Release That Witch

Chapter 108: Echo (Part I)

t’s been two months since the Months of Demons had ended, and the snow had finally turned melted into streams which ran into the Redwater River.

Once the white landscape slowly faded away, the trees on both sides began to sprout again, everything became green once more.

The land to the east of the town had already been cleared by Anna with her flames, and His Highness had temporarily turned it into a training ground for the First Army of Border Town.

At the training ground, Carter Lannis was holding a casing and was checking if the bayonet was firmly installed.

This was the newest invention of His Highness, but compared to the automatic operating machine and the modified snow powder, this new invention seemed to be a little too simple. When holding it in his hands, Carter instantly realized that it was not a qualified weapon.

In short, it was just a sharp iron triangle, with the middle line as the base, with the other two sides pointing inwards a little. Although it had a sharp edge, it was impossible to use it to cut down enemies—the blade was just too narrow after it was bent. Even if he was to attack an enemy without armor, if he tried to slash out horizontally, Carter was not sure he would even be able to cut apart the enemy’s clothes.

This weapon had only one purpose, and that was, stabbing. And it required being connected to the flintlock for its use. When used alone, it would not be as handy as a dagger.

In the eyes of the chief knight, wasting so much pig iron, only to forge such a simplistic weapon was totally unacceptable. If a blacksmith within his territory had dared to create such a weapon, he would have tied the man and given him a proper beating.

But even for a bad weapon like this, he could still see His Highness’ attention to details. For example, the design of the casing. The mouth of the barrel had two grooves with a right angle at its end, so as long as the pieces were fitted properly and the bayonet was turned slightly it would become fixed. Because of this design, the pieces did not need to fit perfectly, and if they were a little too loose, some paper could be inserted between the two iron pieces and the grooves, and in case there was no paper, even tree leaves would work instead.

”Put the bayonet on the gun!”

Hearing the command, the members of the Flintlock Squad who had a bayonet allocated to them took them out of their bag and put them on the gun’s barrel—until now there were only about forty pieces of the new weapon and supporting bags. So the ones who did not receive a new weapon had to use a short stick instead.

They practiced this action for almost the whole morning, and now most of them only needed just a few seconds to adjust the bayonet. According to His Highness’ words, the bayonet should only be used as a last resort. He did not want his men to fight a close combat fight. Carter disagreed with this statement, he thought as long as someone did not personally stab an enemy, they would still be considered as children. Only when they saw their enemies’ first blood, they would transform from ordinary miners and hunters into soldiers.

Iron Axe was also in the platoon. Although he claimed to only be a hunter, Carter could see from his skills that the man had definitely received military training before. His skills were not much worse than that of the other knights.

When His Highness asked Carter to teach the soldiers how to use the new weapon, he did not feel very confident. He never heard of a weapon called bayonet before, so there was a chance that he did not even know how to use it. However, after seeing the prototype, he became full of confidence. After all, the bayonet was just like a short spear, and due to its special blade, it was much easier to use it compared to a spear.

The advantage of the bayonet was in the simplicity of learning to use it. There was no need to learn how to slash, lift, block or sweep, there was only one move, stabbing. So the chief knight let all the platoon members line up and taught them the most appropriate way of stabbing—placing one foot behind the other, bending the knees and the waist and pushing their arms forward with their maximum strength.

This kind of repetitive training was extremely boring. But what amazed Carter was that everyone was meticulously completing the stabbing training. Before the winter they were all still a bunch of weak and lazy civilians, but now they were behaving properly. They would immediately follow any command, and training them was even easier than training a squire. Of course, if he were to give them a sword, or using the words of His Highness “cold weapons”, these people still would not stand a chance against his men. But in terms of willpower, their progress was really notable in his eyes.

After half an hour of training, Carter let the flintlock squad sit down and rest. At this moment, His Highness the prince showed up on the training ground, accompanied by a woman who was wearing a hood. The knight was not surprised. His Highness had informed him in advance that they would be assisted by a witch during today’s training.

However, that witch was pretty tall, she was almost as tall as His Highness. Girls are more attractive if they are shorter, Carter thought. He then told everyone to stand up and greet the fourth prince.

“Greetings Your Highness!” The soldiers shouted and raised their hands.

“Thank you for your effort,” Roland nodded. As he was about to speak to the knight, a soldier suddenly rushed out of the team. Carter Lannis frowned, he stepped forward placing the prince behind himself with his hand already touching his sword. Nightingale had also appeared, grabbing Roland’s arm waiting to drag the prince into the mist in case something went wrong.

The person who appeared was exactly Iron Axe.

He did not run to the prince, but instead to the unknown witch, immediately falling down to his knees in front of her. It was not the Kingdom’s normal kneeling posture, instead, he threw his whole body flat on the ground, with his head buried between his arms, “Clan Leader!”

With this, the flintlock squad’s training came to an end.

“Tell me. Why did you do that?”

Back in the castle hall, Carter, Echo, and Iron Axe stood in a row, while Roland sat on the throne, he asked clearly dissatisfied.

Discipline, discipline! You have to always maintain discipline in the platoon! Not to mention seeing a clan leader, even if you were to see the King, you should not move an inch. If there is any request, there is always time for a report later.

“Your Highness,” Iron Axe wanted to kneel down but just as he leaned over, he was stopped by Roland.

”Stand straight and speak!”

”Yes!” Iron Axe swallowed nervously, and said, ”Master Silver Moon is the clan leader I served back in Iron Sand City.”

“No, Kabago, I am not the Clan Leader…” Echo quickly waved her hands.

”No, you are,” Iron Axe responded, ”After the death of your father and brother, according to the Mowkin custom, you became the clan leader of our Osha clan. I heard that you were sold to the Port of Clearwater, but I didn’t find you there, so I thought you were… dead.”

”But I’m——”

Roland interrupted Echo, ”One by one, you first Iron Axe.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

…

The story was not complicated, so Roland quickly understood the general idea of what happened.

Echo was originally a member of the Osha Clan in Iron Sand City. Her real name was Drow Silvermoon, and her father was the clan leader of the Osha Clan.

The Sand Nation was not unified and Iron Sand City was only able to accommodate a limited population, so every now and then, each clan had to take part in a sacred duel, and the six victorious clans would gain the right to live in the city, while the other clans had to either live outside the city, or camp at the Green Sea. Although there were water resources in these places, the wild beasts and the sandstorms would cause a great threat to the Sandpeople. So during each of the sacred duels, the warriors of the various clans would spare no effort in order to win.

Chapter 109: Echo (Part II)

nfortunately, the Osha Clan lost to the Ironwhip Clan, who had used insidious means during the duel. The Osha leader was killed and the clan ended up being exiled to Endless Cape. Drow Silvermoon, now known as Echo, was the daughter of the former clan leader and because of her extraordinary looks, she was sold as a first-class slave to a slaver at Port of Clearwater.

Iron Axe was of mixed-blood, and despite his being adopted by the Osha Clan, he was never regarded as a real Mojin person by the Sand Nation. For this reason, he escaped the fate of exile. Instead, other clans highly regarded him and they wanted to recruit him due to his excellent combat abilities. However, Iron Axe felt loyalty towards the Osha Clan Leader and was grateful for all of his help over the years, which, coupled with his desire to save Echo, made him resolutely reject the offers from the other clans. After a long and difficult journey, he finally arrived at Port of Clearwater. Unfortunately, he was too late and Echo had already been sold to the Kingdom of Graycastle.

Ultimately, Echo had been rescued by the witches and joined the Witch Cooperation Association, while Iron Axe headed to the Western Region of Graycastle, with a broken spirit. Today they unexpectedly ran into each other in Border Town.

After a moment Roland asked, “So what’s your plan? Do you want to return to the Southernmost Region with Echo and revive the Osha Clan?”

“No, Your Highness!” Iron Axe went down on one knee. “I’ve already sworn to the Three Gods that I’ll serve you for the rest of my life… It’s just… I was so excited to see Lady Silvermoon again that I couldn’t control my emotions. Please punish me!”

“What about you?” the prince asked looking at Echo, “Do you want to go and avenge your people?”

Echo also knelt in front of the prince before replying. “After my awakening as a witch, I did have thoughts of revenge, but that was a long time ago.” She bit her lip, “Please allow me to stay… I don’t have anywhere else to go.'”

“I understand. Stand up, both of you,” Roland said quietly, “You don’t have to act contrite, and I haven’t said anything yet.” He paused a moment before saying empathetically. “You know, it’s not impossible for me to help you get your revenge.”

“What?” Iron Axe opened his eyes in shock, unable to believe his own ears. Echo, on the other hand, did not react. After all this time she had given up hope of ever returning to Iron Sand City.

