A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 1007 - The Counterattack - Part 6
1007: The Counterattack – Part 6
1007: The Counterattack – Part 6
“Summon the Red Commandants,” General Khan said.
“We will make our heads hard, and our hearts harder.
This is not a wall that these Stormfront men can breach.
They will run headfirst into us, and find that their speed has left them, and that our forces surround them.”
“Yes, General!” Yadish replied, his confidence suddenly beginning to return, as a small smile rose up to his lips, despite his nervously beating heart.
Of course, Khan would not fall so easily.
There was no foe that could render him helpless.
This was a man of deep wisdom.
No matter the chaos or the complexity, he would find understanding.
The way ahead for Oliver and the rest of Karstly’s men was drenched in a curtain of strangeness.
They’d breached yet another line of soldiers, as the space between themselves and the tower of the enemy General continued to shrink.
The resistance seemed to be lesser.
It was hard to really tell, given that their blades were still meeting enemy flesh, and they were still spilling blood, but nevertheless, that resistance undoubtedly felt lesser than it had been before.
Their enemy routinely employed large gaps of space, just as they continued to employ their archers to thin the numbers of the advancing men, but even with such efforts, there was hardly any blunting of their charging momentum to be had.
It was almost an illusion of strength – as if they were getting stronger the more ground that they covered.
The strangeness of it made Oliver feel alarmed.
It was less like the enemy was resisting them, and more like they were dragging them in.
There was a stirring of troops in the area near the Verna General’s tower – he assumed that there was to be some sort of change there.
Something that the enemy was relying on, in order to blunt what now only continued to rise up.
Contrary to Oliver’s own unease, Karstly stayed firm in his path.
He shouted the same word again, and he shouted it gleefully.
“FORWAAARDDD!” He said, without the slightest trace of apprehension.
The footsoldiers were inspired by that shout, and they raced ahead, feeling the strength given to them by the lack of resistance.
The shield walls changed, and the path changed with it.
A gap was offered to them.
It was a gap that was made to look like a mistake, as if they’d simply not managed to adjust their formation in time, but it inevitably held the whiff of a trap.
Still, Karstly charged straight towards it, ignoring the wall of shield wielders that he could have blasted through, just as easily before.
Now that Oliver’s sword was temporarily not needed – given that there were no men to strike down – he called out to Verdant, announcing his suspicions.
“The enemy intends to draw us in!” He shouted, over the sound of thumping hooves and battling men.
“Indeed,” came Verdant’s reply.
He wore a similarly troubled expression, as he eyed the back of the General in front of them, who seemed so unaware of the worries of those under him.
His expression was carefree.
It could be said that he was even elated.
He took General Khan’s invitation to go deeper, and he took it without hesitation.
Oliver thought that he was to be left in the dark once more, just as the rest of their soldiers had been, but before they crashed into the next line of men, General Karstly called out to him.
“The head nears closer, Patrick!” He said, turning his head only slightly to call over his shoulder.
“Will you fulfil my earlier order and take it for me?”
It was an ask that couldn’t be met with a quick response.
Oliver’s eyes widened.
He looked up at the tall tower looming in front of them.
It only seemed to be getting taller the closer the came.
The enemy was atop that tower.
An enemy of a station far above any that he’d slain in the past.
Of course, he’d slain Talon – but that was not a Talon at his best.
A General was only at his best when he was commanding an army of thousands.
“I will!” Oliver said, despite his unease.
It was an opportunity that he couldn’t afford to let slip twice.
They were nearing now.
It seemed almost guaranteed that they would make it.
If he could place his hand on the rungs of that ladder that lead towards the tower’s top, then who could stop him?
It was a genuine thought.
He didn’t know.
He knew as a leader, he had much to learn.
Karstly and Khan had shown him levels to the game of Command that Oliver previously hadn’t even been able to imagine.
But when it came to a Sword, who could show him levels that he had not seen already?
His teacher was Dominus Patrick.
He’d seen how a man fought when he crossed the Sixth Boundary.
Who could best that?
“My Lord…” Verdant said, acknowledging the weight of the situation as well.
They hit another shield wall, and made it straight through.
This was a mere single line of men.
Another area that the Verna General seemed to have purposefully thinned.
He was guiding them closer, without a doubt.
Oliver thought that even the lowest of footsoldiers ought to be able to see that by now.
“We will secure the position at the base,” Oliver told the man.
“Then, I shall climb.”
“What of I?” Blackthorn asked.
She’d overheard the conversation.
For glory, she was like a dog that knew the scent of food.
Rarely would she miss such an opportunity.
“I will take you, if you make it with me.
There is doubtless to be more than one man atop that tower,” Oliver said.
“…Then I will command the troops from the ground,” Verdant said.
The difficulty of such a decision was written on his face.
No doubt he wished to ascend as well, but there was only so much space that the tower could accommodate.
Too many men, and they’d only get in each other’s way.
That tower that the General had built could hold more than a dozen men at its top.
With that confirmed, Oliver raised his sword, and gave a shout to his men.
“WE LOOK FOR A GENERAL’S HEAD!” He told them.
“FIRYR, JORAH, YORICK!
FOLLOW VERDANT’S INSTRUCTIONS.
OPEN A PATH TO THE BASE OF THAT TOWER, AND I’LL GRAB YOU A GENERAL’S HEAD FOR YOUR EFFORTS!”
