Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 833: The Frontier March’s Reversal II

CH833 The Frontier March’s Reversal II

***

Dalton’s greatsword carved broad arcs through the battlefield, cleaving in half every enemy unfortunate enough to stand before him.

He did not bother choosing his targets.

Protected by his condensed, colourless Aura Coating while his Weapon Coating extended the reach of his already devastating blade, Dalton simply cut down everything in his path, whether officer or rank-and-file soldier.

Gunnar’s weapon of choice was rather surprising—An oversized warhammer.

His lanky frame contrasted sharply with the burly physique most people would expect of someone wielding such a weapon—especially one whose hammerhead was disproportionately larger than its shaft.

Yet Gunnar wielded the massive hammer with a grace that was every bit as mesmerising as it was brutal.

As he moved through the battlefield, it almost seemed as though the Stronghold soldiers were voluntarily stepping into the path of his hammer, only to be crushed into pulp a heartbeat later.

The oversized weapon was not merely an instrument of destruction. Gunnar also wielded it with remarkable dexterity on the defensive, continuously swinging it around his body and using the tremendous momentum it generated to keep enemies at bay.

Compared to the others, Dyrk was far less flashy.

Armed with nothing more than a pump-action crossbow, he glided across the battlefield with exceptional footwork, calmly shooting down enemy after enemy without ever slowing his pace.

‘A natural gunner,’ Alex thought quietly to himself.

Dyrk’s movements were a work of art.

Even elite special operations soldiers from Alex’s previous life would have found something worth learning from watching him fight.

In complete contrast to the other five, Havel attracted almost no attention at all.

Rather than the man himself, it was the trail of carnage he left behind that drew the eye long after he had already moved on.

True to his title of Headhunter, Havel separated head after head from its owner’s shoulders, leaving a trail of decapitated corpses in his wake while remaining concealed within the shadows cast by the far more conspicuous fighting styles of the other five.

Had the sheer number of severed heads not become impossible to ignore, even Alex, observing the battlefield with his fully restored Truth-Seeker Eyes, might have overlooked him entirely.

Meanwhile, Sinia and Silver remained atop the walls.

Equipping their custom crossbows, the two women opened fire upon the Stronghold Army below.

Not only did they rain down precise shots upon enemy officers and any soldiers who stood out, but they also provided covering fire for the six warriors charging through the battlefield.

At the same time, they coordinated the domain’s defenders atop the walls, directing volleys of crossbow fire in disciplined succession.

While Alex forbade his weaker troops from joining the battle on the ground, the standard-issue crossbows with which every soldier had been equipped did not remain idle.

Thang!

The snapping of crossbow strings, the flexing of crossbow limbs, and the whistle of bolts cutting through the air blended into a rhythmic, almost musical cadence.

From atop Asheton’s outer defensive walls, that relentless cadence heralded a symphony of death for the would-be invaders.

As devastating as the crossbow volleys already were, Alex gave another signal.

He gestured for the heavier defensive weapons to be brought into action.

The wall-mounted ballistae were immediately swung into position.

Alex knew full well that deploying them at this stage was, strictly speaking, overkill.

The forces already committed had inflicted enough damage that the battle was all but decided.

In fact, a single Warfare-class spell cast by either himself or Zora would have been enough to completely shatter what little fighting spirit remained within the Stronghold Army.

However, that was not the kind of victory Alex wanted.

Rather than resolve the battle through overwhelming personal power, he wanted the Domain Army itself to earn this victory.

Even if that decision meant more blood would be spilled today, Alex gave the order without hesitation.

Boom! Boom!! BOOM!!!

Dozens of ballistae launched artillery-grade bolts into the rear ranks of the Stronghold Army.

The bolts exploded into deadly fragments upon impact, tearing through tightly packed formations and inflicting even greater casualties.

Corpses rapidly accumulated along the invaders’ rear lines until the dead themselves began obstructing any orderly route of retreat.

As the only Combat Master on the Stronghold Army’s side, Baron Benn Stodge did everything within his power to salvage the situation.

He personally held back the bulk of the strange wolf beasts while his subordinate officers worked together to blunt the advance of the domain’s elite warriors and slow their relentless slaughter.

However, the introduction of artillery fire from the walls proved to be the final straw.

Baron Stodge immediately realised that their entire plan had been anticipated, and the enemy had no intention of merely repelling them.

They intended to annihilate their invading army.

There was only one order left to give.

“Retreat!!!” Baron Stodge roared.

The Stronghold Army immediately broke ranks and fled.

But how could the Frontier March simply allow invaders to come and go as they pleased?

The artillery bombardment intensified even further. Even Zora prepared to make her move.

Watching his men fall one after another, Baron Stodge angrily cut down another wolf beast before turning towards the walls of Ashwell and roaring,

“What are you doing, Count Skywalker?! We’re retreating! You dare try to wipe us out? The Stronghold won’t—”

Slash!

Unfortunately for the old Baron, he never finished his sentence.

Two silent attacks struck simultaneously.

His head was severed from his shoulders, spinning through the air before crashing onto the blood-soaked ground.

In the final moments before darkness claimed him, Baron Stodge saw two figures appear nearby his fallen body.

A regal eagle hovering above, and a silent ronin standing over his collapsed body.

Both pairs of eyes glowed with cold disdain before the two figures vanished back into the chaos, disappearing amongst the fleeing soldiers to continue the massacre.

The Baron’s furious outburst had drawn the attention of perhaps the two deadliest precision hunters on the battlefield.

And the commander of the invading army paid for it with his life.

With his death, the battle was effectively over.

The remaining Stronghold soldiers fled desperately towards the tunnel.

However, there was one cruel reality they had failed to consider.

Although the tunnel had seemed spacious enough when they had marched through it in formation, it was nowhere near wide enough to allow scores of panicked soldiers to escape at once.

What had once appeared broad and accommodating now felt painfully narrow.

Only a few dozen soldiers from the original force of five thousand managed to squeeze through to the opposite side.

Yet the moment they emerged from the tunnel, most of them simply fell to their knees as bitter laughter escaped their lips.

The platoon left behind to guard the tunnel entrance had already been reduced to lifeless corpses.

Hovering above them was not a single enemy…

But an entire swarm of giant bees.

The escape route before them was completely blocked, while the mangled remains of their comrades made it painfully clear what awaited anyone who attempted to force their way through.

Turning back was no longer an option either.

From deep within the tunnel came the unmistakable echoes of wolves howling as they closed in.

They were completely trapped.

One by one, most of the survivors sank to their knees, all hope of survival extinguished.

A dozen or so soldiers nevertheless gathered the courage to make one final stand.

Between the wolves and the Vulture Bees, however, their last act of defiance lasted only moments before they, too, were sent on their journey to the afterlife.

***