Chapter 109: War (Part 4)

Chapter 109: War (Part 4)

"No, this isn't how it should be."

"It shouldn't be…"

"I was chosen by the Duke himself as a knight!"

Joseph sat astride his horse, fixedly watching the rapid collapse of the "Honor Legion" from a short distance away.

His "soldiers" were screaming, crying, and fleeing in all directions, chased by small yet savagely aggressive monsters.

In countless fantasies, he had envisioned himself leading troops in fierce charges, triumphing over enemies, earning the Duke's special commendation, being granted land, and becoming a true noble.

At worst, he'd imagined dying heroically, fighting to his last breath with an audience to witness, becoming a tragic hero immortalized in ballads.

But now, he led a pack of "gray animals" towards defeat, on the verge of a lonely, meaningless death on this barren plain.

"This is not how it should be!"

Joseph's expression twisted with determination.

Amid the chaos of fleeing soldiers, he spurred his horse forward, charging against the retreating crowd, trampling several soldiers and even decapitating the leading deserter with his sword.

Holding the deserter's severed head, Joseph, blood-splattered and snarling, roared,

"See this? This is the fate of deserters!"

"You cowards! Animals!"

"Fight! Fight to the death!"

To the soldiers, he looked as terrifying as the monsters pursuing them.

Joseph's forceful exhortation had a slight effect, slowing the fleeing crowd. Faced with the choice of dying in battle or at their commander's hands, some soldiers mustered a sliver of courage for a final stand.

But soon, they were overwhelmed by the wave of monsters, sinking into an even more desperate retreat.

Surrounded by kobolds and goblins, the soldiers could only flee instinctively.

"Die, you monsters!"

Joseph, atop his horse, beheaded a kobold with a single stroke.

But soon, goblins swarmed him from all directions, clinging to his arms, clawing at his eyes, biting his face.

"Thud!"

He was knocked off his horse, hitting the ground heavily.

Joseph pulled a goblin off his arm, stabbing it to death, his face twisted in rage.

"You damn vermin! Die!"

His voice hoarse, spitting, he summoned his last ounce of strength to stand, shaking off the goblins clinging to him.

But before he could swing his sword, more goblins jumped on him, the weight forcing the exhausted Joseph to his knees.

He struggled repeatedly, drawing more goblins and kobolds, who clawed and bit, piling on him like a small mountain, rendering him immobile.

"Die…die…"

"Die…"

His voice grew faint, finally drowned out by the monsters' savage roars.

"For Ember Nest!"

"For the great red dragon master!"

The kobolds and goblins continued their relentless chase and slaughter.

When the mob dispersed, all that remained was a bloodstain, scattered bones, and torn clothes. The eagle-and-sword crest on the chest of the discarded garments lay soaked in blood, unnoticed.

Once, it had symbolized everything Joseph idolized about nobility.

But on this bloody battlefield, it was worthless, unworthy even of a kobold's attention.

Aiden, captain of the First Northwind Eagle Guard, landed on his giant eagle, striding into the command tent to report.

"My lord, the Honor Legion is collapsing."

"About six thousand fleeing troops are heading toward our position."

Robert nodded slightly, saying calmly, "Held out for less than an hour—just as I expected. This rabble's only purpose was to clear the way for our forces and reduce unnecessary losses."

He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table. "And what of the enemy?"

"Primarily goblins and kobolds, about twenty thousand strong, including some dragon-blooded beasts, but they're only fit to fight the 'Honor Legion'—no real threat to us."

"Good. It's time to show these foolish creatures—"

"What real warfare looks like."

Robert rose slowly and exited the tent.

Aiden and Schneider followed closely.

Forming impenetrable formations, the "Talons of the Eagle" stood ready in their gray robes, shields and spears creating a forest of steel.

Warhorses neighed, and the armored cavalry braced for the charge.

Hundreds of eagle guards circled in the sky, keeping watch over the battlefield.

Behind the tent, soldiers pushed the massive crossbows forward.

"Soldiers—"

Robert's voice, soft but magically amplified, reached every ear.

"True war is upon us, and our enemy is unlike any other—savage monsters: goblins, kobolds, ogres, even dragons."

"They may be strong, powerful, or capable of breathing deadly fire, but remember, behind you is the Duchy of Lackman, the place of your parents, wives, children, and friends. The red dragon's expansion is relentless, and our only choice is to strike back and show these monsters our might!"

"The duchy has sheltered us for years, and under the Duke's protection, we've thrived. Now, any man with honor and courage must repay this debt with loyalty—to fight and die for the Duke and for the Duchy of Lackman!"

"For the Duke! For the Duchy of Lackman!"

Robert raised his silver sword, rallying the troops.

These soldiers, many sons of city folk or minor nobles, had grown up with the best military training. The words "protecting one's homeland, honoring one's duty" resonated powerfully with them.

Weapons trembled in unison, spears struck the ground rhythmically, and a wave of cheers erupted.

"For the Duke—"

"For the Duchy of Lackman—"

The rousing chant echoed through the ranks.

Yet a shadow darkened Robert's face.

He turned, asking quietly, "Aiden, why hasn't the Sixth Battalion returned?"

Aiden's heart sank, replying quickly, "Not sure, but they may have encountered the dragon."