“B-But if we stick our heads out, we die!”

Some soldiers tried to find an opening to fight back, but every time they did, another comrade’s head exploded before their eyes, freezing them in place.

Naturally, the volley of arrows toward Tread began to slow down.

Watching this from the rear, Vernian exhaled sharply through his nose.

‘Pathetic.’

He looked utterly relaxed, as if he were out on a leisurely stroll.

Why these fools had dared to bare their fangs in the first place—he couldn’t understand it at all.

No matter how desperately they flailed, they'd be trampled just as easily.

Snap.

Vernian raised his hand again to signal.

The Sharpshooters, seeing this, once again nocked their arrows.

Fwhiiish! Fwhiiish!

Another wave of deadly bolts flew.

“D-Dodge it!”

The soldiers standing on the palisade screamed in terror and fled in panic.

“AAARGH!”

More deaths followed, and with each one... the pace of Tread’s advance quickened.

“Fire! Fire!”

“Drown them in arrows and finish them off!”

As they closed the gap, even Tread’s regular archers began raining arrows inside the stronghold.

“I—I can’t raise my head!”

“Damn it! At least raise your shields!”

Some knights rushed forward to deflect the arrows and block with their shields... but for Daphne’s archers, even daring to poke their heads out remained nearly impossible.

Like frightened turtles retreating into their shells, they cowered—while the distance between them and Tread shrank ever more quickly.

“Pick up the pace!”

“Yes, sir!”

Soon, the gap between the stronghold and the knights closed to less than ten meters.

Snap.

At Vernian’s signal, the archers ceased fire.

“Charge!”

From behind the 1st Unit, Commander Pattinson barked a sharp, commanding order.

Then—

THUD! THUD!

The knights threw aside their tower shields, drew the swords and spears at their hips—

“Let’s goooo!”

“RAAAAAAGH!”

Like wolves who’d caught sight of a rabbit, they charged at the stronghold with ferocious expressions.

A violent sprint, devoid of even a shred of caution.

Wooooooong!

Blue energy surged in their eyes and weapons.

If they crossed that wall and charged inside, the stronghold would be torn apart in an instant.

Just as the entire Tread force reached its peak of excitement—

“Whoopsie!”

A man suddenly leapt up atop the palisade.

With yellow hair and a signature rotting grin—it was Hardin Daphne, the Great Young Master of the Daphne family.

‘What the hell?’

‘Is he trying to fight alone?’

‘That guy is...’

From Vernian to Commander Pattinson, and the 3rd and 4th Unit Commanders—everyone’s gaze was locked on Hardin.

“No one enters someone else’s house without permission!”

With a grin spreading across his face, Hardin dropped down inside the palisade.

“Here we goooo!”

“Huh?”

As he straightened his body again, he lifted a massive boulder with both arms.

And he wasn’t alone.

“Ughhghgh!”

“S-So heavyyyyy!”

Beyond the palisade, over a dozen knights stood, each hoisting a rock—slightly smaller than Hardin’s, but still formidable in size.

‘Were they waiting for this?’

‘Are they going to… throw those?’

The charging knights’ attention immediately locked onto the stones, and their steps slowed slightly.

At that moment—

“Throw it!”

Hardin hurled the boulder downward.

“Here we gooo!”

“Eat this, bastards!”

The knights followed suit, hurling their own stones forward.

But—

THUD! THUD!

‘Are they seriously throwing these to hit us?’

‘Pathetic. They’re calling this a tactic…?’

The Tread knights easily sidestepped the stones, scoffing as they did.

Faces twisted with ridicule at such a laughable attempt—when suddenly—

Crack! Crackle!

“Huh?”

A strange cracking sound echoed from beneath their feet.

The Tread knights looked down—

Shhhhhhhk!

The ground beneath them was collapsing.

“W-What the?!”

“Eeeeek!”

Three or four knights noticed in time and barely leapt onto solid ground nearby.

But the rest—over a dozen—

“Gahh!”

“AAARGH!”

Plunged downward, straight onto sharp metal spikes hidden beneath the surface.

Their high-quality Tread armor saved them from being completely skewered, but the impact left their armor crushed, and blood spurted from their mouths.

‘W-What is happening?!’

‘A trap?’

Shock and fear spread across the faces of the Tread knights.

“D-Damn it! Climb up!”

“You bastards!”

They scrambled to climb out of the pit, but—

Slip!

‘It’s slippery!’

‘We can’t get out!’

The walls, slick with oil and clinging moss, made it nearly impossible to escape.

And in the middle of it all—

“A-hahaha! How do you like that, scumbags? That’s one of Sir Mikkelsen’s specially designed traps!”

Perched atop the palisade, Mikkelsen jeered at them with a triumphant fist-pump.

‘That guy, even in a situation like this…’

Was he fearless, or just reckless?

Standing beside him, Manton placed a hand on his forehead, then raised his sword high and shouted loudly.

“Fire! Don’t let those knights climb out!”

In response, the soldiers and knights who had been hiding behind the palisade leapt out and rained arrows and rocks down into the pit.

“Gaaaah!”

“Ugh!”

Some of the knights trying to climb up were struck in the head by rocks or pierced by arrows and fell helplessly back into the trap.

Of course, Tread didn’t just stand there and take it.

“Cover fire! Target the ones on the palisade so our men can climb out!”

“Yes, sir!”

Fwhiiish! Fwhap!

“AAAGH!”

“Guhh!”

Soldiers collapsed as arrows from Sharpshooters and Tread’s archers struck them down.

‘If we stop here, it’s over!’

‘Just one more shot—anything!’

But rather than cower in fear, the defenders gritted their teeth and kept fighting.

“This is our port!”

Fwhiiish! Fwhiiish!

Each time death came for one of their comrades, their rage surged, driving them to resist even more fiercely.

A completely different spirit from moments before.

“These bastards…”

Veins bulged on Vernian’s forehead as his once-calm expression began to distort.

Tip: Tap/click the left or right side of the screen to go to previous/next chapter.