Chapter 239 – The Battle of the Evenhart Duchy
Soldier Blyn:
I could hardly believe what I was witnessing. We had been camped here for days due to the military exercise. The relentless rain that had plagued us for two days only added to the oppressive atmosphere, the somber weather mirroring the silent unease that hung over everyone. Then, breaking the monotonous tension, a boy appeared, walking calmly out of the forest toward our camp.
The alarm was immediate. Every soldier was on high alert, hands instinctively reaching for their weapons. But as we looked closer, we realized he didn't appear to be a threat. It was just a boy, perhaps 15 years old, but there was something about him, something impossible to ignore. He moved with an unsettling calm.
He stopped in front of us, his eyes, intense and stormy like the sky before a tempest, fixed on the distant fortress walls. My superior, who had initially seemed confident, froze the moment he got a good look at the boy. His eyes widened in recognition, and tension rippled through his body like a taut string about to snap.
The boy introduced himself in a firm, unwavering tone: Nathan Evenhart, one of the heirs to the duchy. At first, my comrades and I struggled to believe it. It was hard to reconcile someone so young with a figure of such significance. But my superior's reaction confirmed the boy's words. His posture, expression, and voice carried an undeniable authority.
They exchanged a few words, and even from a distance, I could catch snippets of the conversation. Nathan spoke with a chilling composure, an unnerving determination for someone his age. What I managed to understand hinted at some sort of duel.
"I'm doing this to spare as many lives as I can. Otherwise, I'd have already started destroying everything from out here… The men outside were sent to die. The ones inside are the real culprits."
My superior glared at him with skepticism and mockery. "And what are you going to do!?" he retorted, shoving the boy toward the fortress walls as if testing the limits of his resolve.
I watched as the two moved away. Nathan walked ahead, with my superior following behind, visibly unsettled. The distance between the camp and the fortress was considerable, yet with every step they took, the air seemed to change.
I lost track of time, but at some point, the rain that had tormented us for days began to shift as the boy approached the fortress. It was as though the storm was following him, the clouds moving in tandem with his steps.
From afar, I watched the boy disappear into the horizon. My comrades and I gathered, trying to make sense of the situation. Unusual movement near the fortress gate caught our attention. Soldiers with drawn swords surrounded what appeared to be the boy's location.
"Was that really an Evenhart? A duchy heir?" I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.
"Doubt it," muttered the soldier beside me, shaking his head. "Why would he come here alone, out of nowhere? If he were a high-ranking noble, there'd be an entire retinue. I don't recall any meeting being scheduled."
He had a point. Nothing about this situation made sense.
"And there wouldn't be a military exercise like this, either. It would offend a high noble's honor," added another soldier.
"The nobles allied with Lord Wolves have been acting strangely lately," I noted, glancing around at the nearby camps. "Holding meetings with Marquis Nikolaus… and now this? A joint military exercise is rare."
My train of thought was interrupted when I noticed soldiers around me beginning to look skyward. One of them opened his palm, examining something falling gently from above.
"Snow," he murmured, confused.
Winter had already passed, and there was no reason for snow at this time of year. Before I could voice my disbelief, a cold flake landed on my nose. I blinked, startled, as the icy sensation spread. Looking around, I noticed thin wisps of vapor escaping each breath. The temperature was plummeting fast.
"This isn't normal," someone muttered in the background, their voice tinged with uncertainty.
"What the hell is that?" a man shouted, pointing toward the forest.
I moved closer with a group of soldiers to figure out what was happening. About ten men were already staring in the same direction, all equally perplexed. When I looked toward the horizon, at the edge of the trees, I was left speechless by the sight that unfolded.
"Are those... maids?" I asked, incredulous.
Among the trees stood several feminine figures, motionless, staring at us from afar. They wore impeccably aligned maid uniforms, with black masks covering their noses and mouths, leaving only their eyes exposed. Each bore the traditional maid's headpiece, but what truly caught my attention were the objects in their hands.
"They're... spears," someone beside me murmured, their voice barely audible.
In perfect synchronization, the maids began spinning their spears with precision. As if a single entity, they slammed the spears against the ground with force.
BAM!
The sound reverberated through the air, a deep echo that felt more like a warning than a display of power. As the sound faded, the maids turned in unison and disappeared into the trees without a trace. We stood frozen, paralyzed by the eerie silence of the forest, which now seemed even more unsettling.
"What the hell was that? This is insane…" muttered a soldier beside me as we drew our swords, our instincts screaming danger. The enigmatic presence of those maids left a lingering sense of unease and fear that quickly spread among us.
Suddenly, a deep, distant sound pierced the air.
BUUUUUUM!
The trumpets blared, echoing through the trees with a grave, foreboding tone.
"What's happening?" a commander yelled as he ran toward us, his expression tense. More soldiers began to gather, drawn by the ominous sound that seemed to come from everywhere at once.