“Of course, not right this very moment.” Roland waved his hand dismissively. This idea of his had not been mere whimsy. According to Iron Axe’s descriptions of the Southernmost Region, he had heard about some very interesting things—the hot and dry land with the strange terrain. How the ground would spew forth orange flames that could burn for decades, never to be extinguished. Near the flames, the ground had eroded into many pits and in their depths, and one could see the black Styx’s River.

Orange fire and the Styx’s River, the more Roland thought about it the more he believed. “That sounds like oil. Better still, it sounds like free-flowing oil!” There was no point in thinking about the importance of the black liquid to industrial development, and more than half of the modern day wars were over oil. The rise and fall of oil prices could even impact the wealth and success of many countries, changing the structure of the world. If he was able to establish a foothold in the Southernmost Region, through the Osha Clan, he would acquire a stable oil source.

But for now, Roland would not concern himself with remote disputes. He would, however, keep it in the back of his mind and eventually stage this “once in a lifetime”.

“After I take the throne, I’ll find a way to get justice for you.” Roland again stopped Iron Axe from kneeling. “But, as for today, you violated an order of the First Army. You’re sentenced to two days of confinement and during these days, you’re to reflect on your actions.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Iron Axe happily replied.

“Then let us continue your training,” Roland said to the chief knight, “and, you’ll be responsible for the next march.”

Carter nodded.

Brian had thought that today’s training had already finished, however, everyone was still on the training ground, and no one dared to leave.

When Carter left with the prince, he ordered them to rest on site, but he had not dismissed them.

On his old patrol team, this type of situation would be unthinkable.

“Your Excellency, do you think His Excellency Iron Axe will come back?” asked Nail, from his team, “His actions just now startled me.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me like that.” Brian corrected him. “In the First Army, you should address me as Team Leader. His Highness told us to use military terms.” After he was knighted by Prince Roland, his rank within the army rose up. The rest of the team no longer talked to him, except for Nail. A short fellow who had been a miner before joining the platoon. He often came by to chat. According to Nail, he not only talked with a knight, he had even claimed to have had close conversations with Prince Roland himself too.

“This was a special situation… His Highness can’t blame him too much, right?” Although he agreed with this, Brian was not too sure about it. He once saw a civilian who had accidentally collided with a lord’s carriage killed on the spot by the lord’s guards. Iron Axe was a foreigner, and he had bowed to another while His Highness was present, even called her “Clan Leader”, no matter how you looked at it, it was a clear break of etiquette.

“My guess is that’ll be the case,” nodded Nail. “I’ve spoken to His Highness personally and he isn’t like other nobles, um…” He scratched his head, trying to find the right words. “Even though he looks like most nobles, he acts completely different.”

Brian also did not want something bad to happen to Iron Axe. After over a month of training together, he felt a deep sense of respect for him. Especially after he had taught them how to build a tent during their field training. They had all benefitted from his superb skills and his enjoyable teaching method. In Brian’s eyes, Iron Axe was even more suitable than Carter Lannis to be the commander of the First Army.

“They’re already back!” Nail brushed against Brian’s arm. “Hey, I can’t see His Excellency Iron Axe.”

Before his imagination could run wild, Carter had already ordered them to get into formation. Then, His Highness Roland stepped forward and began to give a speech. “The woman standing beside me is a witch, her name is Echo and she’s an acquaintance of Iron Axe, they have been separated for many years… However, because Iron Axe disrupted formation and violated the military rules, he has been sentenced, by me, to confinement for two days, as dictated by the rules. I’ll repeat this once more. You all now belong to the regular army, and the most important rule for a member of this army is to obey orders and maintain discipline! Do you understand this?”

“Yes! Your Highness!” Brian and the rest shouted. After hearing about Iron Axe’s fate, he finally calmed down. Nail, who was still next to him, was looking at him while making a wry face.

“In the next training exercise, Echo will aid you. Her ability allows her to imitate sounds, such as musical instruments, trumpets, and drums. The marching song that she’ll play next, will be the signal for you to act! Everyone has to move to the beat of the drums while maintaining your formation in one line.” Here, His Highness paused. “On the battlefield, Echo will be standing behind you. She’ll be the banner of the First Army, the soul of the Flintlock Squad! You’ll have to protect her at every cost! Now… everyone should become familiar with the melody.”

“What’s a marching song?” Brian was confused. “Is it something like the music they occasionally play in pubs? Is it appropriate to use that soft music to direct the march of the army?”

But, once he heard the melody coming out of Echo’s mouth, he instantly realized what His Highness had meant. The rhythm of the drum deeply affected him, which made him want to move forward while provoking his desire to fight.

This so-called “marching song” was a Battle Hymn that would encourage and motivate everyone on the battlefield.

Chapter 110: The Battle of Eagle City (Part I)

hrough the misty morning fog, Timothy Wimbledon could indistinctly see the flags flying on top of the city wall.

He raised his telescope, trying to make out the kamon on the flags. Most of the flags were green, each embroidered with a sailing ship and a crown on it. Undoubtedly, they belonged to his sister, Garcia Wimbledon.

The second most seen flag was a white flag, with a high tower which had a viper wrapped around it, and this belonged to the House Balya. “Ha.” He sneered in his heart. “Earl Balya, how shameless of you to keep your flag flying high after surrendering to the Queen of Clearwater. I’ll feed you your flags as soon as you fall into my hands, traitor!”

The least flown flag was red and it was embroidered with a high tower and a lion. This flag belonged to House Zita who was just as shameless as the rest. Timothy showed no external emotion even though in his heart he had already sentenced Arryn Zita, and Tommen Balya, to death. Of course, Arryn Zita also had to eat his flags.

“Sir Naim, raise the flags of the Kingdom of Graycastle!” Timothy commanded.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Frostwind Knight replied before galloping off to tell the army behind him. “The king orders to raise the flags!”

The new king turned his head and watched as one by one, the gray flags were being raised, flying high in the wind. The image was a black pattern depicting a huge tower with inclining and intercrossed spears on both sides making the flag look solemn. This was the emblem for the King of Graycastle, and any traitor would be beheaded before it.

As soon as news of the independence of Garcia reached his ears, he took immediate action by mobilizing the troops of the Eastern Region and the king’s city and then marching on Eagle City. Although in his heart he was terrified, he had maintained a calm face, giving the ministers who stood by his side, a boost of confidence.

It took almost a month to summon the landowners and troops, and then a week on the road to the Eastern Region, followed by half a month to reach here. Yesterday, Timothy finally arrived at Eagle City at sunset. Fortunately, the Months of Demons did not affect the king’s city much, therefore, the road in the Southern Territory was not hindered by snow. Instead, the frozen ground made the carts of food move even faster.

His army was quite large and mainly comprised of his own guards, the knightage of the king’s city, and the troops of Duke Frances Chlett of the Eastern Region. The three groups totaled to over 6,000 men, and up to 1,000 of them were well trained and armed knights. According to a reliable source, Garcia had no more than 3,000 men, most of whom were the freemen of Port of Clearwater. They might be qualified enough to plunder unarmed farmers or merchants, but they would never stand a chance against the knights.

Goude, his Treasurer, had advised that it was not a good time to call the army after the end of the Months of Demons because the farming in each land would start soon, and the lack of men would harm the harvest. Timothy took the advice. He allowed his landowners to keep their serfs and called the freemen on his land to take on the job of logistics and transportation. This way the spring farming would still take place even while they were fighting in the Southern Territory.

In any case, Timothy Wimbledon would never allow Garcia to stay in the Southern Territory. Eagle City, which was not as stoutly built, had been designated a trade market, situated in the middle of the peripheral towns. As time went on, the market grew into a young city with a history of less than a century. Furthermore, the previous lords intentionally left out the construction of a defensible wall to give the impression of a trade city. Garcia’s army that totaled 3,000 civilians and the men from the two earls was not large or strong in Timothy’s view. Accordingly, the quicker they reacted, the more of a chance they stood. If he offered Garcia enough time to organize the entire Southern Territory, she would be more difficult to defeat.

After a good night’s rest and full bellies, his troops were ready for war. As the sun rose changing from a bright orange into a radiating gold, the mist dissipated and the brown “wall” was revealed. This was not a wall but more of a bare soil slope, in the new king’s opinion. The incline made the slope easy to climb with just bare hands and feet, there was no need for ladders. On the top of the slope stood wooden bars, all the height of the men. While this might deter the refugees and thieves, it would not stop the trained soldiers.

The men guarding this “wall” were scattered and obviously not ready to defend the city.

“Your Majesty, the scout on the south gate reported that a large party is on the move.” Frostwind Knight rode to the new king and he reined in his horse to make his report.

Timothy handed his telescope over to Duke Frances and said in a relaxed voice, “It seems she intends to run away.”

The duke watched the city for a while before nodding. “She made a bold decision quickly. We’ll take them all if she plans on putting her men in Eagle City. She won’t be able to defend herself there for very long.” As the duke said this, he laughed. “As you predicted at the council meeting last night, our quick response caught her off guard.”

