Chereads / Dominion Of The Crown / Chapter 11 - War II

Chapter 11 - War II

Pov

Gerald butch

.....

Sitting atop his horse,Gerald watched as the black armored army raced towards them, he sneered inwardly - an army of 2000 charging against 4000?it was either bravery or pure stupidity,

Especially with such a poor formation

Normally they would be at a disadvantage .but this wasn't an ordinary army.His soldiers werent mere footmen -they were warriors, a Calvary charge wouldnt leave them helpless"

So he turned to his army, and sent out orders rapidly

" Get in formation "

" Frontline hold steady "

" The enemy is before you, they aim to take away your livelihood and destroy your home , " he roared hoping to ignite their passion

" Will you let them "

" NO " came the resounding reply

He smiled, normally he wouldn't be in charge of rallying troops-there were other officers more suited for that task

But they weren't here because unlike the grunts of the army, they were educated and knew who they were about to fight against ,as such they had simply refused to fight,

Normally they wouldn't dare refuse ,but the count knew that takimg serious actions against rhe officers would destroy the army's morale, so he let them be choosing instead to lead the more ignorant grunts,

To these soldier although they have faintly heard of the king , to them who were born and raised in the Frostfield domain ,the count was their sky and God.

And obviously they weren't informed who the were warring against.

So he was confident about this battle, the only dangerous part of a Calvary charge was the impact, the impact could be manage properly then the rest was easy

As he watched the enemy Calvary close in, the sound of their hoove clashing with the ground was like a storm, he suppresed the fear In his heart, then calmly issued orders

"Shield" the entire from line stamped their shield on the ground in response.

"Spear " they angled their spear facing slightly towards the sky

The black armored army thundered closer,the ground trembling under the weight of their charge. Gerald's soldiers bracesd themselves, shields locked tight in a defensive wall, spears angled to pierce the oncoming riders. He watched calm and assured , as the enemy's formation funneled directly into their spears- a classic defensive tactic. They just had to hold.

His heart pounded, but he remained confident. The enemy would crash into their spears,and they'd break like waves on rocks

But as the Calvary closed in something unexpected happened. Instead of slowing or crashing into the shield, the black armored riders urged their massive warhorses into the air.

But his eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when he saw what happened next not just him - his entire army stared in disbelief

Gasped filled the ranks as hundreds of horses launched into the air their enormous,muscled forms leaping over the sheild wall with terrifying ease.

A stunned breath caught in the throats of the men at the frontline. spears poised to kill were now useless as the their targets sailed above their heads .they could only look up in disbelief as hooves passed above over them, landing with earth shattering force behind their lines. The weight of the beasts sent shockwaves through the grounds.

Geralds eyes widened as the impossible unfolded before him. His mind raced to process what he was seeing - this was no ordinary cavalry .These monstrous warhorse,sleek and massive,moved with agility he had never seen before. What kind of horses are these?he thought they weren't just bigger- they were engineered for this breed for power and dominance

For a split second silence followed the leap. Then came the slaughter.

Weapons flashed as the black armored Calvary descended into the heart of the army. Polearms and greatswords swung with lethal precision,cleaving through flesh and steel alike. Soldiers screamed as their carefully built formation disintegrated in an instant,crushed beneath the sudden onslaught.

'These men didn't fight like an army' he thought- no battle plans, no commands, they fought like each of them were facing the army alone

The once organized lines collapsed into chaos as the Calvary ripped through the center of geralds army. He could hear the terrified cries of the men as they scrambled to defend themselves, but they were no match for the crushing weight of horses and riders.Blood sprayed the air and shields were tossed aside like paper as the black armored soldier tore through everything in their path

Panic clawed at him, he's orders had been sound - this wasn't supposed to happen'

Gerald sat atop his horse, the chaos of battle swirling around him. He watched the black-armored cavalry tear through his ranks like a scythe through wheat. The sound of clashing steel, the screams of the wounded, and the thunder of hooves filled the air. His heart raced, but his mind remained sharp. He wasn't a commander by any stretch, yet he knew the battle was slipping from their grasp. So, he did what he always did in desperate situations—he fought.

Scanning the battlefield, Gerald's eyes locked onto the enemy leader. A towering figure clad in black armor, wielding a halberd with terrifying precision. Every swing of that weapon left blood and bodies in its wake, severing limbs and decapitating soldiers as though they were nothing. It was clear—this man was no ordinary warrior.

He spurred his horse riding towards him, believing killing the enemy general would salvage the situation.

Suddenly, the leader's helm turned slightly, eyes sweeping across the battlefield. He lifted his halberd and pointed directly at Gerald. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the weight of command. Almost immediately, one of the black-armored soldiers broke from the ranks, his steed kicking up dust as he charged straight toward Gerald, following his leader's silent order.

Gerald's blood ran cold. He spurred his horse forward, knowing there was no escape—his only option was to face this enemy head-on. His sword raised high, he charged, weaving through the chaos toward the oncoming rider. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed forward, hoping that if he could take down this soldier, it might shift the tide of the battle.

But as they closed the distance, Gerald's eyes caught a glint of steel. The rider's sword was already swinging for him. He barely had time to react. Twisting in his saddle, Gerald brought his sword up just in time to block the strike, the force of the blow reverberating through his arm. The impact was far greater than he'd expected—it nearly knocked him from his horse.

His eyes widened. This was no ordinary rider.

Before he could recover, the rider spun his horse around, coming at him again with terrifying speed. Gerald barely managed to hold onto his reins as another blow struck his sword, this time sending it flying from his grasp.

Thrown from his horse, Gerald scrambled to his feet, heart pounding. He had never faced an opponent like this. The rider dismounted with smooth precision, his sword drawn, moving toward Gerald with unshakable purpose. There was no doubt in Gerald's mind—this soldier had been sent to kill him, and he wasn't going to stop until the job was done.

Desperation took over. Gerald's hand went for his side, but his sword was gone. He took a few steps back, frantically looking for anything to use as a weapon. The rider continued to approach, each step measured.

The rider's eyes never wavered, cold and focused beneath the steel helm. He raised his greatsword high, preparing to bring it down in a deadly arc. Gerald, in a final, futile effort, raised his hand to shield himself, hoping somehow the strike would be stopped.

But there was no hesitation in the rider's movements. The sword came down with brutal force, slicing clean through Gerald's raised hands as though they were made of air. His arms fell uselessly to his sides as the blade continued, severing his head from his shoulders in a single, swift motion.

Gerald's vision spun as his head tumbled through the air, his body collapsing to the ground in a lifeless heap. The last thing he saw, through the fading blur, was the rider sheathing his sword and looking back toward the black-armored leader, as if awaiting further orders.

And then, there was only darkness.