Chapter 475: Act 224 – Beat Them Up
In remote areas such as Toniger and Yu Song, most residents do not actually live close to the cities. Even in Vaunte, the more prosperous the area, the higher the level of urbanization. Perhaps due to trade and commerce, a large number of craftsmen, monks, artists, municipal officials, and their families, as well as those who depend on them for survival, gather in the cities.
However, in Toniger, this situation is reversed. There are many scattered settlements in the wilderness, with farms located on the edges of the forests, and hunter cabins nestled in the hills. This is the case that the centaurs discovered, as they brought along a family who feared they were scouts from Rendener.
The leaves of the trees rustled softly, and the centaur warriors, tall and strong, with reddish-brown muscles and purple-white battle stripes painted across their cheeks and shoulders, brought along trembling men and women, along with their ragged children, with oily and tangled black hair—clearly refugees.
Brendel glanced down the mountain, where the forest was dark as ink, and various colored flags intertwined within it, but the sounds of battle paused at their sudden appearance. He noticed that the nearest Grussian soldiers were secretly adjusting their formation; the gray-green noble mercenaries appeared faintly in the woods.
But he didn’t care. He turned back and said, “They are not scouts, just refugees.”
“My lord, we…” The man’s eyes flashed with terror. Refugees caught by the nobles would likely face beheading; along the roads from ‘Daolin’ to ‘Somail’, there were many headless corpses, mostly refugees, but some were robbers.
“Who are you!” However, the child suddenly broke free from his mother’s pale hands and asked loudly.
…
The sudden appearance of the army on the flank made Parsons feel uneasy, but upon hearing that the other side only had a few hundred men, he breathed a sigh of relief, tapping his finger against the smooth hilt of his sword, and turned to ask, “Did the scouts report back?”
“No.”
Parsons nodded.
A mere few hundred dared to appear. The old knight noticed his fellow knights discussing in relaxed tones. The soldiers seemed to mock the enemy’s overconfidence. While overconfident soldiers often fail, no general dislikes a confident army. He was satisfied with the morale of his subordinates, and for a moment, the enemy’s reinforcements seemed to become a joke.
“Those ‘reinforcements’ are standing still!”
“Ha ha, they’re probably considering whether to retreat or flee in panic.”
“Cowards! If they had come at us when they first appeared, they might have caught us off guard; they wasted their chance.”
“To be able to circle to our flank, that’s skill enough for them.”
“That’s the incompetence of the Grussians.”
Parsons couldn’t help but shake his head once more; how could they consider the enemy? His young men were too arrogant. He took a deep breath and replied, “No response means the enemy; have the Grussians hold them off; they have already embarrassed themselves enough.”
The morale of the army was usable.
“Then let’s move out.” The old knight pulled down his visor and stood up from the rock. His servant had long brought his warhorse, and the knights were already ready to go.
A trivial change on the battlefield couldn’t alter his decision. Although cautious, Parsons possessed the decisiveness of a general. He nodded to his servant, the sound of metal rings scraping against each other creating a rustling noise. The servant, clad in leather armor, picked up the horn hanging at his waist and blew into it, a clear battle horn piercing through the forest—
Then countless soldiers emerged from the woods, clad in red and blue battle robes, wearing iron helmets, their long swords at their sides, and one hand holding a hawk shield, their iron shod feet cracking the dry wood beneath them, creating a unified sound.
The battalion of soldiers surged forth, filling every gap among the trees and appearing all over the mountains and plains. The noble mercenaries formed several massive formations, flowing like water across the battlefield, with scattered arrows flying toward them. Even if one person fell occasionally, soldiers behind would quickly fill the gaps. The enemy before them seemed endless, creating a feeling of helplessness.
The army drew closer.
The mercenaries still resisting in the forest couldn’t help but drop their bows. The momentum of an army of tens of thousands appearing at once was enough to make the ground tremble.
Everyone swallowed hard.
Medisa, donned in silver armor, sat astride her unicorn. Her visor had closed, revealing only her eyes, petite nose, and mouth; the elven princess pursed her lips, gripping her long spear silently as she watched this scene.
Behind her were Juliette, Vurn, and nearly a thousand troglodytes, bent over in dark, spiny metal armor, holding huge spears like monsters of war.
Yet this army did not stand directly in front of Rendener’s forces.
Medisa observed the battle quietly.
Juliette, however, was puzzled. “Aren’t we going in?”
“That is not our enemy, Juliette; I never said our goal was not Madara,” Medisa replied, looking toward the distant mountain.
“But… they can’t hold them off!” The female mercenary band leader watched the approaching army with some tension.
“The Lord has his arrangements.” Medisa glanced back at her with a slight smile, her calm gaze filled with unquestioning trust. “You’re too nervous.”
“The Lord doesn’t have many people either,” Juliette looked at Medisa curiously.
“Enough,” Medisa said. “I am the commander of this reserve unit; I must first follow tactical arrangements. The Lord says he can do it; what I must do is trust his judgment. And our goal is Madara.”
“I really think I’m going crazy,” Juliette shook her head and muttered.
Medisa smiled, “Thank you for accompanying me, Juliette.”
“You’re just a young girl,” Juliette sighed, thinking of her sister. She touched her sword hilt and suddenly felt her hand growing a bit cold.