“We’ve arrived at the right time,” Timothy said, “She couldn’t slip away at night even if she intended to.”

“Exactly, to march the army at night would be taboo.” “If she does decide to move at night, her army will be scattered even if we don’t attack. It’s impossible to gather your men once they have scattered in darkness. Thus, she’s still doomed even if she does make it back to Port of Clearwater.”

“So, my dear sister has to wait until the break of dawn to retreat with the army.” Timothy looked at Eagle City, it was finally within his grasp. Filled with satisfaction, he believed his sister had done exactly as he had expected. Garcia had set up her army in Eagle City, a place she had desired for a long time. Strategically, seizing the house from the previous wards of the Southern Territory provided an advantage and allowed one to buy the loyalty of the noble in the south. And, yet the crisis came with it. Thinking ahead, he had deployed a decoy army to draw attention, while he secretly led the riders to the Eastern Region in advance. This left behind the infantries but allowed carts to secretly carry the war supply. After the decoy army had entered the Eastern Region, the duke would contribute to the troops to reinforce them. Then he would lead the march on Eagle City through the other side of the kingdom. As they moved forward, the riders would run ahead to block the road, in order to reduce the possibility of any information leaking from spies.

Garcia might have received the rough news two or three days before she decided to retreat her army at dawn, which, was a hasty march since there was no time for preparation. They would have to walk for a day to get from Eagle City to the Town of Clear Spring, and even so, they could never outpace his riders. As long as he rallied 1,000 riders to chase after her and pick off the enemy from behind, her funny Coalition would automatically collapse.

It was a pity that Garcia could still escape if she abandoned her 3,000 men and fled alone. If she did that it would be easy for her to reach Port of Clearwater alive.

He thought that hunting her down in her lair would end the farce.

“Your Majesty, do we split up according to the plan?” Duke Frances said, “Do you intend to cross the city at the south gate, and start the chase after I break into the city, or will you take a detour that’ll add time?”

“I think it’s better to take the detour to the southwest.” Timothy pondered for a while. “The narrow street would be inconvenient, and furthermore, Garcia might block the street with junk to hinder the riding troops. A detour, while it might cost us two extra hours, won’t affect the pursuit of the enemy.”

“Then it’s time for me to set out, Your Majesty.”

“Be careful.” Timothy warned him. “Garcia may not have left many of her troop behind in the city, but I assume there will be lots of traps. Moreover, be aware of the narrow streets or anyplace crowded with houses. This is where ambushes from Garcia’s loyal men are likely to take place.”

“Hahaha.” Duke Frances laughed brightly. “Please, trust me, Your Majesty. Since the wound I received from following your father into battle, I haven’t sustained one since. And, I have single-handedly beheaded hundreds of men. He waved his hand to the guards beside him. “Blow the horn and begin the attack!”

The army behind him started to surge, with some of the platoons moving out of formation. Led by knights, they marched towards Eagle City. They were the vanguards, made up of civilians. They were followed by armored mercenaries which were the main force of the siege. At the same time, the riders brought by the duke all rallied under his banner.

Timothy waited until the main army had attacked the wall before leading the rest of the knights and squires southwest.

Chapter 111: The War of The Eagle City (Part II)

he freemen who were treated as cannon fodder had successfully climbed up the slope without any resistance.

However, wooden barriers blocked their way. Rather than being tightly built with wooden logs, the barriers bore gaps that allowed spears to thrown through so that the defenders only needed to stand behind the barrier as they attacked the enemies with spears.

Yet, Duke Frances didn’t expect that the men that were guarding on top of the wall had disappeared leaving the outer-ring of the wall unguarded. The vanguards breached the barrier with axes and brought down a few logs before pouring into the top of the wall. After a while, the wooden gate was laid down as well.

“Let’s move,” Duke flicked the reins, leading the remaining army to march on. “It takes us not more than 30 minutes from the start to the lay-down of the gate. What is Garcia Wimbledon plotting?” Frances frowned. Anyone who had a little war experience would know that when the leader abandoned the city, he would leave behind some guards or buy some expensive gutsy men, who knew not fear of death, to resist the enemy and buy as much time as possible for the main army to retreat.

“Princess Garcia is no fool, after all she conquered the entire Southern Territory in such a short period of time. Why doesn’t she deploy the men to guard the wall? The defenses and traps, no matter how strong and tricky they are, will have no use when they are unmanned.” Duke Frances pondered and decided to send the guards into the city in advance to check on the situation.

The information that the Captain of the guards reported was the same as what they had seen on the wall, there was no resistance in the city either. Only some streets were barricaded by timbers and bricks, and his men had gathered the residents to clean the blockades.

Frances led the rest of the army into Eagle City without any hesitation. He believed that he, a proven veteran who had followed King Wimbledon III to war for many years, would not be scared stiff by a young girl. It seemed to Frances that Timothy had made the mistake since he could have saved a lot of time if he chose to cross the city after Frances took it.

As he passed through the gate, the Duke smelled something strong, it was not the rotten stink that was common on the battlefield but something like a mixture of pine nut oil, orange peel and incense. If drawing a deep breath, he could even smell fragrant.

“What is it?” He looked around and found nothing special. Since the ditch that was for draining water off the wall was plugged up, the sewage had overflowed and ran along the ground slowly. Moreover, the dirty accumulation that had been left alone for an unknown time was dark black, reflecting a colorful light pattern in the sun.

“Maybe it was the smell of the sewage,” Frances thought while shaking his head and walked into the castle with the platoon.

“Now that I’ve taken Eagle City, it’s natural to stroll around the lord’s castle and City Hall to check if there is anything valuable to take. Certainly, Garcia must have plundered the city. But there are still some larger crafts and decorations that will be appropriate booties. And the food carts are good enough to carry the booties after they’ve been roughly cleaned up. As for the mercenaries, they must be heading to the stores and farms.

Leave them alone. Anyway, Duke Joey is dead and no one knows whom will be the new lord. Robbing the entire city comes first.”

After he walked through the entire lord’s castle, Frances Chlett discovered something wrong.

The castle was too empty, he thought. He couldn’t even find any cloth or food in the basement, not to mention the gold. The wall where there should have been paintings on it was now blank and the bookcase had no books either. What’s queerer was that the bed in the lord’s chamber was gone too. The castle looked like it had been stripped.

How could they take away all these things when they were in a rushed retreat? Frances started to sense that the situation was not as good as he had thought. The castle wouldn’t be so empty unless they had started to transport these things early.

When he was about to head to the City Hall, a thick black smoke suddenly billowed over the North Gate.

“What’s wrong? Something caught on fire?”

“I have no idea my lord. I’ve sent Moliere to check it out,” The Captain said, “maybe it was the enemy who started a fire on purpose.”

At first the Duke thought it was a trap, but soon he realized that using the fire to block the gate was meaningless. If there were no men to join in and launch the attack, the fire would be quenched soon by any organized troops. Let alone the fact that the fire had little use to hold back the enemy since they could bypass the gate and climb the slope to get out.

The right tactic was to make the men lie in wait until the scattered fires disturbed the enemy, and then launch an attack and catching them by surprise. It was an effective way to mess up their formation or even force back the enemy. Like he had said before, an unmanned trap was no more than uselessness.

At this moment, the other three gates began to smoke too, and the fire in the North Gate became clear in sight, what’s worse, the fire flared up quickly. It seemed like the gate was stacked with straws to fuel the fire. There were people screeching somewhere in the city, perhaps because their houses caught a fire as well.

“This is not right…” The Duke thought, “when I entered the city through the North Gate, there was nothing to catch a fire there but an open space! But how could the fire spread so quickly without a tinder? Wait…” An idea flashed through his mind, “could it be that Garcia Wimbledon had recruited the witches in secret?”

Frances touched the God’s Stone of Retaliation that hung around his neck and felt relieved a little. With the stone that would protect him from evil, he could pass the witches fire with impunity. Furthermore, no evil harm would come to the guards either, for all of them were equipped with the stones. As for the freemen, who didn’t have enough money to contribute to the church, they were beyond the Duke’s consideration now.

Thinking that the city was a little weird, he decided to get out of the city first. The army could set camp at the South Gate, they could watch the city while waiting for the riders of the new king to return. As he thought of it, he commanded the Captain, “we move to the south and leave the city. You keep blowing the horn on the way to gather the platoons.”

“Yes!”

The crowd moved at once, however, when they approached the South Gate, the fire had spread to the residential area where acres of houses were burning, casting a heat wave that forced them back. The panicked citizens, who had hidden in their homes, now ran out and crowded the street, even breaking through the wall of blades and swords of guards and running to safe clearings in a fluster. All of a sudden, everyone seemed to sink in the sea of fire, surrounded by the thick smoke and the fierce fire.

