The Amber Sword - v5c23




After witnessing the lord's hospitality in Valhalla, Little Pero no longer doubted who was the most powerful man in Aouine, and while everyone else was amazed at the splendor of Valhalla, he kept an eye out. He had always been observant and smart, so he could notice that the Elven maidens attending to them were all the most outstanding archers among the Tree Elves, and he noticed the magical armor worn by the sergeants of the White Lion Battalion as well. This was not the energy a local noble in a small country like Aouine would have. He thought to himself that those who opposed the Count were absolutely real fools, especially those nobles in the north of Aouine who were pussies and scattered sand that were not worth mentioning.

This lord was absolutely capable of transforming this small kingdom according to his own wishes, it could be seen at a single glance that he was a person with great ambitions. This group of people would be an advantage to have. But before he could even speak, Alea, who was at the side, interrupted. That guy pressed his lips together as if he had been holding the words in for quite a while, "Lord, if you don't mind, you can invite guests to your hunting session. We happen to be free as well... we can help you hunt a bear or some elks down in this forest."
 
"This damned, reckless fool!" Little Pero wanted to kick Alea real bad, but he had to admit that this kind of straightforwardness could sometimes be a good tactic. "The Kirrlutzians are disgraced by him."
 
Brendel laughed in secret and replied in a serious manner, "As a host, it's embarrassing to entertain guests with a few stinky bones."
 
"Lord, according to the tradition of the Kirrlutzians, our hunts aren't always roasted on the campfire, you can nail their heads on a wooden board and hang them in the room."

"Hanging the stinking head of a Bloodstaff in my room? I don't have that kind of bad taste." Brendel thought to himself, This is the furthest I should go with my words. He turned his gaze to the Little Pero, understanding that the young man was the one who could speak up among the knights. Of course, there was also tacit approval of Lenarette, but the eldest son of the emperor had been living in seclusion for some time, rarely leaving the camp, almost like a noble daughter afraid of the light.
 
Little Pero bowed his head, "My lord, bears and elks are certainly not able to escape you, but I think the hunters may still have some problems."
 
"Hunters?"
 
"My Lord, in the winter, hunters will often invite friends and relatives when they conduct roundups, and try to choose more experienced hunters, because everyone would want to be the first to shoot the best prey and young people are impatient, often frightening the animals."
 
Brendel's heart thumped, realizing what the other party was trying to say. He frowned, "Go on."

 "My lord, I have studied some of the war history about Kirrlutz earlier, except for the war between the Holy Cathedrals, most of the wars between the lords below are relatively simple and full of variables. That's not to say they didn't want to arrange a detailed plan to defeat their opponents in one go, but the lords mostly understood what kind of goods their vassals were, and their actions were often swayed by hot-headedness, or excess fear, often acting privately and undermining the whole picture, so the wars between the lords were often a comparison of who made fewer mistakes."

Little Pero was almost saying that Brendel’s plan was all talk and no action. Thanks to the gloomy and misty rainy day, Brendel’s flushed-red cheeks were not obvious. 

The battles he commanded in the past were executed by professional players, and the so-called gap in execution and discipline of players were compared to the modern army. But for the noble army of this era, it could simply be called a model.  In "The Amber Sword", even the players of small and medium-sized guilds were comparable to the White Lion Legion in terms of discipline and execution, and the large associations were even more orderly, after all, as long as the orders were not extremely unreasonable or restrictive of personal freedom, most players would not have a problem with their association points. These memories from the past gave him an illusion that he almost forgot he was now working with neither the players nor the disciplined White Lions, but the Duke's private army, which was not even comparable to the Southern Legion and the Vanmier Legion.
 
His thinking was influenced by the stereotypes in the game. He considered everything but almost forgot about this one thing. The good thing was that Little Pero and the others were the most professional soldiers at this time, well trained in history of war and field analysis that they could spot the loopholes in his arrangement at a glance.

He could not help but look at this thin young man again. The other party did not have a word of nonsense, but only a single sentence of analysis that convinced Brendel. "It seems to be the right choice to let these Knights of the Folded Sword join the battle." Indeed worthy of Kirrlutz's future. The deal is not a loss, at least, not yet.
 
"With the current situation, how should we make up for it?"
 
"My Lord, there is no need to fix it, Madara's situation is no better than ours, not to mention that this military action of Madara was a product of momentary impulsion. The Bloodstaff pulled in the Dark Leader from the Seas of the Dying Moon, but those lords are no different from our lords, their army is full of impulsion and misjudgment. This battle is an equal opportunity for both of us, not to mention that we have a head start, and our military strength is far more superior to those skeletons. Victory is inevitable in my opinion."
 
