Chapter 40: Blood on the Fields
Status of Dikun Silver:
Name: Dikun Silver
Age: 21
Rank: Captain of the Silver's Warband
Reputation: Defender of Rithgar, Rising Leader, Potential Ally of House Carlin
Health: Slightly Wounded (Minor Cut on Left Arm)
Equipment: Steel Longsword, Reinforced Chainmail, Leather Cloak
Mount: Brown Destrier
Morale: Steady
Status of Silver's Warband:
Total Soldiers: 93 (Five soldiers wounded, two in critical condition)
Ranks:
63 Privates
20 Corporals
8 Sergeants
2 Lieutenants (Revan, Harlon)
Supplies: Dwindling (Grain, Dried Meat, Water)
Weapons: Mixed (Spears, Swords, Bows)
Armor: Basic Leather and Chainmail
Morale: Determined, but Strained
Current Location: Rithgar Village
Next Objective: Hold Rithgar until reinforcements arrive or the enemy is repelled
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The Battle Rages On
The sun had climbed higher, illuminating the battlefield with its harsh, golden light. The walls of Rithgar shook beneath the relentless assault. Lord Varrin's forces swarmed like locusts, their crimson banners fluttering as they pressed against the barricades.
Dikun's sword was slick with blood, his breathing ragged. He parried another strike, the force of the clash vibrating up his arm. A heavily armored footman snarled, thrusting a spear toward his chest. With a swift sidestep, Dikun dodged the blow, driving his sword through the gap in the man's armor.
"Captain! The western gate is holding, but they're pushing harder!" Revan shouted from a few paces away, his spear stained with crimson.
"Then we hold harder!" Dikun bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Behind him, Harlon swung his massive axe, cleaving through the shields of the advancing soldiers. Blood sprayed across the earth as bodies crumpled at his feet. "They're like damned flies," he growled.
"We can outlast them," Dikun affirmed, though even he could feel the weight of exhaustion creeping in. "Revan, take five archers to the eastern wall. I saw their cavalry regrouping."
"Aye, Captain!"
Revan barked orders, and the archers quickly moved to their positions. Dikun turned his gaze back to the western gate, where the battered palisade threatened to buckle.
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A Test of Leadership
Despite the chaos, the discipline of Dikun's warband held firm. The privates, though trembling with fear, followed their captain's commands without question. The corporals barked orders, ensuring formations remained intact. Even the wounded refused to abandon their posts.
As a young corporal staggered back from the line, clutching a bloodied shoulder, Dikun moved to his side.
"Corporal Maren, stand tall," Dikun commanded, gripping the young man's arm. "You fought well. The pain is a reminder that you live."
Maren's pale face twisted with pain, but he nodded. "I won't fall, Captain."
Dikun clapped him on the back, his voice steady. "That's the spirit. Now back to the line."
Moments like these defined leadership — not merely commanding soldiers, but standing beside them. Every man who fought for him would know that Dikun Silver bled just as they did.
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The Enemy's Gambit
A sudden, guttural horn echoed from the enemy ranks. The crimson-clad soldiers shifted their formation, retreating slightly from the western gate. Dikun frowned, his instincts prickling.
"They're pulling back," Harlon muttered, stepping to Dikun's side. "Why would they—"
"Watch the eastern wall," Dikun interrupted, his heart sinking. "It's a diversion."
Before the words had fully left his mouth, the cry of battle rang from the eastern gate. The remnants of Varrin's cavalry surged forward, their lances gleaming.
"Revan!" Dikun roared.
The lieutenant and his archers were already in position. Revan's voice echoed across the field. "Loose!"
A rain of arrows fell upon the charging horsemen, striking riders and mounts alike. Some crumpled mid-gallop, but others pushed through the onslaught. The crash of horse and shield resounded as they slammed into the eastern barricade.
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A Desperate Defense
Dikun sprinted toward the eastern wall, his feet pounding against the dirt. The battlefield blurred around him — the scent of blood and sweat thick in the air. As he reached the embattled gate, he drew his sword once more.
"Hold the line!" he bellowed, his voice rising above the din.
The soldiers fought with grim determination, but the cavalry's weight was unrelenting. A mounted knight broke through the barricade, his lance aiming straight for a young private.
In an instant, Dikun lunged. His sword arced through the air, striking the knight's arm. The lance veered off course, harmlessly splintering against the ground. The knight snarled, but Dikun pressed the attack. With a powerful swing, he severed the rider's reins, sending him crashing to the dirt.
"Push them back!" Dikun roared.
His men responded with a renewed surge of strength. Spears thrust forward, impaling the dismounted foes. Revan's archers continued their assault, thinning the ranks of the remaining cavalry.
But the battle was far from over. Lord Varrin's soldiers regrouped, their crimson banners advancing once more.
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A Glimpse of the Enemy
Across the field, mounted on a black destrier, Lord Varrin watched the carnage. His dark eyes gleamed with ruthless intent. Clad in polished steel, he cut a commanding figure — a man who reveled in the destruction he wrought.
"Varrin," Dikun growled under his breath.
He knew the time would come when they would cross blades. But for now, the battle belonged to his men.
"Let them come," Dikun muttered, his grip tightening on his sword. "We're not done yet."
The sun climbed higher, bathing the field in a crimson hue. The battle for Rithgar was far from over.
To be continued...