“Calm down! Go and find the well. Fetch the water to put out the fire,” Duke Frances quickly gave a succession of orders, “let the houses alone. Just try to quench the fire on the blocks and clear out a road. Keep blowing the horn to make sure others know where we are.”

“Sir!” A rider raced from the center of the city and jumped down from the horse before drawing the reins. It was Moliere who was sent to the North Gate by the Captain. “My lord, there is no way to quench the fire at the North Gate.”

“What did you say?” Frances was in shock. “The fire can’t be quenched?”

“The fire is fueled by black water,” she said quickly, “The fire not only can’t be quenched by water but also flows along it! My lord, the entire north of the city is burning!”

“The flame that can’t be quenched…” he murmured, “it’s the fire of demons indeed.” The Duke shouted loudly, “everyone stay calm. It is the fire of demons set by the witches under Garcia’s command! As long as you wear the God’s Stone of Retaliation, the seemingly dreadful fire will not harm you!”

“I see. May God be merciful,” said Moliere , subconsciously touching her chest, “My lord, what should we do next?”

“You’ve the God’s Stone of Retaliation, so what’s there to fear? All of you mount your horses, let’s race through the fire,” the Duke said while waving his hand, “the evil fire will disappear as soon as it meets the God’s Stone!” He paused and said, “Moliere, you lead a platoon out first. I will stay here to gather the men yet to arrive.”

“Yes!” the Lady Knight nodded, “please take care, my lord. The rest of you, be alert and keep up.”

After that, she mounted and raced to the end of the scorching hot street, without hesitation.

Chapter 112: The War of Eagle City (Part III)

he knightsage of the king’s city cut into the tail of Garcia’s platoon like a sharp silver blade.

Panic surged through the crowd of enemies. Many men fell as they were scattering and running in a flurry, ending their lives miserably under the horse’s hoofs.

Occasionally there were some men that drew their weapons to resist, but they were pierced by the spears of the skilled knights. The one who raced in the front of the unstoppable knights, like the tip of the blade, was Frostwind Knight Naim Moor. The blue striped cloak flying behind him cast a particular conspicuous sight as he rushed ahead to clear the way. He fought fiercely to force back the enemies, causing his spear to be soaked with blood.

Timothy Wimbledon stood on a small slope far away from the battlefield watching the situation. At this moment, the tail of the platoon of 3,000 had become disordered, and as the scattering grew, the platoon almost halted.

“They can’t hold on much longer,” Timothy thought, “Her army will be defeated by two more rounds of strikes. The rabble of enemies is no match for the elite knights of Kingdom of Graycastle. Most of the enemies, who did not even have armor, only needed to be struck once for them to lose fighting capacity.

Just as he had expected, the detour took him two extra hours. The knightage had gone around Eagle City and then over a col, through a sparse wood, and finally back to the main road. After that, under his command of acceleration, the knights eventually caught up with Garcia’s army at noon.

According to what the duke had taught him, Timothy divided the knightage into three teams, each with 300 men that would take turns to strike the rear side of the enemy. In this way, he could save enough horses and men to mobilize and support the attack in the event of an emergency. In case of being besieged, rather than marching into the main crowd of the enemy, the knights only needed to be near the platoon from the flank before speeding up and dashing into the platoon. In this way, each time they could cut off a short piece of tail of the enemy’s platoon and cost them tens of men.

The tactic’s effect was obvious. After some rounds of strikes, the enemy had lost over 100 men, and they were unable to fight back. Although they also wanted to organize the riders to defend, they were poorly equipped and trained. Comparing to the knightage of the king’s city, their make-do riders were no more than the infantry mounted on horses. When the “riders” engaged in the battle with the knights, they could not help but to scatter and run away in the bloodshed.

The overwhelming slaughter lowered the morale of the enemy immensely. Timothy noticed that some of the men in Garcia’s platoon were abandoning the army and running away in other directions.

He thought it was time to launch a general offensive. Waiting until Frostwind Knight led the team back, he returned to the knightage from the slope instead of giving the order for the next round of strikes.

“Your Majesty, they’ll be soon dispersed,” Naim said as he dried the sweat on his forehead, the blood on his palm leaving some marks. It was the enemy’s blood. He had remained unharmed since the battle began.

Timothy pulled out his handkerchief and handed it over. “Well done. Take some rest before we launch the last strike.”

Noticing that the next round of strikes had not come from Timothy’s platoon, Garcia’s men were aware that the final battle was coming. The large platoon stopped marching and gathered slowly together into an assemblage. The outermost men held up the wooden spears.

Seeing their reaction, Timothy scoffed at it. “It is no more than the death struggle. Without any horses and armors, the flesh will never ward off the knightage of king’s city but end up in defeat. Whether Garcia was in the platoon will not change the result. Maybe she has run away long ago, leaving her army to buy her more time.”

But soon he found out that what he had thought was wrong.

Once again, the enemy raised the flag of the Queen of Clearwater, letting it fly in the wind. Timothy frowned as he caught sight of the sigil of a sailing ship and crown on the flag. Through the telescope, he watched the enemy. There was a blurred figure of a woman standing on a “stage that was made of some warriors. It seemed she was shouting something while raising her hands high. He could not see her face clearly but he recognized her gray hair.

It’s Garcia Wimbledon. Why doesn’t she run away?

Timothy took a deep breath. “Very well, in this fashion, the farce will be ended earlier here, saving me the trouble of marching to Port of Clearwater.”

The new king waited until the horses had enough rest before giving the order of a general offensive attack.

Under the leadership of the knightage of the king’s city, the 800 riders, which were made of knights and squires, started to march on the enemy. Frostwind Knight Naim Moor, still raced in the front like the tip of the blade.

When the knights were about to charge into the enemy, a large group of riders emerged on the horizon of the east and the west sides. Accompanied with their weird shriek and shout, they galloped all the way to the center of the battlefield.

Timothy widened his eyes in disbelief. “Who are these people?”

The troop that burst in had no flag or kamon, and was different from any forces in the kingdom. Watching through the telescope, Timothy found that most of them were without armor and equipped with various weapons. To Timothy’s knowledge, only one kind of people had the same sturdy figures and strange faces of theirs.

They were from Sand Nation in the Southernmost Region.

There was no need for him to guess which side they stood with. “Obviously, Garcia has struck a bargain with Sand Nation so that they’ll interfere with the game of the thrones of the Kingdom of Graycastle. Damn foreigners!” As Timothy was thinking about this his rage soared, he turned to shout, “Blow the horn. call the knights back!”

But it was too late for the galloping army to turn around easily. The knightage had rushed into Garcia’s platoon, piercing to where the Queen of Clearwater was standing like cutting through butter with a hot knife.

Timothy looked at the flying flag eagerly, hoping it would snap and fall down. “With the 1,000 soldiers from Sand Nation flanking on each side, the number of Garcia’s army is up to 5,000 men, which is beyond the number of my knights. Meanwhile, the soldier from Sand Nation, who is valiant and tough, will threaten the knightage enormously in the close battle. My only chance lies in the possibility that the knights could kill the leader of the enemy and bring down the flag.”

Yet the flagpole only shook a little and kept standing in the platoon.

Once the soldiers from Sand Nation had surrounded their enemy, they marched into the battlefield following the corridor cleared by the knightage.

If there were no reinforcements, Garcia’s 3,000 desperadoes would have scattered. Yet, the game had changed. They were holding out and swallowed the knights one by one, like a swamp.

The horn calling for the retreat was echoing in the battlefield. One after another, the knights were gathering towards Timothy. However, many men remained trapped within the confines of the enemy’s platoon, and Frostwind Knight was one of them.

He was panting with the effort to deal with a foreign warrior with a height of almost three meters that waved a giant stick to clear away the men around them. With the horse being killed under the bash of the stick, Naim now tried his best to dodge the strike. His extraordinary reaction and agility had helped him a lot, but yet the thick, heavy armor wore him out quickly. Finally, he tumbled at a dodge and was hit right in the chest by the flying stick. The hit was so hard that the plate caved in and the stick was broken into two parts.

The flying blue cloak fell slowly and disappeared in the crowd.

After an hour, the knights who were still standing had lessened. When Timothy saw that the soldiers from Sand Nation turned their eyes to where he was, he gritted his teeth and commanded the army to withdraw. The rest of army started to retreat to the north. After the battle, there were only 300 men left with the new king, considerably less than the large platoon that had started the war.

Chapter 113: An Alert

ince the end of the Months of Demons this year, the Western Region had multiple sunny days in a row, with only two rounds of rain. These nice days made up for the gloomy weather of the past winter. The musty smell in Roland’s office had gone. He was able to breathe fresh air now. Sometimes, he could even smell a pleasant, faint scent of flowers in the garden if he opened his window.

As the road between the town and Longsong Stronghold had restored its service by now, Roland started to pay particular attention to the development of the stronghold.