Looking up, I saw birds taking flight in panic, their dark silhouettes stark against the gray clouds. A suffocating silence followed, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Then, the trumpets sounded again, louder, reverberating like a harbinger of doom. A cold wind swept through, cutting from all directions like invisible blades. The chill grew more intense, and soon snowflakes began to fall, blanketing everything in a white shroud.
"Grab your weapons!" the commander bellowed, his voice brimming with urgency. "All of you, now!"
The silence was broken only by the howling wind, which seemed to carry distant whispers. The gentle snowfall quickly turned into a blizzard, engulfing everything in a frozen chaos.
WHOOSH!
A fierce gust tore across the field, bringing with it a biting cold that seemed to cut straight to the bone. The sudden icy onslaught was accompanied by a crushing silence, amplifying our anxiety and throwing the soldiers into high alert. Chaos erupted as we scrambled in all directions, trying to arm ourselves and prepare for the worst.
The snowstorm intensified with each passing second, and visibility vanished entirely. A dense, suffocating fog enveloped us, making it impossible to distinguish friend from foe. It felt as though we were trapped in a white nightmare, where even our own footsteps seemed like distant echoes.
"It's the work of a mage! Stay sharp! Take your positions!" the commander shouted, his voice a mix of desperation and authority.
Before we could react, CLINK! The sharp sound of metal cutting through the air rang out, followed by a sickening SQUISH, the unmistakable noise of flesh being pierced. We all turned in horror to see our commander collapse to the ground, a spear embedded squarely in his chest, piercing through part of his armor. His wide, unblinking eyes were frozen in the moment of his death.
"AHHHH!" A piercing scream broke the chaos as another soldier seemed to be dragged into the forest by an invisible force.
Panic set in. My grip tightened around the hilt of my sword as fear gnawed at every fiber of my sanity. Around me, the soldiers exchanged terrified, confused glances, resembling cornered prey with no escape.
"We've lost visibility!" someone shouted nearby, their voice trembling.
The storm consumed us completely. The wind howled like a ghostly lament, and the snow fell so thick it felt suffocating. Screams of pain and terror erupted from all directions. Men were being struck down by an unseen enemy that seemed to toy with us, while the freezing mist became our prison.
"Damn it!" I shouted, sprinting toward the faint flicker of a nearby torch. Along the way, I saw fire mages desperately trying to respond, their hands glowing as they cast orbs of heat into the air, attempting to melt the snow and clear their vision. The flames created distorted, dancing shadows but revealed nothing of our attackers.
"Run!" someone screamed as they bolted past me in sheer terror. The soldier was missing an arm, his face twisted in agony and fear. The scene was pure chaos.
When I finally reached the heart of the commotion, the clashing of swords and anguished cries filled the air.
The visibility cleared just enough to reveal the horror before me. The battlefield had transformed into a grim spectacle of lethal precision. Maids fought with surgical skill, their spears spinning in impeccable synchrony.
Clink! The metallic ring of a parry echoed as one of them deflected a soldier's sword with the shaft of her spear. In a swift, fluid motion, she crouched, and another maid leaped over her back. Before the soldier could react, the second maid drove her spear straight into his face. The man collapsed, dead the instant the weapon pierced his skull.
All around me, the chaos was dominated by their deadly dance. The maids moved like shadows, twirling their spears with such mastery that every strike resembled a choreographed execution. Their steps were light, almost graceful, contrasting sharply with the grotesque sounds of flesh being punctured and bones shattering.
"No survivors!" a cold, commanding female voice rang out.
A commanding figure emerged among them, clearly their leader. She spun her spear with blinding speed and, with a fluid motion, unleashed sharp torrents of water that slashed through the soldiers ahead. Cries of pain and terror filled the air as bodies crumpled.
Adrenaline surged through me, and without thinking, I charged at the leader, gripping my sword tightly. But before I could even reach her flank, she turned, effortlessly intercepting my strike with the shaft of her spear. In one swift movement, she spun in the air and delivered a powerful kick that sent me flying several meters back.
The impact with the ground was brutal. Pain shot through my body as I struggled to catch my breath. Before I could rise, I heard quick footsteps in the snow. The leader approached, gliding over the icy ground like a predator stalking its prey.
I felt the tip of her spear press against my neck. "AH!" The cry escaped my lips as the cold metal broke my skin. The pain was excruciating, but her eyes revealed that this was only the beginning. Without hesitation, she pressed harder, twisting the blade to amplify my agony before wrenching it free with cruel precision.
"No survivors," she repeated, her voice as chilling as the snow around us. Her words felt like a final decree.
BOOM! A distant explosion echoed, but it was too late for me. My vision dimmed as the pain became unbearable. For a fleeting moment, I saw the spear's tip descending toward my eyes, and then nothing.
The world around me vanished, plunging into eternal silence.