Brendel calmed down and realized that Little Perot's earlier remarks were merely to remind him not to take too much for granted and to highlight their role at the same time.
 
"My lord, what we are more concerned about than that is what you intend to use us for."

"You all aren't quite suitable to appear on the frontal battlefield for the time being, but right now there is exactly one place where I need you all to be. If those lords act rashly, it's inevitable that they won't need an army to go around the back of the Bloodstaff army to delay the pace of the skeletons turning in."
 
Little Pero looked at Count Trentheim with some admiration as the Count understood him at once. This count is certainly a wise man. But they also had their own pride, and replied indifferently, "My lord, the army of the Bloodstaff won't be delayed, because they will not be able to move even one step."
 
Now this is what Kirrlutzians are like. Brendel thought to himself, but it was not impossible for a knightly order with an average strength above Gold and numbering up to hundreds to block the Bloodstaff's retreat.
 
"Don't make too much noise."
 
"I will set up the position like the White Lion Guards under the Lord, and we will withdraw before the others arrive."

Brendel smiled. Talking to smart people saves me so much trouble. He looked at the present Folded Sword Knights. How nice it would be if all these people were Aouines? What a pity. Should we think of a way to keep them? This idea suddenly flashed through his mind but then he shook his head. This matter was too crucial. If Little Pero and the others lose their sense of military glory, they might not grow to be true generals in the future. Things wouldn't turn out ideal if forced. Whatever, let's just take one step at a time. It's not that Aouine doesn't have any geniuses.
 
After getting an answer from Brendel, the Folded Sword Knights, who have been depressed for a month, seemed to have been rejuvenated. These young knights were all very energetic, there was no way that they would stay idle. After knowing that they could go into battle and kill enemies, they could not help but rejoice. Moreover, Little Pero, Brund and Alea's preparations went very smoothly. In fact, the Folded Sword Knights have been anticipating Brendel's final answer for so long that they did not need prepare a lot. Just after half an hour, everyone was ready to go.
 
Of course, it could also be seen that these young people from Kirrlutz were well-trained. If they were placed in a general Noble Cavalry, even if the departure was prepared in advance, the final preparation would take at least one or two hours.
 
At this time, Freya arrived in Brendel's army under the escort of several Highland Knights.
 
The valkyrie's arrival brought bad news to Brendel.
As expected by Little Pero, the vassals of Duke Viero had hastily launched an attack before Brendel's arrival. After she learned the news from Eikkel, she immediately came to report to Brendel first. And according to Freya, in order to cooperate with Viero's army, Lantonilan's army and the Highland Knights had launched attacks as well, and the battle between the two was unfolding in the middle of the Slofavian hills, fighting to their death.
 
After she finished explaining, she couldn't help but look at Brendel's face, expecting him to be furious. To her surprise, Brendel only smiled bitterly and shook his head, as if he had expected it, "Freya, go and get ready, the White Lion Guards are waiting for the order to attack. Metisha will act with you, this is the first real war for Trentheim's army, and I'll give you command of the Wind Archers as well."
 
"Brendel?"
 
"The armies of Viero and Lantonilan have moved, we must also speed up to match them. If they want to suffer, let them be."
 
"But is that okay?"
 
"It's okay, the Bloodstaff can't win so only certain people will suffer a big loss. On the contrary, Freya, this is the first battle of the White Lion Guards and the Wind Archers since they became an army, and I want them to make a lasting impression on all the enemies of this kingdom."
 
"All the enemies?"
 
Brendel nodded his head.

In his mind, those rotten, dead vines and rotten branches that blocked the path of this kingdom's advancement, were about to be swept away. Aouine will begin to usher in a new life from this moment, the sapling planted in Trentheim, would finally sprout and take root at this very moment.
 
......

The battle began on a gentle slope to the west of the Slofavien hills, running east-west, with a thick forest of linden trees on the slope, where a noble knight from Viero had come to ambush with his squires a day earlier.  This knight named Planchet was neither a close one to the Grand Duke of Viero, nor an important vassal of the Grand Duke, but just an insignificant person. He came from the barren territories of the Tranquil Winds Forest, a real penniless person, to wade in this mess only for two purposes: for money and to be seen by the Duke. In order to achieve his ambition, he sold his family's money and belongings to gather all these people. And for the first time in his life, he rode a horse, put on a set of tailor-made leather armor, painted an emblem on the shield, pulled up the flag and came with the army to Slofavien, a place that was even poorer than his hometown.
 
