Chapter 145 - The Battle Between the South and the North 12.
[Chapter Size: 2200 Words.]
Third Person POV
Northern kingdoms.
...
...
The small step on the grass was heard at that moment, like a little symphony before chaos, while, in the sky, sunlight began to penetrate the battlefield for the first time. The cloudy sky opened at that moment, and rays of sunlight started to illuminate various parts of the field simultaneously, the beams of light reflecting on the armor of both northern and southern men.
Another step was heard at the front of the northern army as everyone remained silent, trying to understand what was about to happen. After all, they had heard Madara's exclamation, who was now walking ahead of the entire northern army, having just declared that he would face Nilfgaard's 150,000 men alone.
Another step echoed as the Nilfgaardian army itself tried to process what they had just heard from their side. Was there truly someone who planned to face them alone? Something unthinkable.
Then, a fourth step was heard, quickly followed by a fifth and sixth, beginning to change the rhythm. Everyone remained stunned, watching Madara start to quicken his pace.
"This can't be happening..." murmured one of the Nilfgaardian soldiers, unable to believe what he was seeing.
The boy was now advancing alone toward the battlefield. His steps became faster, echoing in the heavy silence. He transitioned from a slow walk to a measured run, until finally leaning his body forward, his hands trailing behind him, speeding across the battlefield and gaining speed with every step. All eyes were fixed on him.
"What is he doing?" asked Nilfgaard's general, Menno Coehoorn, incredulous at the sight of the boy running directly toward the army, alone, across the battlefield.
On the northern side, General Kaelen was equally shocked. Even Thorne was no different; he had never imagined such an act coming from Madara. From his elevated position, the King of Sodden observed the young man running toward the southern army, trying to process if what he was seeing was truly real or what would happen next.
"Is he really going to face the army alone?" A commander in Nilfgaard's army could hardly believe it. He knew how dangerous Madara was, based on the reports from the last battle, and understood the need to be cautious with him. He quickly turned to his men.
"ARCHERS! DON'T LET HIM GET ANY CLOSER, SHOOT HIM!" he shouted, breaking the silence as one of Nilfgaard's commanders.
Quickly, the archers began positioning themselves at the front. Rows of soldiers appeared in the front lines, swiftly preparing their bows and aiming at the young man who was advancing at full speed. Madara, however, didn't care. All he wanted was to reach the enemy and start cutting them down. He craved battle in a way he had never felt before.
His gaze fell on the men in front of him without fear. 'This is my moment of revenge. For what they did to Cintra, for what they did to the kingdom. I didn't have enough power back then, but now... now it's different.'
Madara felt his blood pulsing, the chakra coursing through every part of his body as he ran. He wanted the entire continent to know who he was in this fight and why they should fear him in the future. It was the moment to show his true strength and send a message to the entire world.
He continued running as he heard a sudden sound of arrows flying into the sky, approaching rapidly. With his sharp gaze, he quickly noticed the rain of arrows advancing directly toward him. Every detail was seen and calculated with precision, his three-tomoe Sharingan glowing intensely. He could predict the path of each of those projectiles coming toward him.
The arrows advanced toward the ground, a large portion of them falling directly over Madara. But this did not stop him. He swiftly moved his body with calculated agility, dodging every arrow, many of them landing around him.
His movements were so precise that they left not only the archers but also the Nilfgaardian commander in disbelief. On the other side, the northern army watched in amazement, seeing the boy "dance" among the arrows, continuing to advance without losing his rhythm.
"More arrows! Fire more arrows!" shouted the Nilfgaardian commander.
Immediately, another barrage of arrows was launched, now coming in a straighter, more direct trajectory toward Madara. But the result was the same. He dodged every single one with millimeter precision. His body found every perfect opening between the arrows, something impossible for any ordinary human.
And he was closer.
Another explosion of arrows flew toward him, but this time, Madara quickly realized there were too many to pass through unscathed. Without hesitation, he raised his fist and, with a burst of smoke, pulled a sword from his storage. Gripping it firmly, he began to block every arrow coming his way with a series of rapid, calculated movements. Each strike deflected and destroyed an arrow with flawless precision.
Having overcome yet another barrage, Madara kept running, now with his sword in hand. The archers began to flee, terrified by what they had just witnessed, and now there was no more time to stop him. Madara, however, paid them no mind. He continued advancing toward the infantry line, just behind the archers.
But there was the commander shouting orders to the archers, and he didn't have much luck either. He barely had time to react before Madara was in front of him. His head was severed before he could realize it, and even before it hit the ground, Madara had already planted his foot and moved on to the first line of Nilfgaardian infantry.
The infantry soldiers were stunned to see the young man who had run from the other end of the battlefield to reach them in such a short time. The second victim of Madara, once again, didn't even have time to react before he was there. With a single motion, his sword sliced through the soldier's armor, piercing his heart. Then, he quickly felled others nearby.
In the midst of the first group of soldiers, Madara didn't stop there. He attacked the nearest enemy, swinging his sword with speed and precision, severing his head. This caused the entire group around him to spring into action immediately. None of them wanted to allow this boy to keep advancing and killing their comrades.
"Don't let him through! Kill him now!" shouted one of the captains in despair from a distance.
