Chapter 120
[ Chapter 120 ]
Thermania Highway.
This main road, traversing the southern part of the Crovence Kingdom, started from the western gateway city of Kadva and extended to the eastern border at the Gloten Mountains. Unlike the well-paved roads of the Principality of Chatan or the Kingdom of Graim, the Thermania Highway, worn by years of footsteps and carriage wheels, was one of Crovence Kingdom’s primary trade routes.
A long procession of carriages stretched along this highway.
Hundreds of oxen and horses pulled the heavily laden carriages, their drivers, both elf and orc slaves, holding the reins. Surrounding them, about a hundred soldiers escorted the procession.
The sounds of horses neighing and oxen lowing echoed softly across the tranquil highway.
“Moo!”
“Neigh…”
And there were those watching this scene from afar.
Approximately one kilometer away from the carriage procession, hidden within a nameless small forest near the Thermania Highway, a group of soldiers concealed themselves. This was the Count of Piterran’s army, ambushing to seize the prince Yubel’s military supplies.
Observing the carriage procession through the thicket, Count Piterran clicked his tongue.
“This is… Surely Prince Yubel’s side understands the importance of these supplies? And yet, they have barely a hundred men as an escort?”
A young knight standing beside him, Sir Meyer, Piterran’s adjutant, shrugged and replied.
“Considering their circumstances, it would be difficult for them to deploy a large force.”
“Even so, I expected at least five hundred men…”
Count Piterran muttered, furrowing his brow.
Having obtained information about the military supplies, Count Piterran had first sent a messenger to the Mage Tower to seek posthumous approval for his expedition from Prince Carsus. He then immediately mobilized his troops and rushed to this location.
A student of military strategy, Count Piterran estimated that Prince Yubel’s forces numbered roughly twenty knights and five hundred infantry. Given the importance of these supplies, it would not be excessive to deploy all three thousand troops. However, doing so risked leaving Delphia and nearby territories, the main base, vulnerable. Hence, five hundred men seemed the practical limit.
Thus, Piterran also mobilized all his available forces to ensure a decisive victory. He led thirty knights and eight hundred infantry. Winning the battle and capturing the supplies would be ideal, but even if the enemy’s resistance was fierce, his force was sufficient to burn the supplies and retreat.
Yet, the enemy’s numbers were far smaller than expected. While this increased the likelihood of victory, it was suspiciously unexpected, making him wary instead of pleased.
“I’ve already sent reliable soldiers to scout the surroundings. There are definitely no hidden forces…”
As Count Piterran pondered, Sir Meyer offered his counsel in a serious tone.
“It would be wise to examine their composition more closely, just in case.”
“You’re right. Sir Meyer, could you summon Mage Herrot?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Soon, an elderly man in a brown robe approached the Count. He was Herrot, the mage of the Piterran family. The Count instructed him to cast a farsight spell. Herrot poured water into a large basin and waited for it to settle. As he chanted the spell, the detailed image of the carriage procession appeared on the water’s surface.
After completing the incantation, Herrot spoke confidently.
“There is no resistance to the farsight spell. It seems there are no mages among them.”
Examining the carriage procession as if it were right before him, Piterran narrowed his eyes. He muttered, “This is strange.”
There were no knights in sight. Everyone was either walking on foot or riding on the carriages. Only two individuals were mounted, and one of them was a fierce-looking orc, not a human knight, likely a former gladiator slave.
The other mounted individual was human but did not appear to be a knight. He was not dressed for mounted combat. He wore half-plate armor with a single sword at his waist, lacking the lances, javelins, or shields typical of knights. He looked more like a swordsman than a cavalryman.
‘Is that all their cavalry?’
It made no sense. Moreover, his confusion deepened as he observed the hundred escort soldiers.
The hundred escort soldiers were marching in a line beside the carriage procession. They all wore large robes with hoods pulled over their heads. They carried long weapons such as axes, spears, and hammers. Upon closer inspection through the farsight spell, most of them appeared quite small in stature.
‘Such small soldiers?’
Count Piterran clicked his tongue. It seemed they were so short on manpower that they had conscripted children who had not yet fully grown.
Watching the vision with him, Sir Meyer offered his own conjecture.
“Perhaps Prince Yubel’s forces believe this information did not leak. They might think no attack will come. In that case, the only threat to the procession would be starving refugees. Even young boys, if covered in large robes and armed, would appear as soldiers and deter refugees from attacking them.”
“Isn’t that too much of a gamble? Considering the importance of those supplies, they should have at least three hundred regular soldiers escorting them.”
“You might think that because you have the luxury, my lord, but from their perspective, it’s difficult to spare even that.”
Sir Meyer shook his head.
“Prince Yubel’s side can’t afford to split their forces right now. They already have limited troops, and if they split them, our army could invade and cause a disaster. Prince Carsus isn’t refraining from advancing immediately because he’s afraid of losing, is he? It’s essentially a won war already; he’s conserving his strength to minimize our casualties.”
“That’s true.”
“And they can’t afford to abandon the supplies either. So, they probably chose this desperate strategy, hoping for the best…”
Count Piterran nodded at Sir Meyer’s logical explanation.
“You’re right, Sir Meyer.”
They had thoroughly scouted the surroundings, and the farsight spell had confirmed the main force’s situation. It was certain that there were no traps. So, it was likely, as Sir Meyer suggested, that they had devised this desperate strategy, relying on luck.
“It seems Prince Yubel’s situation is worse than I thought.”
