Deep within the Châlons Forest lay the Greenskin Fortress.
Snowflakes danced across the battlefield as a neatly organized army of fifteen hundred advanced. Shield-bearing swordsmen and sergeants slowly pushed forward with their shields, while crossbowmen and woodland guards of the wood elves mixed among them. Dwarven riflemen formed three rows by themselves, with no one daring to stand in front of them.
Not far away, the Greenskin Fortress was already badly damaged, many parts completely destroyed. Goblins struggled to repair the towers, but the dense barrage of arrows and dwarven gunfire kept them cowering within the fortress, unable to raise their heads.
"Fire!" Some goblin archers attempted to retaliate, barely managing to stand up behind the fortress's battlements to shoot back at the serf crossbowmen.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh~" Sparse arrows flew towards the allied soldiers, many serf infantry quickly raised their shields in defense, though a few were unlucky and got hit, thankfully not in vital areas.
"Light of Fi's Protection!" A young witch apprentice was striving hard to cast spells.
Light of Fi's Protection, a second-circle spell, was a simple protective magic.
Bright platinum light surrounded the witch apprentice as she tried to gather the power of the Wind of Magic, but the faint sensation made it agonizingly difficult for her.
"Focus! Naomi, imagine—envision your magical construct, then fill it with the power of the Wind of Light, and release it in one breath!" Veronica loudly instructed nearby. "Focus! Control yourself!"
"Control…" The witch apprentice concentrated deeply, slowly forming the power of the Wind of Light in her mind.
At last, the bright Wind of Light was controlled by the apprentice named Naomi, who released a protective bright light that enveloped the serf infantry. This spell was a very basic protective magic, and its effect was modest at best. The Light of Protection could only shield the soldiers from regular arrows and basic spears for two to three minutes, and it only covered a row of seven to eight soldiers—a meager accomplishment.
Yet, for witch apprentices who usually stayed indoors attending lessons, this was an invaluable practical experience. Those who practiced magic near the wizard's tower felt the reality of the battlefield for the first time, witnessing many soldiers getting injured or even losing their lives due to their delayed spellcasting.
Such was the cruelty of the battlefield.
Veronica, seeing the apprentices finally grasping the reality of war, nodded satisfactorily. Then, a powerful spell was chanted by the Witch of Garonne, as a massive fire elemental sphere formed before her.
The fire elemental sphere, larger than a cow, exploded and burned in midair, melting all the snow on a large patch of ground.
Eighth-circle magic, Fireball!
Veronica's fellow witch, Catherine, also chanted: "Flash of Searing Gaze!"
A white orb of magical energy formed in front of Catherine. Searing Gaze was a fourth-circle spell, a rare direct damage spell among the Light magics.
"Ah, ah, ah! Me thinks that fireball be untouchable!" A goblin shaman on the wall panicked, shouting the name of his wolf mount: "Lads, don't blame me, I told ya, if ya can't hold them, I'll run faster than you!"
With that, the goblin shaman mounted his wolf and rushed towards the mines below the fortress.
"Thinking of running?" Veronica shouted fiercely, and the terrifying fireball flew straight towards the goblin shaman. The fire elemental sphere wasn't very fast, but the fireball successively blasted a section of the wall, a watchtower, and a Mohr statue, showing no signs of stopping.
"Waah! Me thinks me gonna be blasted!" The goblin shaman wailed as he urged his wolf to flee faster, the flames from the fireball igniting the wolf's rear, causing it to whine pitifully: "Wuu wuu wuu~"
"Boom!" A huge explosion left nothing but ashes.
Dwarf engineer Dugan Ironhand raised his thumb, pointing towards the Greenskin Fortress's gate: "Elevation forty-three degrees!"
"Forty-three degrees!" The dwarf heavy cannon swiveled its barrel, aiming at the gate of the fortress. The engineer took out a cast-iron cannonball, inserting it into the rear of the barrel.
"Fire!"
"Boom!" A dull sound echoed as the cannonball traced a perfect parabola in everyone's view, a wisp of blue smoke dispersing in the air, the gate exploded, wood splinters flying everywhere, the tall gate was blown open.