But Planchet was both greedy for money and fame, he was not the kind of hot-headed young man. He already knew that this campaign was to deal with the skeletons of Madara before he came. The legend about those skeletons could not be described entirely in three days and three nights. During the First Black Rose War, there was even an army of Madara that entered the Viero province along the Anrek Mountains, and although Planchet had not really seen these terrible opponents, he had heard about their ferocity from various sources.

This knight thought twice before he really made up his mind to give it a go, but finally a bold plan took shape in his mind. He did not know where he got to know that the skeletons of Madara were controlled by Necromancers which once they were killed, the skeletons would lose the ability to fight. Moreover, the Necromancers themselves were weak in fighting and would lose all their ability once attacked from behind. This was what Planchet had in mind- to hide and wait for the skeleton army to pass, then rush out to slaughter those unarmed Necromancers, finally effortlessly getting a big credit. Although he was illiterate, he was extremely satisfied with his plan, thinking that was born with some kind of natural command ability. The Bloodstaff army has not yet arrived, but he was already imagining the scene of him becoming a marquis or a minister in the future.
 
However, when he arrived in Slofavien, Planchet found that there seemed to be a gap between the ideal and the reality. First, it was drizzling in the hills after autumn, which brought great trouble to the army stationed in the forest, including himself, who would have to march every day in wet land with muddy boots. And every day in the evening it would be as if he had rolled in the mud. But what was most unpleasant was that there was no dry and comfortable place to sleep, and sometimes they could only wrap their cloaks and spend the night in the mud. Planchet had never suffered from such situations and were complaining along with the others after only two or three days. The good thing was that after half a week of rain, the army finally entered the designated ambush area.
 
Unfortunately, Planchet found the situation in front of him different from expected once again. In his imagination, the so-called ambush would be hiding on both sides of the valley, waiting for the Bloodstaff army to pass; once they do, then they would attack all of a sudden and slash those skeletons. Of course he would be hiding until the end, just waiting to finish off the best deal with the Necromancers. But upon arrival at Slofavien, the knight only found that it was totally different - the whole battlefield was bigger than imagined, there were hills everywhere, only neverending slopes that were connected to a forest. Nobody could tell where the road was, let alone tell the direction.

Under such circumstances, Planchet felt that it would be difficult to even figure out which direction Madara's army would come from. Not to mention the whimsical thing of going around their backs to kill the Necromancers. At this time, those people in power had begun to divide the area one by one, ordering these scattered knights and lords to be stationed in their own ambush area. And for Planchet, he was divided into a lime tree forest.
 
This was not all.
 
Planchet was usually a happy-go-lucky man, however, and in such a situation, he was told to map out his surroundings. He soon found out that most of the people stationed around him were poor knights similar to himself and had ambitions to take advantage of the opportunity to make a fortune. This stressed him out as he thought he was the special one there, or at least the adventurous one who was willing to risk it all and grab the opportunity. He did not expect that there would be so many bold people like himself, he immediately started to feel the time constraint.

But fortunately, he was received by a big man this morning. Of course, along with other knights, but it was enough to make Planchet feel important, because it was said that the lord was a vassal of some sort of Duke Viero. The reception was about putting them on alert, since the Bloodstaff had been in contact with the Viero army earlier the day before.
 
But Planchet, with his natural sensitivity, understood another meaning in the other party's words, namely, with tacit approval, allowing them to attack at the right time without orders and without waiting for the scheduled time.
 
Because this man said that opportunities on the battlefield were fleeting, the good knights must learn to seize the opportunity themselves. Of course, if Planchet had some military sense, he would understand that this was just a bullshit statement, and if Brendel were here, he would probably sneer at these Viero nobles for doing such an obvious job in order to get the credit.
 
But almost everyone thought that victory was at hand, a little indulgence did not seem to be a bad thing.
 
Of course, all this had nothing to do with Planchet. He only felt that this was a good sign in any case.
 
And it continued as a good sign.

That afternoon, he finally saw a small group of skeleton riders running from outside the linden forest. And immediately after this skeleton cavalry, an army of skeletons appeared that had several hundreds in number. But of course Planchet could not count them, he only felt that he had never seen so many Undeads before, densely spread all over the hillside. This must be the army of the Undead.
 
He was nervous, but a thirst for credit and money calmed him down as if he had overcome his fear. He felt his heart pounding, and the opportunity he had dreamed of was at hand.
 
Sure enough, a few moments later, he saw a line of skeletons holding staffs and wearing robes come into view. If he was familiar with Madara's army, he would have recognized these as the skeleton mages were those who cast detection spells in the vanguard and were responsible for supporting the scout troops, but to Planchet, they had only one identity.
 
The Necromancers.
 
Here's our chance!
 
Planchet said to himself secretly.
 
......