Building a Kingdom and Conquering the World

Chapter 103  Dismantled

The time it took for wars to end, whether small battles or prolonged conflicts, was determined by numerous factors that shaped their outcomes. Different strategies had to be employed for sieges and direct skirmishes. In sieges, the plan often involved a time-consuming strategy to steadily weaken the enemy by cutting off their supply of water and food, which sustained the citizens within the walls. The attacking force also had to maintain strict control over communication and logistics to efficiently supply its troops and quickly detect any enemy plans. These facts could lead the conflict to extend for days and even months.

Unlike sieges, a direct conflict in an open space could end within a single day. These small skirmishes were bloody and intense, heavily influenced by the number of soldiers, the experience on the general's shoulders, and the morale of the soldiers. The battlefield of these direct conflicts was always chaotic and painted in red, making it almost impossible for the soldiers to fight continuously.

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Almost a hundred miles away from Eisenburg, the capital of Stahl, a fierce battle was unfolding, plunging the surroundings into a state of desperation and chaos. The once-grey skies now bore crimson hues, a reflection of the enemy's blood painting the pristine snow of the North that seemed to refuse to swallow this substance.

In a strategic decision, Luther had chosen to engage the enemy in a direct and open battle. He couldn't let the enemies siege the capital, as it could lead to the death of countless subjects of the king. They could win the siege war, but it would become a counterproductive action. It was best to preserve the people and eliminate the enemies as fast as possible, not giving them enough time to gather their forces and become a headache for Eisenburg and the king.

Henry's command to Luther had been clear: silence the enemies' screams and quash their will to fight, pinning their mouths and hands to the snow without mercy. The thousand cavalry units exterminating Aritreia's troops were only a small step in fulfilling the king's will.

The white-haired general had efficiently deployed Stahl's Cavalry, intercepting the enemies as fast as possible while taking advantage of their speed and mastery of the bow. The cavalry could also easily pierce through their formations, breaking the enemies' morale and instilling fear within their ranks. It was simply difficult for a normal human to remain completely still when a colossal and furious red horse was running at him. No one desired to be run over.

On top of his horse and wielding his bow with a serious expression, like an eagle, Luther observed a line of soldiers advancing with their shields and forming a line of defense across the snowy road. Tens of quivering spears also found their places between the cracks between shields, aiming their tips at Stahl's forces.

"Their morale is shattering" – Luther thought as he surveyed the simple phalanx, without slowing down his horse.

The trembling and untrained spears held by the enemies didn't strike fear in his or the other soldiers' hearts. Instead, it only caused their morale to spike up, giving them more confidence in easily breaking through their defenses.

The old general couldn't help but turn his gaze towards the disheveled king in the distance, who was also watching him with desperate eyes. He couldn't help but spell a few words, ensuring they were understood – "I W-I-L-L T-A-K-E Y-O-U-R H-E-A-D!"

When he finished, he noticed the king's desperation and fear growing in his eyes. From a distance, Luther could see him screaming at his subordinates; his amplified senses could barely understand the meaning of those screams. Alonso wanted his soldiers to focus their attacks on him first. The old general couldn't help but smile with satisfaction.

When they were about two hundred feet from colliding with the shield wall, Luther's eyes made contact with his subordinate. In a quick motion, he secured his bow behind his back and drew his sword from its scabbard. Tightening his grip on the ornamental hilt, Luther channeled the Mana through his body, reinforcing both his sword and himself. He was invincible but also wise enough to understand the situation. This was a war, and he couldn't act on his own; he couldn't afford to break the formation and put his soldiers' lives in danger.

The untrained soldiers of Aritreia couldn't help but tremble as the red wave approached them. They could feel the ground beneath their feet quivering and smell the heavy scent of their comrades' blood invading their nostril. Some soldiers couldn't help but close their eyes in fear.

In the midst of this chaos, a desperate cry erupted from the frontlines, echoing like a wildfire through Aritreia's ranks – "We are going to die!" – Those words seemed to emerge from the depths of the soldiers' soul, shaking the hearts of others.

The scream echoed from a soldier holding the shield at the frontline against the oncoming red wave. His eyes darted anxiously between the advancing enemies and his frightened comrades, a visible shiver of dread running through him. Unconsciously, his gaze settled on a fallen comrade with whom he had shared laughs and jokes just the day before. Those once happy eyes were now staring back lifelessly at him, as if silently inviting him to join in the somber stillness of death.

His knees trembled, urging him to flee as his eyes desperately sought an escape out of this hell until they settled on the surrounding forest, just a few steps away. It was impossible for the horses to reach him there. The spaces between the trees were narrow and the soil uneven, making it difficult for them to catch up with him in time. He had a chance in getting away from here and saving his life. He wanted to go back to his village and hug his wife and children.

The soldiers swiftly threw his shield away that hit the snow-covered road with a muffled thud. In a desperate bid to survive, he forced his trembling legs to run as fast as possible toward the safety of the forest, viewing it as his ticket back home. However, his actions initiated a cascade of treason as more soldiers followed suit. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

And, in front of Alonso's desperate eyes, the shield wall dismantled rapidly.

"Get back in lines!" – He shouted powerfully, trying to reverse the situation.