"Charge! Charge!" The sergeants rushed to the breach in the gate, many goblins behind trying to use planks and stones to block the hole. Sergeant Denis immediately pointed at the gate: "Eliminate them!"
"Ah!" The sergeants and crossbowmen surged forward, a dozen hand-crossbows squeezed at the gate opening, firing a volley of bolts, hitting many goblins. Kingdom Knight Hex shouted: "Those reloading, fall back; those loaded, advance!"
The soldiers reloading their crossbows quickly retreated, those who had reloaded pressed at the broken gate, aiming and firing, the goblins trying to block the gate suffered heavy casualties.
"We can't hold it, we can't hold it!" The goblins repeatedly failed to repair the breach, morale collapsed, and the serf soldiers raised their makeshift siege hammers, slamming them fiercely at the vital points of the gate, the wood that held the gate issuing a painful cracking sound.
The gate fell, and a large group of questing knights and sergeants were the first to storm into the Greenskin Fortress, shouting the Lady's name, ruthlessly eliminating all living beings they saw. The serf infantry followed closely, goblins not being particularly strong combatants, the serf soldiers, after a series of battles, were no longer afraid of the beastmen and goblins. Sparse resistance within the fortress was quickly overwhelmed by the human army's tidal wave, and treasure-seeking wood elves and dwarves joined in.
"The goblins have nowhere to run now, Lord Anglaron," a Cupbearer Knight named Armand spoke happily to Anglaron from a bow's distance outside the fortress.
Snow clung to the white bear fur on Anglaron's back, his hands carrying a large bundle containing mithril—known as the most durable metal in the Old World: "Good, the purpose of this military exercise was achieved, and so was mine."
"The rest of the follow-up is up to you, Armand. I'll stay here, hurry up and clear the battlefield, burn down the fortress, and we can break camp and retreat. After this battle, the greenskins and beastmen in Châlons Forest won't recover for decades." Anglaron nodded calmly: "Go, don't fail my brother's trust."
"Lord Anglaron, won't you take a look?" Armand mounted his purebred elven warhorse, asking one last question: "You were appointed the chief by the count."
"Ha~ My brother sent me here to be a mountain, and a mountain, does not move. If the mountain moves, then we have already lost the war," Anglaron lifted his bottle of top-quality Kislev vodka, its crystal clarity enhanced by snowfl
akes, resembling a beautiful winter scene: "Go."
"Yes!" Although Anglaron was not a Cupbearer Knight, Armand knew the formidable strength of the man before him. The flag-bearer and deputy no longer spoke, they galloped away.
Anglaron tilted his head back and drained the vodka in one go, then wiped his mouth clean with a large hand. After the Butcher's Nails were removed, the Devourer gene-seed had long realized that intelligence and cautious strategy were more effective in achieving desired goals.
"These days are truly comfortable," the fiery sting of the vodka made Anglaron feel thoroughly relaxed as he watched the Greenskin Fortress burning. He chuckled.
...
At seven o'clock in the evening, a small banquet was held in the Earl's castle, conducted in the grand hall where servants lit the fireplace, and hosts and guests gathered around the long table in high spirits.
A dozen griffon knights sat to the left of Ryan, mostly sporting sideburns, dressed in the noble attire of the Empire, each exuding a fierce aura, their red and white coat of arms adorned with the symbol of a yellow griffon. Leading them was Ryan's brother-in-arms, the griffon Earl, Anton Ferdinand.
To Ryan's right sat his fiancée Sulia, followed by twelve Cupbearer Knights assigned to protect the Lady's witch Morgiana. They wore various family crests on their armor, but the symbol of the Cup was consistent among them.
Servants lined up to bring in the food. First came the butler, Carsenberg, with bread and butter, followed by the wine steward and his assistant, bringing wine and beer.
"I have prayed to the Lady, I cannot and will not take a stance, Anton," Ryan sat at the head of the banquet table, the bright magic chandelier illuminating the entire hall, the earl elegantly spoke with a hint of cryptic intent to his brother-in-arms: "I am the Lady's chosen champion, I cannot act impulsively."
Anton paused for a moment, then hurriedly nodded in understanding: "I understand, I understand."
