Chapter 13: Blood

The sun was beginning to rise, and the light was illuminating an army which was dismantling their camp.

The soldiers folded up their tents, put their things away, and loaded the carts and their bags.

Today was the great departure, the first great war that the duchy will have known in decades. This war won't even be against orcs or other monsters in war against the Human race. No. It will be against their own kingdom.

Some were excited to fight. Others were terrified of entering a battlefield. But no one wanted to run away. Not that they have the choice in the first place, but even so, all of these soldiers had families in the duchy. And they had all realized the lack of food. The prices had skyrocketed, and the quantity was barely sufficient. War was the only solution.

Rohan was on his horse, next to his father and surrounded by their guards. All those who participated in the war were either trained soldiers or warriors. The latter numbered a thousand, made up of the youngest and the oldest. There were virtually no warriors left in the duchy of Barnes.

The nobles, their guards and a trained cavalry formed a troop of a thousand cavalrymen, while nearly ten thousand infantry followed behind them. Then, at the rear, were the caravans carrying various materials, rations, consumables and more.

All in all, a twelve thousand strong army was moving in column towards the first battlefield. Of those twelve thousand, nearly one thousand were warriors of rank 1 or higher, but only a handful were intermediate warriors while only one was advanced rank.

For the neighboring duchies, when the news of this armed force heading for the kingdom reached them several days later, cold sweats appeared on the faces of the various dukes. A thousand warriors was definitely something terrifying. Even the kingdom probably did not have such power.

But this was normal. The Duchy of Barnes had been preparing for years, and thanks to the demonic core which was their greatest treasure, they ended up having this impressive number of warriors.

And so, for almost a week, a routine settled down for Rohan, as if he was on a simple trip.

In the morning he got up, put on the bits of armor he had taken off for the night, helped his guards dismantle the tents, and mounted his horse. Then he rejoined the troop of horsemen and marched in step.

There was a lunch break, so he got off his horse and ate the rations they had. He did not forget to drink a fruit juice that his butler had prepared for him, to brighten up this frugal meal. An hour later, the march resumed.

Before the sun set, the troops stopped and the soldiers prepared camp while Rohan pitched his tent. So the night passed, and an identical day took place.

Only one point had changed.

On his horse, Rohan held the rein in his left hand and let him walk following the others, while in his right hand, an open book was held.

The day before, with nothing to do but follow the road and count the clouds, he had almost died of boredom. So he had decided to take a book. As his horse was well trained, he had no difficulty in leading it to follow a group.

The days passed like this with nothing unusual disturbing the army, no attacks, no messages from the kingdom, nothing.

Nothing, until that moment. In the middle of the morning, the troops suddenly stopped at the orders of the commandement.

Rohan looked up from his book. In front of him, a few kilometers away, was their first target. Meadows filled with small houses surrounded the walls of this city. These were not very tall, maybe four or five meters high. This city was definitely not designed to defend itself against an army.

Orders were screamed right and left, before the army started to move. A break was given, during which each soldier ate their ration and prepared themselves: the assault was planned to be launched in the early afternoon.

Hours later, thousands of soldiers stood in formation outside the city, all set. Tension filled them as they all stared at the direction of the enemy city, their faces blank. Some of them were shaking, some of them were laughing, some of them were silent. But all of them were feeling the same emotion: fear.

How many would die today?

Although Rohan generally congratulated himself on knowing how to keep his composure at all times and in all places, his heart couldn't help but beat harder and harder from his horse's height.

Beside him was the captain of his guard while they were in another group. The goal was to crush them with the power of the warriors.

Not far from him was another warrior. This one, his face pale, was looking in the direction of the city with his hands slightly shaking. There was also another warrior beside him: presumably his guard.

Mileim would also participate in the war, from this point of view, their fathers were surely alike. Because although they could certainly play with their personality to prevent their son from fighting and to be here, they had chosen to give them the taste of a real war.

Oddly, seeing this young man ready to faint in any seconds, Rohan calmed down and his breathing slowly resumed. His face became impassive again as usual.

The strategy put in place was very simple. Send the infantry to take control of the gate, open it, then send the charging cavalry into the city. Rohan was among the second group of horsemen to enter the city, so he would be practically in the front line, but much less in danger.

