The Amber Sword

v3c377
Maynild’s Journey(2)

The final counter-plan was quickly adopted.

Freya wondered how Senior Maynild and Balta had convinced the nobles. Perhaps Archbishop Wood just thought of it as an opportunity. In any case, she had finally managed to maintain the army’s retreating pace for the time being.

This was the last chance.

The next 20 minutes would determine whether or not the coalition of human armies would be able to fight the Devils to confront them for an hour, which sounded unimaginable. However, that was what the people of Aouine were hoping for.

There was a refreshing coldness in the heavy rain as if a steel blade was affixed to it.

Marquis Balta split the garrison of the Fort Bunio in two and merged the main force of the White Lion Legion with the students of the Royal Cavalry Academy. Then, he placed this army under Maynild.

This was something that would never have happened in Aouine in the past. The nobles never gave up their armies and power, as their greed made them cling to what they had like eerie spirits.

Maynild shouted coldly, “Leave her alone! Any of us could die here. Let’s carry on with the will of the dead. Stop looking back.”

The White Lion’s battle flag was crossing the entire battlefield.

……..

Marquis Balta, who was covered in blood, watched as the holy white army got smaller and smaller in the rainy night. An old man of the White Lion Legion had once told him that the White Lion had a soul of its own when it had promised to become the guardian of the White Lion Legion along with the late ruler, Erik. Thus, the soul of the Legion was resting on this lion.

Of course, this was just a legend.

Marquis Balta never believed such absurd rumors, but he also had to admit that such a soul did exist in the White Lion Legion. Not in the lion, but in every man of this legion.

The cavemen, who had been repulsed, had left a trail of corpses between the broken walls. They were meant to be sacrifices, but unfortunately, most of the White Lion Legion’s men had lost their lives during the attack.

The soldiers in the city watched as the cavemen spread over the ruins like receding seawater while many huge figures appeared behind them.

Hellhounds and Barbarian Devils appeared on the battlefield.

The second wave of the attack was imminent…

“Watch out from above.”

“Lord Marsha, this is endless.” Someone looked at the ugly creatures in the darkness and muttered, “Do you think those nobles back there will come to support us?”

“You’re daydreaming.”

A burst of low laughter permeated the city. Marquis Balta wiped his face while this laughter echoed and asked back, “How are we doing over there?”

“Looks like we’ve reached the intended attack site, my Lord.”

Ten minutes to go. Balta nodded.

What could happen in ten minutes?

There was not a single person in the entire battlefield who could answer. Hundreds of Cave Lizardmen Archers on the makeshift barricade of the village of Medao were skillfully firing, a reddish-orange light over their heads providing magical protection and preventing rain from dampening the longbows.

Honestly, this seemed a bit redundant to Maynild—they simply did not have the ability to strike at long range anymore. The humans were running out of ammunition, the top brass had lost everything, and Mephisto the Ash Sword Saint and the powerful vampire had lured the head of the Devils away from the battlefield. Unfortunately, the remaining Paladins were dwindling.

Grandmaster Fleetwood was in the sky, limiting the Devils’ air force, but his ability to delay them had diminished significantly. More and more Barbarian Devils were being liberated to join the battlefield.

Maynild took out her pocket watch and looked at it.

Meanwhile, the siege ladder had been erected.

The soldiers of the White Lion Legion in the silver-gray armor at the front were the first to attack, climbing the siege ladder orderly and tackling their way up the makeshift wall. Unexpectedly, the frontal attack was blocked twice. There were plenty of Minotaurs behind the city wall, and the human soldiers were merely sending themselves to hell.

She quickly realized this.

Time was running out. Maynild drew her sword as the soldiers of the White Lion Legion were hindered from returning for the third time. She looked back and saw that Aouine’s flag was still above the city wall of Fort Bunuo.

Perhaps only Lord Marsha knew how long it would last.

“Freya, come with me. I will lead the charge myself this time. If we don’t succeed, let us die attacking.”

“Knight Commander…”

“We’re running out of time.”