Based on what he had observed last year, he had expected that after the traffic was back to normal again, merchants from Longsong Stronghold would have come to Border Town to sell daily necessities. However, he had not seen a single merchant from the stronghold to this day. He ordered Lightning to patrol twice a day, as a way of making sure that the town would be well prepared when his enemy came.

In the recent week, the First Army had been busy with a comprehensive military manoeuver including defense line battling and field attack. The former was relatively easier, as the artillerymen and the Flintlock Squad only needed to act according to the signals given by Lightning. She would stay up in the sky to observe and would raise different flags to report the target distance to the soldiers when she spotted an enemy. After seeing different signals, the team leaders would give corresponding commands to their soldiers. They would shoot solid shells when the target distance was between 500 to 800 meters and grapeshots for enemy forces within 300 meters. If the enemy was less than 50 meters away from them, they would directly fire with flintlocks.

As for the field attack, it was a key part of Roland’s plan. It generally took three days to reach the town from Longsong Stronghold by land, so Roland calculated that his enemy would need the same amount of time to flee back to the stronghold when they were defeated. Even if the knights left all the militia and mercenary soldiers behind, they would still need at least two days to withdraw. That meant, they would have to spend at least one night camping in the wild. Roland planned to order the First Army to secretly follow the enemy on foot and take this chance to launch a surprise attack at them. He would let Lightning monitor the whole process, in case that the First Army got too close to alert the enemy. Meanwhile, cannons and ammunition would be transported by the Littletown. The first army soldiers would surround the enemy’s battalion at night after they pitched their tents, and the next morning, his soldier would besiege and crush the enemy.

It was not a complicated plan, but without radio communication, it was almost impossible to oversee the situation where his army had to be divided into two parts to besiege the enemy. Roland had to put a witch in his plan to make up for the communication inconvenience, but he was still not fully confident about this arrangement.

Another problem that he faced was the low reserves of gunpowder. Given that, the recent comprehensive military exercise did not shoot live ammunition. Instead, the maneuver just focused on training combined actions of the Flintlock Squad and the Artillery Squad and coordination between the witch and the First Army. Roland had sent people to farther Fallen Dragon Ridge and Redwater City, hoping to find more saltpeter suppliers. If he failed to replenish the gunpowder stock for the First Army in time, the soldiers could only use the flintlocks as spears after two more battles.

Roland wrote down his new purchasing plan on a paper, which included saltpeter, grains and seeds. He intended to ask Barov to send one of his apprentices to the king’s city of the Kingdom of Graycastle, as there were plenty of goods, especially saltpeter. Summer was near, the niter plant of the king’s city must be in full operation now, as nobles and wealthy merchants there would consume a huge amount of saltpeter in hot weather. Roland hoped that he could find a long-term supplier who could constantly purvey this gunpowder material for Border Town.

Before this, he had already sent two of his guards to implement two plans respectively, which were “Calling for Witches” and “Seeking Seeds”. One guard under the guise of a traveler or a merchant went to spread the rumor that Border Town was calling for witches in streets, taverns and black markets. Of course, he would not say that Prince Roland was accepting witches. He would say it was the Witch Cooperation Association who finally found Holy Mountain and welcomed witches to join. The other guard went directly to Port of Clearwater to buy seeds of extraordinary plants from the Fjords. If he found some other rare crops, he would also bring the plants and their seeds back to Border Town.

Roland gave Scroll the purchasing list he made and asked her to give it to Barov in the City Hall. When Scroll left, he stretched out to relax and wanted to drink some water, but found his cup was empty.

When he was to rise and get the kettle, Nightingale had already brought it to him. With a smile on her face, she stood in front of his desk to fill his cup and then put the kettle back.

Roland took a sip slowly, feeling really puzzled. “Nightingale’s attitude has somehow changed. She smiles at me a lot and now even voluntarily serves as a tea girl. Is she suggesting a pay rise to me? She used to sit on the couch and spend the whole afternoon eating her dried fish.”

Roland had asked Nightingale about her change, but instead of answering him, she had only given him a smile. After that, Roland just let her do what she wanted.

An idea suddenly struck him. “Is it because of Gwent? If it can really attract and please the people of this era that much, I should build a Chess & Card center offering poker games and mahjong later. It’ll definitely bring me considerable profits… No, stop. It’s not the time to enjoy my life yet.” Roland shook his head to banish those thoughts and focused on what he was going to do after he seized the stronghold.

He had thought for a long time whether he needed to relocate to Longsong Stronghold. Moving the capital to a more prosperous place seemed very enticing, but might not be a good choice in this case. Unlike Border Town, the stronghold had a history of over 100 years. There were many nobles, making the situation quite complicated. In a feudal system, each domain was controlled by its own lord. Under such circumstances, even the lord of the stronghold could hardly have a say in the domains of his subordinate nobles. If Roland wanted to make the stronghold his own, he needed a radical revolution. He thought he had better not move to the stronghold where fish swam with dragons and where he could not even guarantee his own safety. He did not want to get shot by arrows in the back when he was taking a walk on a street there.

Border Town, however, was completely under his own control. It also offered him a vast territory, saving him the trouble of expanding his domain. Most residents of the town were miners and hunters, making the situation quite simple. With his success during the Months of Demons, he had won wide recognition among the people here. More importantly, most of his subjects had already accepted the witches due to the propaganda of the First Army. Compared with Longsong Stronghold and the other cities which were heavily influenced by the church, it was easier for him to develop the town into a home for both ordinary people and witches. After careful consideration, Roland decided to make Border Town the central area of his domain.

As for the stronghold, he could appoint an agent and let him manage the place for him, as long as the agent could offer him workforce and taxes that he needed most right now.

Roland had an initial plan to use Longsong Stronghold’s wealth to hire its people for the development of Border Town. He conceived to return the gold royals he got from the defeated nobles to the people of the stronghold, and then he would collect taxes through the stronghold government and spend them again. Besides, he also decided to carry out some favorable policies to attract people with desired skills to settle down in Border Town.

That was a general frame of his plan. He would not have time to consider the details of the plan, such as how to appoint and supervise an agent, and how to make specific tax policies, until the end of the upcoming battle.

At the moment, a golden figure dashed into the room through the window and landed steadily in front of the prince’s desk. That was Lightning.

“Drink some water first,” Roland gave her a cup of water and said. Lightning picked up the cup but did not have the time to drink. She hurriedly reported to Roland, “Your Highness, they’re coming!”

Chapter 114: The Sound of Thunders

he alliance army from the stronghold was marching steadily toward Border Town

A knightage formed by the knights from the six big families of the stronghold was leading the army. Inequality of power among the families could easily be seen from the armors and outfits of their knights. Duke Ryan’s knights were certainly the most eye-catching ones. With a significant air, they all rode on short-tailed horses imported from the king’s city. These horses were good at long-distance races and looked much taller and stronger than the other ones. The knights wore unified, shinning armors that were specially made by “Hammer and Dragon Tooth” Blacksmith’s shop. A huge lion head was carved into the thick chest armor and a wolf head into each shoulder armor. The lifelike animal heads seemed to be roaring with their mouths wide open. There were also fine patterns on their cloaks and red silk belts around their waists.

Duke Ryan’s knights did not only have the look. Each of them had indeed accumulated lots of battling experiences. They had to wipe out the remaining demonic beasts out of the city every year after the Months of Demons, as a way of ensuring smooth land traffic. In terms of personal fighting skills, they were as good as the members of the knightage of the king’s city. They were only less in number, compared with the king’s knightage. However, for a duke, it was already a huge expenditure to support such an elite knightage of 150 members.

Looking at this elite troop, Duke Ryan was satisfied and absolutely confident that with them, and he would be invincible in the Western Region.

The mercenary fighters were walking casually behind the knightage. They were poorly equipped compared with the knights. Most of them wore old and incomplete chain mails or plate armors. Some had no hand protectors and some no helmets. They carried various kinds of weapons, walking and laughing loudly in groups of two or three. They seemed to be going for a spring outing instead of a battle.

Some free civilians were also press-ganged into the army by the lord. They were plodding on slowly after the mercenary fighters, dragging single-wheel carts filled with foods and tent parts. Due to the speed differences, this army of 1,500 people marched in a really long procession. The knights in the front of the line had to stop every now and then to wait for the troops behind them.

“My lord,” Hirte Medde, Earl of the Elk Family, pulled the rein to catch up with the duke and said, “We’re going to arrive at Border Town in less than half a day. If things go smoothly, we’ll get there at 4 p.m. Are we going to rest for a night and reorganize the army for the battle next morning or directly launch an attack against the lord’s castle?”

“Do you want to sleep in the wild again?” The duke smiled and said, “Tonight, we should lie in beds in the castle instead of the damp earth. Of course, as a courtesy to a royal prince, I’ll send a messenger to persuade him first when we arrive at Border Town.”