…
Brendel looked at the small boy. The mother ran over, terrified, shielding her child, raising her head to look at him with pleading eyes.
“My lord, the enemy is on the move,” someone among the mercenaries said at that moment.
Brendel nodded, turning back. “I am your rightful lord; whether you are refugees or my subjects, as long as you live in Toniger, I will protect you. Just remember this, and that’s enough.”
After saying that, he tugged the reins and was about to leave, but unexpectedly, the child loudly retorted, “You’re lying! You’re all bad people!”
“Hmm?” Brendel was taken aback and couldn’t help but stop.
“Daddy said if you weren’t here, there wouldn’t be a war.”
“My lord…” The man grabbed his son anxiously, his expression all over the place. “He… he…”
Brendel shook his head, looking back at all the people he had brought out of the Black Forest. Everyone looked at him, including tree spirits, centaurs, druids, and those human mercenaries. Brendel nodded at them, then dismounted, drawing his sword with a clang in front of everyone.
The poor woman let out a terrified scream, but Brendel walked over to her, holding down her bony hand, gently shaking his head in reassurance. “It’s alright; don’t worry.”
The woman and man looked at him nervously. He turned back and gently patted the little boy’s cheek. “You’re a little man. I’ll ask you a question.”
The boy stared back at him.
“If one day someone wants to take your mommy and daddy away, what will you do?”
“They dare! I’ll beat them!” The little boy replied confidently.
“Well said.” Brendel praised. “Now I ask you, little man, if one day someone wants to take you away from me, take this country away, what do you think I will do?”
The boy looked at him in confusion.
“I will beat them too.” Brendel smiled slightly. He got back on his horse, pointing his sword forward—within the forest, Rendener’s army was surging, yet the two armies remained at a distance, the situation in Toniger, and even throughout all of Erluin had been tumultuous for months. At this moment, it seemed to converge into this final clash; who would change the fate of the kingdom—Brendel looked ahead, then turned his head, “So you all heard that?”
“Beat them up!” The mercenaries thundered in reply.
“Beat them up!” The centaurs were stirred, this was the life they sought, chasing after battles endowed with glory until the last drop of bl**d was shed. Perhaps war itself had no meaning, but protecting the beliefs and the most precious things between hope and faith was always worthy of respect.
The tree spirits placed their bows across their chests and began to sing the battle songs that had spread widely between humans and elves in earlier years.
The great eagle spreads its wings, bows and crossbows raised high, light conquers darkness, hope guards faith—
That was an ancient ballad passed down since the era before the Holy War, a time when the wise beings of the land could still unite to fight against the Dark Dragon, signing a sacred and solemn oath. But a thousand years have passed in the blink of an eye; who still remembers all of this?
Brendel and Quinelle exchanged smiles.
“How to fight?” the leader of the tree spirits asked.
“You all go hold off Rendener’s army,” Brendel replied casually. “Since Parsons wants the Grussians to hold me off, I will crush his left flank to show him. These noble lords always look down on others, and from now on, I hope they remember this lesson.”
“Just you?” Quinelle looked at him in surprise.
“Just me?” Brendel smiled and shook his head. He turned back and put his fingers to his lips, letting out a long whistle. The whistle echoed far and wide in the dark coniferous forest, allowing everyone on both sides of the battle to hear it.
Suddenly, the forest fell silent.
Then, from a distance, a wolf howl was heard. Moments later, howls echoed back and forth, the distant wolf howls seemed to be approaching with incredible speed, and in just a moment, the howling sounded clear as if it was right by their ears.
The earth began to tremble, like thousands of horses thundering.
Parsons abruptly pulled the reins of his warhorse to a stop; the old knight’s expression changed slightly beneath his iron mask. All the knights beside him halted simultaneously, turning toward the direction from which the howling came.
A pack of wolves, but not just any wolves.
The residents living on the edge of the Black Forest knew best what sort of creature that howling came from. “Black wolves!” The first to panic were the mountain folk, people who had lived in the wilderness for generations, with numerous terrifying legends about these creatures from mythology.
At this moment, they could only think of one thing.
The wolf tide.
“The wolf tide has come!”
The old knight’s face turned pale.
And Quinelle looked at Brendel, who stood alone like a kn*fe on horseback amidst the rushing wolves, as if seeing the wolf shepherd from mythology. Brendel turned back and smiled at him gently, “Is this enough?”
Quinelle said nothing but raised a hand with a bow, making a gesture for the tree spirits to attack.
In an instant, countless flying horses soared from the forest.
…
(PS: The cold is slightly better, but I need to go out to get some medicine, so I’ll stop here for today. Tomorrow Brendel will begin a killing spree, you know what I mean. I might even give a little explosion.
Also, about that ‘I will unite to form ’ thing in the comment section, have some self-respect; can you be a bit more perverted? What Brendel felt was indeed the reaction of a divine artifact, and the Lionheart Sword is indeed a fantasy-level weapon; as for the reasons, you can guess yourself.
By the way, Shadow Mother, I discovered you secretly speaking ill of me in the comment section. The Night Staff and such are basically bugs…)(To be continued. If you enjoy this work, please come to Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendations and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