Clicking his tongue, Count Piterran ordered the attack. The knights, who had been lying in wait, eagerly awaited the command. Mounted on their horses, with their visors down and lances ready, Count Piterran addressed his knights.
“The enemy consists of pitiable boy soldiers. They will flee in panic if we scare them enough. Show some restraint.”
The knights, not intending to engage in a massacre, armed themselves with smiles on their faces. With a light-hearted spirit akin to going on a picnic, Count Piterran shouted.
“Charge, everyone!”
Count Piterran and thirty knights burst out of the forest, their horses’ hooves thundering as they charged towards the carriage procession. The infantry followed closely behind.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
With the deafening roar of hooves shaking the ground, the knights closed the kilometer gap in an instant, launching a surprise attack on the procession. Count Piterran raised his lance and shouted loudly.
“In the name of the true king, Prince Carsus, I command you! Drop your weapons and kneel!”
Mounted on massive horses and clad in thick steel armor, the knights were like moving fortresses to ordinary infantry, possessing an overwhelming force that was nearly impossible to counter. With thirty knights charging, there should be no courage left in the enemy. As Count Piterran was assured of his victory, something strange caught his eye.
“Huh?”
No one knelt.
No one ran away.
Instead, all the infantrymen raised their weapons, pulling back their hoods as if they had been waiting for this moment.
“Hahaha!”
“You’ve come!”
“We’ve been waiting for you, bastards!”
The voices that came from those presumed to be young boys were surprisingly deep and resonant. Seeing their faces under the hoods, covered in thick beards rather than youthful features, Count Piterran shouted in shock.
“…Dwarves?”
* * *
“Uwaaaah!”
The dwarves let out a resounding battle cry and charged towards the thirty knights. These dwarves, standing just over a meter tall, charged fearlessly at the massive horses and knights instead of fleeing.
One of the knights muttered in disbelief.
“Are they collectively insane…?”
It was an astonishing sight. However, it wasn’t something to be feared. After all, they were just dwarves—a slight improvement over boy soldiers but still merely a lowly slave race.
Count Piterran muttered in shock.
“Who in their right mind would use groundhogs as soldiers?”
Riding at the forefront, Sir Meyer sneered.
“These fools must have lost their minds, thinking they could fight instead of dig!”
Seeing the dwarves, with their short legs, charging at the mounted knights was both comical and astonishing. Sir Meyer, who had closed the distance in an instant, extended his lance towards a dwarf armed with a halberd at the front of the group. He intended to skewer him in one thrust.
“Ha!”
At the moment he let out his battle cry and thrust his lance, the target suddenly vanished.
Sir Meyer, unable to comprehend what had just happened, had a bewildered expression on his face when his consciousness was abruptly cut off.
“…Ah?”
Sir Meyer’s head flew into the air, spraying blood. Count Piterran cried out in horror.
“Meyer!”
It was an unbelievable sight. The dwarf with the halberd had deftly dodged the lance at the last second and then leapt over three meters to behead Sir Meyer.
Sir Meyer’s headless body continued to ride for a short distance before tumbling off the horse. It all happened in an instant. The expression on the severed head still bore a look of confusion, as if Meyer hadn’t even realized he was about to die.
‘How did he do that in one strike? And that leap…’
The shock of seeing a dwarf perform such a feat was overwhelming. The sheer agility and power displayed were beyond anything Count Piterran had imagined.
Count Piterran was in a state of confusion. It would have been astonishing for a mere human to make such a leap, but for a dwarf to accomplish it with those short legs was unthinkable!
Wasn’t that an extraordinary movement reminiscent of an aura user?
“This… this can’t be happening…”
In the meantime, two other dwarves at the forefront swiftly cut down two knights with similar agile movements. The knights began to panic.
“What is that?”
“How can this be happening?”
In an instant, the lives of three esteemed knights had been lost in vain. Everyone was startled by the sight of these dwarves flying through the air to the height of mounted knights. The other dwarves also began to attack the knights.
“Yah-cha-cha!”
“Let’s slice them up!”
“Come at us, humans!”
Fortunately, it seemed that only three dwarves possessed such terrifying leaping ability. However, the other dwarves were no less formidable. Instead of jumping, they fearlessly threw themselves in front of the charging horses. The knights were increasingly bewildered.
“What are these creatures!”
“These lunatics!”
Despite their confusion, the knights swung their spears and swords as usual.
When facing infantry, merely riding the horse would typically yield significant results. Advancing with thundering hooves and sweeping left and right with spears or swords would usually cut down the infantry like harvested wheat.
That common sense did not apply here. The dwarves skillfully evaded the stomping hooves while swinging their axes. Each time, the horses’ bellies were torn open, spilling their guts and causing the knights to fall. Before the dismounted knights could regain their senses, a heavy hammer crushed their heads.
What should have been a suicidal act was anything but, and none of the dwarves showed any signs of tension or fear. They fought with calm expressions, murmuring to themselves.
“We can’t match the Kadamite, but…”
“What’s the big deal? We’ve always fought bigger guys anyway.”
“Riding a horse and swinging a sword isn’t much different from fighting a centaur, is it?”
They dodged the horses’ hooves, parried the knights’ attacks, and counterattacked with incredible proficiency, as if they had done it thousands of times. In just a few minutes, more than twenty knights had lost their lives.
The blood of the fallen knights soaked the earth. At the horrific sight, Count Piterran cried out in despair.
“What in the world is happening!”