Earl Honeysuckle who was slightly ahead of them, turned around to join the discussion. “Our knights have been traveling all day. They and their horses are both tired now. Is it appropriate to launch an attack under such circumstances? We’d better be careful. After all, Roland Wimbledon successfully survived the Months of Demons with just his miners.”

“Hah-hah, my old friend. I don’t know others, but even you don’t know the demonic beasts? They’re indeed dreadful opponents in the wild, as they’re incredibly fast and powerful, but they’ll become easy targets when they’re blocked out by a city wall. Demonic beasts are just beasts after all.” Hearing this, the Earl of the Elk Family shrugged and added, “Yes, I agree. Though the prince really surprised me by building a city wall so fast, my knights are not dumb beasts who’ll be stopped by a wall.”

“Exactly, and I’ve received a piece of news from the north. Hermes nearly fell into ruins, as a huge amount of demonic hybrid beasts attacked Holy City this year for some unknown reason. That means, most of the demonic beasts aimed at Hermes, and only a few of them came to the Western Region,” Duke Ryan said casually.

After the Western Region was under his total control, he did not want to confine himself to this remote area anymore. He placed informants who constantly provided him with the most recent news in all the major cities and towns. For him, the bloody battles against demonic beasts in the Northern Region were not as important as another war depicted in a secret report from Palisade City. According to the report, Timothy, the new king, and Garcia, Queen of Clearwater had already fought a fierce battle in Eagle City, but based on the previous information he had got, Timothy’s army should arrive at Eagle City a month later.

The report did not mention the process of the war, but described the situation of Timothy and that of Eagle City when the new king had retreated from Palisade City. Timothy who had led an army of thousands of people to the war had left the city with only a few of his soldiers. He had not even been able to block roads again. At the same time, Eagle City had been caught in the fire. Raging flames had lit up the sky, and black smoke sprang up to reach the clouds. The residents of the surrounding cities and towns had all witnessed the scene.

No matter whether the Queen of Clearwater had survived the war or not, Timothy had apparently suffered a heavy loss and a great shock. Stirred by the news, on the same day he had received the secret report, Duke Ryan had sent out his trusted men to the king’s city and the Eastern Region, hoping to find out the current situation of Timothy. If this war between the new king and the Queen of Clearwater truly shattered the Timothy regime, he would not hesitate to add fuel to the fire.

This was definitely the best chance for him to declare independence and become a king himself. The Northern Region had seen many of its soldiers buried near the Holy City during the fighting against demonic beasts. The south needed time to recuperate after the recent war. As for the Eastern Region and the king’s city, if what the secret report had said was true, Timothy would also need several years to recover. At this moment, if he could conquer the Northern Region and draw some nobles over to join his side, he would be able to split Kingdom of Graycastle. When that happened, he was going to build his own kingdom which would be as large and populous as Kingdom of Everwinter in the north and be able to compete with the remaining Southern and Eastern Regions of Kingdom of Graycastle.

As to him, Osmond Ryan, would become the first king of this new kingdom.

The duke smiled in satisfaction at this thought. He hoped that he could end this farce quickly today and head home tomorrow, bringing the prince as a captive. With any luck, he would be able to receive good news from his informants in his own castle three days later.

When the sun was almost sinking down into the mountains, Ryan saw a vague silhouette of Border Town… and a dense crowd of people outside it.

“Father and Your Grace, those people seem to be Prince Roland’s guards with weapons in their hands. It doesn’t look like a welcome.” Rene Medde who was in charge of guiding the army in the front hurried back and reported.

“It’s good, at least we don’t have to go to the castle to invite him out,” Earl of the Elk Family said while smiling, “Tell the knights to slow down. We still have a long way to go before the charge.”

“Yes, father.” Rene received the order and left.

Duke Ryan raised a telescope in front of his eye to look at the princes’ guards. They were in a strange formation, standing densely in two rows and carrying weird weapons in their hands. Those weapons looked like pikes without pointed metalheads and their handles seemed too short. It just did not make sense to the duke that the prince arranged his guards in this formation. Such a thin, weak defense line would be easily broken through when knights charged toward it.

Seeing that, the duke thought in bewilderment, “Even if the prince has no military knowledge, why did his knights and guards just let him mess things up?” In order to make sure what the prince was planning, the duke decided after a thought to order the mercenary fighters to charge in the beginning of the battle, and the knights to wait for order in the charge distance.

As he had promised before, he needed to send a messenger to persuade Roland first. Duke Ryan sent for a guard and said to him, “You go to tell the prince that I don’t mean to hurt him. It’s only the order from King Timothy Wimbledon. If he surrenders to me now, he won’t be harmed. I’ll escort him back to King’s City.”

It took time for a large army to assemble. When the knights were taking up their positions one after another on both sides, the mercenary fighters were still slowly heading for the center of front line. Right at the moment, four flashes of flame dazed Duke Ryan’s eyes, and green smokes rose up after those transitory bright flames. The duke frowned at this scene, thinking he must be deceived by his eyes. He was about to pick up the telescope to look again when there came a series of loud bangs that sounded like thunders.

Chapter 115: Defending Border Town (Part I)

an’er immediately saw those well-equipped knights in shiny armors riding on tall horses and steadily moving toward the town when the distant enemy first came into his sight. He gasped at the sight of this scene. There was a knight in the town, who always looked down upon people like him, and now here came nearly a hundred of them.

Van’er felt that his hands started to sweat again, just like what had happened to him when he had stood on top of the city wall fighting against demonic beasts for the first time. This time, he thought that he and his enemy, the noble alliance army of Longsong Stronghold, were at least of his own species.

“No, my own species? When did those nobles treat you as an equal?” He spat and mocked himself internally and put those thoughts behind. The Stronghold Coalition came here to capture Border Town and control the North Slope Mine area again. More importantly, they even claimed to banish His Highness from the Western Region. That was totally unacceptable for all soldiers of the First Army.

The soldiers knew from a pre-battle speech made by His Highness yesterday that Timothy Wimbledon, an elder brother of His Highness, had killed King Wimbledon III, the late king, and had seized the throne through scheme and tricks. Van’er usually cared nothing about nobles’ plotting against each other, as he believed it made no difference to him no matter who was the king. However, he thought Duke Ryan who coveted the domain of His Highness in the current disruption was really way out of line.

Van’er had witnessed lots of positive changes that His Highness had brought to the town since he had become the lord here. He also clearly remembered the previous lord, who seemed to be an earl. People in the town had seldom seen him except when he had come out to buy furs with his guards. He had often purchased best quality furs from hunters at low prices and had always been the first one to flee in Months of Demons, leaving all his subjects in the slums of the stronghold. He had never concerned about the sufferings of people.

His Highness was different. Under his governance, the life of the town was obviously getting better for all the locals. The miners could be paid more for more work. His Highness had installed a black machine into the mine of Northern Slope to boost production, but he still attributed the extra output to the miners and increased their personal incomes. The locals of the town, who took part in building city wall or crushing stones in the mine, were all paid timely. No one was starved or froze to death this winter.

The biggest change in the town was the Militia, now called the First Army. Protected by soldiers, the locals of the town did not have to huddle up in their cold wooden sheds and beg big shots for food in winter. Van’er asked himself secretly, “If the prince is banished, will the Duke allow the First Army to exist?”

He took a deep breath and wiped his hand sweats with his clothes while thinking. “No, he won’t. The nobles of the stronghold won’t give a damn about people of the town. Just like what His Highness has said, only an army of people will fight for people.”

He lifted his head to look up to the left and saw a black point hovering up in the sky. It could be easily mistaken as a big-headed bird, but actually, it was the firing commander of the artillery squad, Lightning. She flew in the sky to investigate the enemy’s movements while well covering herself with trees on both sides of the main road. When she flew back, Van’er noticed that the treetops overhead indeed made it impossible for the people below to see her. That meant, if the witch did not fly to an open place by herself, all the enemy could see were branches of trees when they looked up.

15 minutes ago, Lightning had flown close to Border Town’s defense line to show them a green ribbon.

Seeing it, Van’er knew at once that the enemy was within 1,000 meters. Now he must immediately command their artillerymen to get ready for firing. In fact, Van’er did not know how long “1,000 meters” was. He only gave orders based on the rules he had learned during the maneuver. He quickly shouted out the correct order, instructing the team to reload cannons and correct angles.

Four mortar teams quickly switched angles of cannons to the third gear and filled the bores with gunpowder and solid shells, thus finishing the whole preparation process.

After that, Van’er still felt nervous. His heart had been palpitating all the time since the moment the army had assembled in the afternoon. He had considered himself an experienced leader, as he had fought against demonic beasts on top of the city wall, but today he found that he had still a long way to go before becoming a good team leader like Iron Axe or Brian. Both of them had calmly led their teams to the shooting positions, and he had even sensed a tinge of excitement from Brian’s voice just now when he had been giving orders. Even his buddy, Rodney seemed to be better than him. That made him feel a little depressed.

