Chapter 105 Alonso's resolve
Chapter 105 Alonso's resolve
Under Alonso's eyes, the battlefield was soon swallowed by the cruel melody of clashing steel and painful screams. The clash of steel and the scent of blood mingled like destined lovers of the North, unable to remain alive while away from each other. The heavy scent of blood rose seemed to awaken those hibernating animals, whose eyes looked greedily in the direction of the White Merchant Road, but too afraid to approach.
Luther acted as the spearhead of the formation and was the first one to clash against the adversary's spear wall, his blade covered in a bright blue aura was tightly grasped in his hand. The nearest enemy tried to raise his quivering spear to stop the horse coming towards him, but unable win against the fear of being killed by the incoming tsunami.
Luther's sword descended like the shining moon, with cruel elegance, severing through the man's flesh and even cutting through the shaft of the spear as if no resistance existed. In less than a second, the first enemy had crumpled to the ground, alive but with a gashing wound across his chest, where his bones and hear could be seen.
Struggling against death, the bleeding soldier tried to muster his whole strength to rise to his feet. However, before he could succeed, a massive force stomped on his head, causing it to burst like a watermelon. The horse trailing right behind Luther in the echelon formation had tasked himself to end the general's job.
The White Merchant Road was a challenging battlefield for a cavalry unit due to its narrowness and the dense forest surrounding it, greatly limiting the unit's ability to maneuver and swiftly launch attacks in different locations. However, dealing with an army that lacked shields to protect itself and experienced lancers to bring down the horsemen, there was no need to maneuver. The speed and the momentum created by the Snowfire Horses dashing without obstacles were enough to destroy any formation.
Luther broke their defense and ferociously wielded his sword against every foe in his path of advancement. The vast difference in strength made Luther akin to a nuclear bomb descending upon a medieval village, leaving the people without a place to take cover. The enemies were like helpless cattle awaiting their time to be harvested.
The old general kept advancing through the enemy's ranks, carving a path of destruction through the enemy's ranks, and leaving a gruesome trail in his wake. Each swing was swift and powerful, enough to kill three soldiers with every stroke, rendering the enemies unable to fight back. Stahl's cavalry trailed right behind their general, ruthlessly killing any foes obstructing their progress.
As the cavalry advanced, the defenders unconsciously retreated, not daring to expose their backs to the enemies. It wasn't only due to fear, but also an understanding that a single moment of carelessness could lead to their deaths. They were not courageous or loyal enough to dive to their deaths while brainlessly advancing.
At the rear of the battlefield, Alonso and his nobles observed the unfolding chaos in silence, not daring to raise their voices. The nobles resembled gods, watching ants build kingdoms while aware that they could destroy their creations in a matter of seconds, except for the king.
Alonso's eyes displayed a mixture of emotions, from anxiety to fear, as he watched Luther wildly swinging his sword. The old general occasionally glanced towards Alonso as if he were prey that he must catch at all costs. It gave the king chills.
"My king, should we charge forward?" - One of the nobles, gripping two small axes seemingly made to cut down trees, asked, breaking the silence. He was a second-stage warrior that oversaw a small countryside village, a man with an air of simplicity but with rough looks that seemed to have been born with a few less neurons.
The king's eyes shifted from the chaotic battle to the noble who had spoken, fixing a strand of hair that obscured his vision – "Excellent suggestion!" - The king's eyes shone with a bright and calculative glim as he praised the noble. Nôv(el)B\\jnn
"You, you, and you!" – Alonso commanded, pointing his fingers at ten other nobles, all of them at the second stage and lacking the strength to alter the course of the battle. - "I want you to follow Sir. Biff here and confront our enemies. You must be the spear of Aritreia and assist me in conquering these lands!"
Upon hearing those words, the ten nobles couldn't help but shoot furious glares towards Biff, as if they were ready to pounce at him and beat him to death. They didn't want to work and instinctively felt that they could die from going there. They wanted to ask the king to stay here, but as soon as their eyes laid on the king, they couldn't help but shake, seeing a scene that appeared every time he exterminated a whole lineage with his own two hands.
Alonso had his hands on the handle of his sword as his eyes shot an apathetic and serious gaze at them, daring them to say anything. He desired only compliance, not questioning. Those eyes sought respect and obedience.
"I obey!"- They responded in unison, bowing their heads while concealing the killing intent lurking in their eyes.
At that moment, these nobles remembered Duke Latrel's offer a couple weeks prior to this war, when the orders to head north had just been issued. At that time, they had hesitated and refrained to take parts on any political or power struggle. However, now, with the king directing them to a perilous direction, something seemed to click within them.
With his robust body and hairy face, Biff boldly raised both axes as he declared, like a child playing hero – "Follow me! We will defeat our enemies and bring honor to our king and families!"
This simple-minded noble said nothing more and charged ahead. He was a countryside noble and didn't have the money or status to own a house, so he had to use his own body to push the soldiers in front of him to the side. He began to open his way towards the enemies, not caring about the long and tight line of soldiers or the chaos of the battlefield.
The other ten nobles gazed at the king and then at each other, as if silently acknowledging a shared understanding. They then followed behind their new captain, not daring to show disrespect to the king. Alonso observed their backs with an apathetic gaze as they headed towards Stahl's cavalry. Once they had distanced themselves a bit, he turned to the other nobles surrounding him.
There were about seven hundred nobles around him, half of them on the Second Stage or above. It was a force that didn't lose to the cavalry in front of him, even more so counting the thousands of normal soldiers fighting in the frontlines.
However, he had heard of the old man called Luther from his father. That old general of Stahl could already be in the Sixth Stage, becoming a force completely outside of their reach and one that could only be killed if all of them surrounded him and attacked at the same time. However, the prospects of ending such a man without suffering major losses were low, but his death could guarantee Aritreia's victory.
"If the Duke and I join forces to face him, we might stand a chance" - Alonso pondered, his gaze shifting back to the figure of the old man ruthlessly exterminating his subjects, before settling on the forest where Latrel had disappeared.
"Those on my right, follow me to that side of the forest!" - Alonso shouted to his nobles, determination in his voice as a bold plan took shape in his mind. - "The other half will head to the opposite side of the forest and relay my orders to the duke! We will launch our attack from the cover of the forest, where their mounts hold no advantage, making it difficult for them to maneuver. The trees will be our greatest ally!".
"We will be employing bandits' tactics!" – He declared.