On the enemy walls, movements of soldiers could be seen: they had already known about the battle for a few days. After all, a displacement of several thousand soldiers was not easily camouflaged.

The time had come.

The horns sounded, and the first wave of soldiers, nearly a thousand, charged towards the city carrying short ladders to climb the walls. The sole purpose of this attack was to test the opposing defenses.

Suddenly a rain of arrows appeared from the walls and fell on the soldiers who raised their shields in formation under the bellows of the captains. This rain mowed down many lives, but it did not slow down the charge of the soldiers, who, marching on their comrade on the ground, continued to run forward.

A part of the soldiers continued towards the walls as a troop of archers began to retaliate and fire their own arrows towards the walls to prevent the defenders from sticking their heads out.

General Edwin, who watched the battle and was ready to give orders to the pennant bearer at his side with any trouble, couldn't help but frown.

The attack was going much better than expected. There were fewer defenders than he thought. Perhaps the kingdom hadn't had time to organize the defenses?

He motioned for the cavalry to prepare and decided to send a second group of infantry to reinforce the first.

Back at the wall level, the first ladders began to be put down as the archers ceased the heavy fire. Some of these ladders were pushed as soon as they appeared but there was simply too much to handle, and a few minutes later the first soldiers of the Duchy arrived at the top of the walls.

The real battle began.

The soldiers drew their swords and entered the fray. Immediately, a bloodbath drowned the walls in a filthy red liquid, and the clamor of fighting echoed all the way to Rohan, watching his first battle a few hundreds meters from there.

For a few minutes the fighters on both sides came to a standstill, but it did not last long. The difference between the number of attackers and defenders was far too great. The soldiers of the duchy succeeded in pushing back the defenders sufficiently and opened a way to the control of the gate. It didn't take long for a squad to gain control of it.

Suddenly, the great city gate opened, sealing the fate of the defenders.

Rohan squeezed the sword and shield he held in his hands. While the first group of horsemen charged at a run under the command of a commander, the second group in which he was followed.

Although the door was open, the defense never stopped, and arrows flew at the horsemen. Rohan had to raise his shield to protect himself from a few of them, but it was really ineffective. Finally, none had killed anyone in the cavalry: they were all warriors with enough reflex to ward off the few arrows fired here and there.

The distance to the enemy wall vanished, and as Rohan passed through the opening in the wall that was welcoming him, another world opened up before him. A red world, filled with blood, tears and cries, screams of pain and terror were all he could see and hear, in bewteen the flash of iron and the yelling of orders.

The first group had sunk into the enemy formation standing behind the door, and Rohan and his group followed into the melee. Formation was really an exaggeration, as there were only hundreds of men standing there while only some of them were wearing leather armor on them.

Rohan, followed by his captain, charged into the enemy. It was a massacre. A massacre of rare violence. The reason for such a bloodbath was obvious. The group that Rohan was in, was, after all, only made up of warriors. Opposite were soldiers, and in the end, they were just normal men.

Rohan saw his first opponent. As his horse quickly approached this infantryman no one had yet killed, he didn't think, adrenaline and stress causing him to act before he could.

He aimed into the gap in the enemy soldier's armor, and as they made contact, he struck from the top of his horse with incredible speed.

The tip of the sword met no resistance, and was planted directly into the throat of the opponent. The latter, shocked, made a strange sound as he choked on his blood.

Rohan took back his blade, and blood was flowing from the hole, staining the soldier in red.

He fell to the ground, and under the impact, his helmet rolled to the muddy and bloody ground before being stopped by another corpse.

He was young. He must have been the same age as Rohan. He was probably one of the new recruits, looking for a job to support his family. Or, he had been drafted to defend his city.

It didn't matter. It didn't matter because in the end, this unknown young man paid with his own life for the mistakes of a king whose face he had never even seen.

The sound of the battle returned to Rohan's ears. He shook his head to separate himself from those thoughts and concentrated again. He was now on the battlefield. He would kill his enemies, and this for the sole purpose that he didn't want them to kill him first.

So he rushed to the next target with determination in his eyes.