The First Vampire

13 013 Fugitive_1

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation

Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

“Kill!”

The colossal Troll Army surged forward like an eerie tide from hell, encapsulating a crushing force, it rolled towards the main camp at Mirror Lake.

In an instant, it appeared as if heaven and earth were shattering, and tremendous waves were crashing on the shore. The fragile defense line hastily established within the Mirror Lake main camp collapsed immediately under such an assault.

“Splash!”

“Splash!”

…

The collapsing human army was crushed under the impact of the Troll Army and was pushed row-by-row into the icy lake water. In the disorderly retreat, only a small number of humans who sensed the dangerous situation escaped before the encirclement of Trolls closed in.

“Howl——”

The earth began to tremble amidst the howling of wolves.

The Troll Army’s wings split into two groups of wolf cavalry, heading east and west, each chasing after the fleeing human soldiers.

“Splatter!”

The calm surface of Mirror Lake suddenly surged with enormous waves that assailed the Troll wolf cavalry advancing towards the east.

“Halt!”

The wolf cavalry leader roared with a hoarse voice.

However, the wolf cavalrymen charging rapidly were unable to control their forward momentum.

The massive wave hit like a terrifying giant hand.

“Booom!”

Instantly, hundreds of wolf cavalrymen were swallowed up.

There wasn’t a drop of blood, nor any shattered flesh or broken bone.

The surging wave froze upon touching the ground, forming an ice wall up to ten meters high, which stood directly in front of the Troll wolf cavalry.

Within the ice wall, each Troll cavalryman still held their charging stance from the moment before their death.

Vividly life-like.

This terrifying transformation frightened the wolf cavalrymen at the rear. They all halted in their tracks, hesitating in front of the ice wall with pale faces.

Just as they watched the escapees getting further and further away, a red spear shot out from the center of the Troll Army, tracing a long trail of blood in the sky, eventually stabbing into the ice wall.

“Crack!”

A crack appeared on the ice wall, then more cracks spread out from the spot where the spear hit, instantly covering the entire wall, like a spider’s web.

“Boom!”

The ice wall shattered.

Countless pieces of ice fell down along with the remnants of the wolf cavalry.

“Pursue!”

Following the leader’s order, the wolf cavalry regrouped, resuming their chase to the east.

However, this time around, the wolf cavalry was devoid of the arrogant and reckless momentum they held at the onset.

“There’s a mage among the human escapees?”

Stepping over the crushed ice fragments, a Troll general, mounted on a white wolf, picked up the blood-red spear that fell to the ground.

Clearly, it was he who had shattered the ice wall obstructing their path earlier.

“Kwick, you go after them too, this should be a big fish.” Another Troll, also mounted on a white wolf, came over and spoke to the general who picked up the spear.

The Trolls’ mounts were Ice Plain wolves, vicious beasts that were larger than regular war horses and usually grey.

However, there were a very few Ice Plain wolves that bore white fur.

Such white wolves were revered by the Troll clan as sacred – they were the incarnations of their revered God of War (also known as the White Wolf God) on earth. Thus, only the noble Trolls were eligible to use white wolves as their mounts.

“Yes! Lord Gambick!” Kwick bowed respectfully before leading a team of wolf cavalrymen to the east.

The event here with the ice wall magic was merely a minor episode. The hastily pieced together human army on the main battlefield had already crumbled. They were either begging for mercy on their knees, or were being herded like ducks into Mirror Lake by the Trolls.

Only a few individuals were still resisting fiercely, trying to break through and escape the encirclement.

In fact, quite a few human survivors managed to break through successfully.

Because the Troll Army seemed somewhat cautious and hadn’t deployed all its forces to encircle and intercept the scattering human retreat.

Instead, they kept more than half of their elite forces as a reserve team in the rear, as if ready to guard against something.

The slaughter continued.

Flowing blood kept pooling into Mirror Lake, dyeing half of the lake a glaring red.

The suffocating odor of blood attracted flocks of vultures. They circled restlessly over the battlefield, ready to swoop down for a feast at any moment.

The sun gradually inclined to the West, the flames of the sunset started burning across the horizon while the sounds of slaughter by Mirror Lake show no sign of abating.

At this moment, disturbances suddenly arose from the rear of the Troll Army.

An orderly of the trolls darted before Gambick, reporting loudly, “General! We spotted human army in the rear, approximately four to five thousand!”

Gambick laughed heartily without feeling surprise, “Good! The little lion finally dares to show its head! Haha, we’ll give him another good lesson!”

The coat of arms of the ruling family of North Territory, the St. Hilde family, is a golden lion; the “little lion” Gambick referred to was evidently Marquis Charles, the son of Duke St. Hilde.

This Marquis was supposed to take command of the human side during this combat, anchored at Mirror Lake Base Camp, and combat to the death with the trolls.

But he clearly was not willing nor dare to engage face-on with the Troll Army.

Instead, he issued an emergency recruitment order, attracting a group of mercenaries and militia to fill Mirror Lake Base Camp, acting as bait.

He, on the other hand, led the true army to ambush from the rear while the trolls attacked Mirror Lake Base Camp.

Although the entire plan was a bit brutal, it was certainly a good strategy.

If it could indeed take the trolls by surprise, leaving them unattended at both ends, perhaps they could win the battle.

Unfortunately, for unknown reasons, this stratagem has obviously been foreseen by the commander of the Troll Army who has made proper preparations.

Therefore, when Marquis Charles led the army charging to the rear of the Troll Army, instead of gaining momentum as he had anticipated, he hit a snag.

A bitter fight unfolded from then on.

——————————

The night has deepened.

A half moon hung in the sky, scattering its cold luminescence in the woods.

A group of human cavalry were camping in the woods, yet they did not dare to cook with fire, fearing to expose their target and attract the enemies pursuing from behind them.

It has been three days since the defeat at Mirror Lake.

With three days of fleeing, killing, and bloodshed, this team that originally had over five hundred people was now down to a mere hundred or so.

Under the blockade of the massive line of wolf cavalry, it was truly a miracle that they were able to hold up till now.

Certainly, it was also because they were indeed superior fighters.

Additionally, there was also a spell-caster among them.

Even though up-front one on one combat mages might simply be knocked off by knights or warriors of the same level because nobody would be silly enough to hold still and wait for the Mage to finish reciting without interrupting or evading.

Yet, their importance on a battlefield vastly exceeds knights of the same level.

The ice-wall blocking off the wolf cavalry was a good example.

It was a third level spell and it instantly ended lives of hundreds of wolf cavalry.

But when faced with hundreds of wolf cavalry, even if there were no professionals amongst them, a third-class knight would still exhaust himself to death under their onslaught.

At most, he would bring a few dozen down with him.

The woods were quiet except for sporadic neighs of horses and distant night calls of owls.

Within the camp, most of the people were silently eating their hard, dry bread while only a few leaders gathered together, quietly discussing plans to shake off pursuers behind them.

“Meow!”

“Little White, don’t run around!”

Colin chased after Little White and ended up at the center of the camp.

“Sorry, it’s a naughty one.”

“No worries.”

The female mage deftly caught the kitten trying to crawl up her body, cradling it in her arms to stroke it.

Upon seeing this, Colin nonchalantly sat down as if he belonged there.

The female mage appeared to have detected Colin’s little scheme and did not chase him off, instead she asked: “Which knight are you from?”

Colin looked up at the female mage.

A black veil obscured most of her face, only leaving behind a pair of deep, dark azure eyes that seemed to reflect the deepest desires of everyone’s hearts.

“I’m Colin, Colin Angler.”