If just any knight told the griffon Earl that this was the Lady of the Lake's will, Anton would surely think they were spouting nonsense, but coming from Ryan, Anton believed without doubt.
According to the Empire's intelligence network, Ryan was deeply favored by the divine, with the Lady of the Lake, protector of the Knight Kingdom, frequently appearing or manifesting miracles around him. Ivan had even tried to find suitors for Ryan, still searching when news came that Ryan was already engaged.
Anton's gaze then shifted to Sulia, the noble and captivating lady knight was Duke François of Wunfort's legitimate daughter, and moreover, she was betrothed by the divine decree of the Lady of the Lake. Even by Anton's own standards for a partner, Marchioness Sulia was a top-tier match, yet the Lady of the Lake had betrothed such a beautiful noblewoman to Ryan, which spoke volumes.
The dark elf maid Olica brought out a tray with Tomato Tillerin pasta, a soft-boiled egg, and a large slice of marbled steak. The steak was tender and well-marbled, in addition to dwarf Bagman beer and exquisite elf pastries laid out on the table.
These were not only untried by the Empire's griffon knights but even the Cupbearer Knights who had been stationed with Ryan for some time had not tasted these delicacies. Everyone chatted and laughed, the Cupbearer Knights generally had good relations with many of the Empire's knightly orders.
"May I boldly ask what the Lady's will is..." Anton then whispered to Ryan: "I do not intend to pry into the oracle, what I mean is…"
"I will remain silent and neutral in this war, Anton," Ryan speared a piece of marbled steak, whispering back to Anton: "The Lady does not wish to see human infighting, but also does not permit me to oppose Lord Casvane. The original Duke Paravion, Agilger, was one of the twelve original Cupbearer Knights, and the Paravion family has a long and storied history within the kingdom."
Anton mulled over several thoughts, reluctantly nodding: "I know you've tried your best, Ryan, this outcome isn't bad, but can you persuade a few dukes, especially Lord Berchimond and François, to remain neutral?"
He needed Ryan to produce some solid results, otherwise, he couldn't return to report.
Ryan appeared thoughtful, quietly eating his steak.
Anton also held his composure, both men falling into silence.
At the banquet, the Cupbearer Knights and griffon knights were competing in drinking, devouring large amounts of meat, a group of Cupbearer Knights alone could consume an entire pig's worth of meat and a whole barrel of wine. If not for Ryan's elevation to earl and his expanded wealth, he really couldn't afford to let these Cupbearer Knights eat freely.
Sulia, as the lady of the castle, skillfully coordinated everyone at the banquet, resolving many minor conflicts seamlessly. Her noble gown swaying lightly, all the knights at the banquet were happy to give face to the hostess, and the guests enjoyed themselves.
The knightess made a round and then approached Anton: "For your and everyone's health, Lord Anton, let us drink this cup to the full."
"Good!" Anton, without much ado, drank a cup of wine with the help of a servant: "To your honor, Lady Sulia."
"To your honor, my brother!" The knightess smiled, lifting her goblet, she just sipped lightly, her ivory-like skin tinged with a faint blush, seeming not to handle her liquor well.
After draining the cup, the knightess naturally leaned on Ryan, seemingly casually saying: "Lord Anton, please understand Ryan's difficulties, some decisions are hard for him to make, he is just an earl, he doesn't have much to persuade the dukes with."
Ryan seemed slightly displeased, softly pinching Sulia's hand and whispering something in her ear.
The couple's actions didn't escape Anton's notice, he began to understand what Ryan meant.
The griffon Earl waved to his knights: "Bring that here!"
"Yes!" Two seemingly drunken griffon knights immediately sobered up and regained their composure.
Ryan looked puzzled at Anton.
"Ryan, I know this matter is troublesome, being caught between us truly puts you in a difficult position, so I definitely won't let you suffer," Anton's face carried a faint smile: "This time, I brought you something nice~ Want to know what it is?"
Two griffon knights pushed a huge square box inside from the outside, Anton raised his hand, signaling everyone to remove the black cloth.
"What is this?!"
"Guess what? Hehehe, I just won't tell."
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