He licked his dry lips and started to search for Lightning again.

At the moment, the enemy forces suddenly slowed down.

“What’re they doing?” Rodney asked.

“I don’t know.” Cat’s Claw widened his eyes to look at the enemy. “They seem to be adjusting the formation, and their people look quite messy.”

“They’re waiting for the troops behind,” Jop said with a shaking voice. “Knights won’t fight alone. They’re certainly followed by a large number of people.”

“Oh? How do you know that?” Nelson twitched his mouth and asked.

“I’ve seen it. One knight will take at least two squires and a dozen serfs who carry food,” Jop said while counting on his fingers, “You see, a Duke of Longsong Stronghold must have at least 100 knights. He has at least 300 people who can fight on horseback other than the earls, viscounts in the stronghold…There’re even more! And they’ve hired many mercenary fighters. Those guys are cold-blooded, professional killers! But there’re only 300 of us.”

“Nearly 300 of us.” Van’er corrected him silently in his heart, but he actually felt better knowing that someone was even more nervous than him. Only about 270 soldiers of the Flintlock Squad were equipped with weapons, due to the insufficient production capacity, a phrase said by His Highness. As a result, the Flintlock Squad soldiers without guns were relocated in the mortar teams to carry ammunition for the four cannons.

“The mercenary fighters, they’re coming!” Jop said in a low voice.

Van’er looked up and saw a group of people dressed in various clothes gradually taking the central position in the enemy’s formation. They did not ride horses or march in lines. In groups of two or three, they gathered in the center. The knights were moving to the sides, leaving the central space for them. In less than 10 minutes, the alliance army of the duke’s had gotten much closer to him again.

In a sudden, a knight rapidly galloped out of the army and headed to Border Town. Van’er’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. He almost shouted out the firing order.

“What’s he going to do?” Confused as he was, he looked up but still could not see Lightning. The knight was getting closer and closer while waving a white flag in his hand.

“He’s the messenger of the duke. He’s probably coming to persuade us to surrender,” Jop mumbled.

“That’s none of our business,” Rodney said and then squatted down behind the cannon to align his eye with the central line of the cannon barrel. “Sir, the cannon needs to be readjusted, as most of the knights have already left the central part.”

The soldiers were taught repeatedly during the maneuver when they had conducted solid shell practices that a shell’s point of fall was in line with the cannon barrel. Given that, if they wanted to hit their target, they needed to adjust the cannon barrel until its central line aligned with the target. Five soldiers worked together to move the canon’s carriage a little, so as to aim precisely at the knights in the front of the alliance army again.

The messenger arrived and was brought by His Excellency Carter to the back of the defense line, but Van’er knew clearly that it was only a waste of time, as His Highness would never surrender to the duke.

Right at the moment, Lightning put on a burst of speed, flying toward the town with a yellow ribbon in hand.

The yellow ribbon flapping in the wind indicated that the enemies were within 800 meters. At this distance, they were able to hit targets with solid shells from the cannons. At the meantime, the mortar teams could fire freely as long as the captain of artillerymen did not forbid it.

Seeing the signal, Van’er’s team members all looked at him. He nodded, took a deep breath and then ordered, “Fire!”

Chapter 116: Defending Border Town (Part ?)

ue to limited physical strength, horses carrying knights could only maintain a high-speed in a short time. As a general rule, in a charge, the knights would let their horses trot first when the enemy was around 800 to 1,000 meters away. They would speed up once the distance was shortened to 500 meters and sprint for the last 200 meters.

Theoretically, the shooting range of a 12-pound Napoleon cannon was 1,300 meters for solid shells, but the cannons designed and made by Roland tended to miss targets over 1,000 meters away, which might result from a small ratio of the barrel caliber to the barrel length. To ensure a high hit ratio, he made it a rule that artillerymen could only fire when an enemy was within 800 meters. In this way, shells would also be very destructive especially to a crowd of enemies as they would bounce forward on the ground after landing.

As Duke Ryan had ordered mercenary fighters to charge first, all the knights were standing by in a charge distance. This was usually a distance of absolute safety, as the enemy’s arrows could never shoot that far. Meanwhile this distance also gave knights enough space to speed up their horses step by step during a charge. The slow assembling of mercenary fighters made the knights hold their horses to wait in their positions. In this way, they became easy, fixed targets for the mortar teams.

By now, the duke’s army had already unknowingly stepped on Roland’s planned battleground. They could only see a flat, wide main road in the middle, with green grasslands on both sides, but those seemingly ordinary grasslands were actually full of plants grown by Leaf for special purposes. Hidden in the knee-high grasses, stout vines worked as heel ropes to prevent the knights from swiftly outflanking the First Army from the sides. Within 1,000 meters on this battleground, there were distances marks left by Soraya, which were also invisible to the people on the ground. Up in the sky, however, Lightning could clearly see that the battlefield was split into segments by different color marks. Each colored mark represented a certain distance from the defense line. From above, the enemies seemed to march on a straight ruler. That saved the Artillery Squad the trouble of calculating and correcting angles by themselves before firing. They just needed to act according to steps that they had learned in their previous manoeuver.

Van’er’s team was the first to fire their 12-pound cannon at the enemies.

A gust of air caused by the explosion of gunpowder sent a shell out of the barrel and flying at a speed of over 400 meters per second in the air. In the blink of an eye, it struck the ground with a whistling sound. It passed between two knights and finally fell into the grassland aside. The earth and crushed stones flying in all directions startled the horses. One of the knights had even fallen down from his horse before realizing what had happened.

Two following shells also missed their targets. They only created more dust and dirt springing up into the air.

In the first round of firing, only the fourth shot of the four cannons turned out to be lucky. There had been nothing in front of the iron ball, but then an unlucky knight happened to step into the area where the shell struck. His armors were of no use facing a high-speed iron ball. It broke the thin layer of iron and went through his body. After that, it bounced on the ground, hit and broke another knight’s calf and then cut open his horse’s tummy. The inner organs of the horse poured all over the ground.

The artillerymen would have to readjust for the next round of firing, if the knightage were accelerating their horses. However, the sudden strike apparently shocked the duke’s alliance army. The knights did not receive any order to attack and still stayed in their positions, trying to calm down their frightened mounts. They did not know where those iron balls came from and how they came, as naked eyes could hardly observe objects flying at such a high speed.

Van’er’s team reloaded the cannon as fast as they could to start the second round of shooting.

Hot weapon attacks were more than what flesh and blood could bear. Even rubbing against a fast-moving iron ball could severely injure a human body. The knight hit directly by the shell was blown to bits. His blood gushed out, forming clusters of blood mist in the air. The soldiers of the alliance army could only catch a glimpse of a black item when it bounced on the ground. It looked like a black ghost slaughtering their comrades.

After the two rounds of attack, the duke finally linked pieces together. He sank into thought. “The flames and the loud sounds must have something to do with the sudden strikes. The enemy forces seem to have some incredible weapons that shoot much farther than crossbow bolts. They may have the same firing range as mangonels of the stronghold.” At this thought, the duke gave the knights the order to charge by having a soldier blow a horn, as he believed that weapons for long-range strikes would not work once the distance was shortened.

Hearing the horn, the knights reacted quite differently. Some of them followed the order and quickened their pace, heading for the town. Some were still trying everything to calm down their mounts. A small number of them were even retreating at the moment. The mercenary fighters rushed toward the sides where the knights stood, making the formation in utter disorder.

Seeing the knights taking their positions on the main road and getting ready to charge, mortar teams stirred at once. Apart from cleaning bores and reloading cannons, this time, they needed to move the cannon carriages again, as they saw a red ribbon in Lightning’s hand when she returned to the sky above the defense line.

A red signal meant that the enemy forces were only 500 meters away. That was the cannons’ point-blank range. At this distance, they had an 80% hit rate.

Van’er cried out, “Remain flat! Be quick, fire, fire!”

He did not even stop to look at the situation of the enemy when deafening noises of explosion died down. Instead, he directly turned around and shouted to the soldiers in charge of distributing ammunition. “Grapeshot! Give me grapeshot!”

During artillery training, His Highness had emphasized many times that once they saw red signals, they must reload their cannons with grapeshot and fire at the enemy forces when they were within 300 meters. His Highness had also reminded them that they must shoot out all the solid shells in the bore first before reloading grapeshot if their cannon was not empty.

Looking like an iron can on the outside, grapeshot was a cylinder stuffed with small iron balls and sawdust. Before the soldiers put the grapeshot in the bore, they needed to reload gunpowder and stuff a thin, wooden board inside the barrel, as grapeshot’s diameter was smaller than that of the bore.

The moment Lightning raised a purple signal, four cannons fired all at once.