But Madara was already amidst the chaos, and more importantly, the action. He moved with blinding speed, his blade cutting through everything around him. Screams and shouts echoed across the battlefield as Madara pushed further into the center of the enemy line, killing one soldier after another. His pace was relentless, and each movement left a trail of death and lifeless bodies.
From above, the Nilfgaardian general stood paralyzed. He had thought he would be facing only the northern army, a group of untrained farmers who could be easily crushed. Now, however, he was witnessing the unimaginable: a single man fighting alone in the middle of his army, taking on 150,000 enemies who were desperately trying to kill him.
The northern side was no different. The men watched the scene from afar, unsure of what to do. Soon, the area Madara had passed through began to close in, with soldiers trying to attack him from behind. However, he swiftly eliminated them, leaving an open space again as screams echoed in the distance.
"Hey, Thorne... what is he doing?" General Kaelen asked, his eyes fixed on the scene.
"I don't know, but I certainly wouldn't want to be his enemy," Thorne replied, his tone cautious as he observed.
Meanwhile, the sound of clashing blades continued, mingled with the screams of Nilfgaardians being slain. The air was thick with the smell of blood.
To Madara's eyes, that chaos was just a detail. The sound of blades, screams, and spilling blood was like a symphony to his ears.
His eyes moved quickly, analyzing every enemy movement. No matter how surrounded he was, his movements were agile and calculated, focused solely on his one goal: to take lives mercilessly.
His arrogance pulsed like energy in his heart as he thought to himself: 'How dare these men try to stop me? They are as insignificant as leaves in the wind. They are nothing compared to the eyes of Madara Uchiha!'
Madara continued advancing toward the heart of the army. The soldiers around him began to hesitate, fear growing in their hearts. They saw their comrades falling one after the other, powerless to stop the boy who cut through their armor as if it were made of paper.
The blades Madara used to kill the Nilfgaardians were taken directly from the ground when the previous ones wore out, marked by constant impacts against other blades, armor, and human flesh. He quickly replaced his weapons with new ones, creating an unending rhythm of destruction.
The Nilfgaardians began to retreat, trying to distance themselves from him, but Madara did not stop. He struck down anyone who crossed his path, carving out more and more space and leaving a trail of death wherever he passed.
"My lord, we cannot let this continue! He's advancing toward the center of the army!" exclaimed a Nilfgaardian officer, desperate as he turned to the general of the army.
"How is this possible? Who the hell is this thing?" General Menno was incredulous. 'It's one thing for him to fight a few men days ago, but this... this is completely unimaginable. No one in this world should possess such power! He's in the middle of an army of 150,000 men, and no one can stop him?!' The general's dark thoughts swirled in his mind, tinged with despair.
"Damn it! MAGES! We cannot let him continue. Attack! Kill him now!" the general shouted, a mix of anger and desperation in his voice.
"But, sir... our men are in the middle! They'll be hit too!" one of the Nilfgaardian mages hesitated.
"If we don't stop that thing now, there will be no one left to fight. Attack now!" the general roared, his voice heavy with authority and fear.
The mages began to prepare quickly, forming magical circles as they chanted incantations. Meanwhile, Madara continued his carnage. He noticed a strange sound coming from the other side of the battlefield. Even as he remained surrounded, none of the Nilfgaardian soldiers could land a blow on him. He had already killed over 500 men in less than three minutes since reaching the front line. It was almost as if he were taking down three men per second.
Holding swords in both hands, Madara continued to defend and attack. Even amidst his fury, he was fully aware of everything around him. The screams and chaos only fueled his determination.
Then, as he had anticipated, Madara saw lights rising into the sky before descending rapidly toward him. The Nilfgaardian soldiers stared in shock, unable to react, as the area where Madara stood, along with the fallen bodies, exploded in the next moment. Madara leaped back from the first explosion, dodging it skillfully. Another blast struck the ground on the other side, but he avoided it once again.
A series of explosions erupted all around, turning the battlefield into utter chaos. Nilfgaardian soldiers screamed in pain, many being annihilated instantly, while others, terrified, barely realized they were on the brink of death. It was a magical attack unleashed point-blank by the Nilfgaardian mages themselves, with no regard for their own men.
The northern army watched the scene in astonishment. It was hard to believe that a single man had been fighting thousands up to this point, and now they saw the Nilfgaardian mages launching spells into their own army in a desperate attempt to stop Madara.
"Madara...?" Yennefer murmured amidst the northern army, her voice filled with concern as she looked toward the explosions that could be felt even from a distance.
Meanwhile, what no one knew was that, as the dust began to settle, Madara was already standing in the center of the devastated area. The ground was torn apart, and many of the nearby Nilfgaardian men who hadn't been killed by the explosions suffered severe burns. Their screams for help echoed in agony.
"Well... if this is the kind of fight you want, so be it." Madara's voice emerged from within the smoke.
When he came into view of everyone, his eyes were fixed in the direction where the spells had come from. His outfit was slightly dusty, but he appeared completely unharmed. Madara raised a hand, brushing off his armor to clear the dust, showing no sign of concern. His gaze then turned to the soldiers around him, many of whom were injured and desperately trying to ease their pain. Others simply stared at him, stunned, unable to comprehend how he was still alive. They began stepping back in fear of the red-eyed monster in human form.
In the next moment, Madara began moving his hands rapidly in a series of seals. He stopped on the horse seal, taking a deep breath and filling his cheeks with air as he prepared to take the battle to an entirely new level.
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