This was the first time for Van’er to shoot real grapeshot. The artillerymen including him had only received training without ignition because His Highness said that it was difficult to collect and reuse grapeshot. Today, he witnessed how destructive it could be for the first time.

After the grapeshot flew out of the muzzle, its iron container violently broke open due to huge pressure differences. The iron balls inside rained on the knights within 300 meters like a downpour. Blood gushed out of the knights and their horses. The grapeshot shot down a crowd of enemies as easily as reaping wheat. Some iron balls could even maintain a high speed after they went through a human body. When that happened, even hiding behind someone else could not save a knight’s life.

There were still some lucky knights who escaped the iron ball shower and came to the sprint distance. They all lowered their upper bodies and rode forward at the highest speed, with only one thought in mind, which was breaking the weak defense line and killing the cowards who had been hiding behind it and operating those vicious weapons all the time. At their current speed, the knights only need less than two minutes to finish this 150-meter sprint.

However, it turned to be extremely hard for them to complete this short distance of 150 meters. The last round of grapeshot firing totally destroyed their will to fight. Within 100 meters, the undeformed, high-speed iron balls could go through two to three people at once. A cone-shaped area in front of each muzzle now was a realm of death. Each of the fastest 20 knights ended up dead. The only difference was how many shots he had got before he fell down.

The knightage collapsed.

Nothing could save this routed troop now. The frightened knights in the back of the troop pulled their horses, trying to flee the field.

Seeing the knights escaping, mercenary fighters would naturally refuse to move any step forward. They did risk their lives in battles for money but they never defy death. Now it was apparently the time to flee, and they were running much faster than they had when they had come to the battle.

The panic quickly struck the whole of Duke Ryan’s army, making the situation out of control. Soldiers pushed their way to flee the battleground. Those people who were knocked down on the ground were stamped to death. Everyone was too busy running away to attend to others, wishing they could grow two extra legs.

At the same time, Guerillas’ Song rang on the battleground. Borden Town’s infantry marched out in lines to clean the field.

Chapter 117: The Pursue and Attack (Part I)

his was the first time for Carter Lannis to see such a battle.

A large team composed of 300 knights was already devasted without even scratching the edge of their defense line.

Even at the end, they were not able to enter the 50-meter zone. Prince Roland marked it as the Flintlock Squad shooting line. Everyone was only allowed to fire when the enemy crossed the 50-meter line.

The four cannons forced the enemies to dwell at the 100-meter line mark. In the zone between 100 meters to 150 meters, there were about 20 corpses lying on the ground, who, just like Carter, were all skillful knights. Had they not of been skillful knights, they would not have been able to advance at high speed on their horse among the blistering gunfire.

Carter was glad that he was not one of those sacrificed knights. He vaguely felt that the wars in the future would be distinctly different than the ones before. Roland Wimbledon, who held such formidable power, would inherit the throne sooner or later.

Some men of the First Army were experiencing dizziness and nausea after seeing such horrifying battle scenes. Since it was not close combat, the impact of killing enemies with cannon would be much less than killing enemies with their own hands. Therefore, the reactions were not too severe. Carter picked a group of hunters who used to see blood and stumps, and ordered them to collect the corpses and search for any surviving men.

The sun gradually fell into the mountains and Carter stared at the blood-red sky, listening to the humming of crows from the faraway woods. He suddenly felt a sense of forlornness.

The era of the knight was over.

…

Duke Ryan was still in a state of bafflement.

He could not understand how they lost. That defense line seemed so vulnerable as if it would be penetrated by one light stab. However, the knights fled as though they had seen demons. He could not even blame the others because the ones in the forefront of the troop were his most elite knights.

The guards chopped down several people to divert the swarming mercenaries from the duke’s location. However, that was all he could do. No matter how he shouted, he could not control his deviated subordinates. Without any choice, Duke Ryan had to retreat about 10 miles with the crowd.

Once night had fallen, the duke chose a place near the river to set up base camp. The separated knights and mercenaries approached under torchlight. There were still many lost members and the worst part was that the freedmen left carts and food when they retreated. The duke and the other members had to kill a couple of horses for food.

In the largest tent, the nobles from five prominent families gathered together. They looked at Duke Ryan with ghastly pale faces. Duke Ryan was carrying a solemn expression himself.

“Who can tell me what weapon they’re using? The distance was farther than crossbow bolts could reach, but it was unlike the mangonel from which we could see the stones being tossed.” He glanced at Rene Medde. “You were moving in the front line, did you see anything?”

“My lord, I, I’m not so sure,” Rene answered, holding his head, “I could only hear the gunfire, and then the knights collapsed group by group. Especially the last fire, it looked like the knight who was racing at the forefront bumped into an invisible wall. I saw his body shaking, and his head and limbs were scattered, just like…” He thought for a moment. “An egg that was thrown off from the top of the castle.”

“Perhaps it was witches?” the Earl of the Elk Family mumbled.

“Impossible.” The Duke frowned. “All my knights were wearing the God’s Stone of Retaliation. Witches won’t be able to hurt them. You’ve played with witches before. They’re like ordinary girls in front of the God’s Stone.”

“Oh, yes, my lord.” Rene suddenly recalled something. “After hearing that loud noise, I saw that they had a few carts in their troop. There were big iron tubes on the cart, and I could see red lights and smoke rising from it.”

“Iron tubes? Red lights and smoke? Isn’t that a ceremonial barrel?” the Earl of the Elk Family questioned.

The duke, of course, knew what a ceremonial barrel was. It was often used in huge ceremonies for nobles in the king’s city. Now the lord of every district would have a couple for spare use. He had a couple of barrels in his castle. It would blast after putting in snow powder. However, its noise was incomparable to the thundering roar he heard today.

“Ceremonial barrels won’t split knights into pieces,” Honeysuckle Earl said, “and no matter what weapon the prince used, we’ve already lost the war. What shall we do next?”

Duke Ryan glanced at him with displeasure. The word “lose” sounded ear-piercing to him. “We’ve not lost yet.” He strengthened. “One battle wouldn’t alter the result. Once we get back to the stronghold, I can summon another troop and at the same time terminate the business on the Redwater River. Without food, Border Town won’t last for a month. As soon as he brings those peasants out, my knights will devastate and flank him from the back.”

“Victory will belong to me,” he thought. However, “The loss that has been suffered isn’t comparable to a small town… It’ll be impossible to reconquer the Northern Territory. Damn it! If I caught Roland Wimbledon, I’d cut him into pieces.”

“But my lord, the ship on Redwater River was not only from Longsong Stronghold but also from Willow Town, Fallen Dragon Ridge, and Redwater City. If we terminate them all, would we…” Honeysuckle Earl hesitated.

“I’ll buy it all. Nothing matters as long as I pay the money,” the duke said coldly, “You shall all return to your tent and rest. We’ll depart at dawn. Knights with horses shall come with us. The ones without horses will stay back to lead the mercenaries.”

They could not march at night. Even if Prince Roland wanted to pursue and attack, he would have to wait until dawn. The prince would first encounter the mercenaries that moved behind his group. He thought, “Even if these useless ones collapsed quickly, it would at least buy some time for me.”

The next morning, the duke did not receive any news to indicate that the prince would pursue. To confirm this information, the duke sent out his trusted followers to enlarge the investigation zone. They all returned with the same information. This was a great relief to him. Perhaps those new weapons were cumbersome to move like the mangonel and could only be used in defensive battles. Prince Roland would not act carelessly by relying on a bunch of miners.

At three o’clock in the afternoon, the duke ordered the knights to stop the march and to wait for the others to follow them. The mercenaries and freedmen were only able to catch up with the knights at dusk. The crowded fumbled and made an area for base camp.

The duke would reach Longsong Stronghold after surviving through the night. The 10 meters city wall was like the natural moat to the hundreds of person troop. Even if Roland had the new weapon that could shoot over a long range, the duke would retaliate with the mangonel from the wall. It was the time for the duke to retaliate.

However, all day long, Duke Ryan felt as if he was being watched, which made him a little comfortable.

“Perhaps it’s just a delusion, I’m too nervous,” the duke thought

The next day at dawn, the duke was awoken by the roars of gunfire.

He rushed out of the tent and found that everyone was fleeing. There was splattering dirt and blood everywhere. The duke looked to the west side and saw that the ‘Militia’ that was wearing leather armor was in a straight line and standing outside of the camp. In the deafening roars of gunfire, The duke had only one thought in his mind—how did they catch up with them?

Why did not the knights find those pursuers yesterday!?

“My lord, we have to run!” the guard brought a horse and shouted.

Osmond Ryan finally came to reality from his bewilderment. He jumped onto the horse and ran to the east with the guards. However, they encountered another troop soon after they left the camp.

Wearing the same leather armors and holding weird truncheons in their hands, they neatly lined up and even wore the same the expression.

Soon, the duke heard rhythmic sounds from the opposite side. With orderly pace, Prince Roland’s troop marched toward him.