FREE USE in Primitive World

They were completely and utterly outnumbered by four to one.

“So, what do you suggest, kid?” Thauren grunted, crossing his massive arms over his chest. “You want to run?”

“No,” Sol smirked, a cold glint flashing in his silver-crimson eyes. “I want to bait them. We use a defense-in-depth strategy, combined with a classic feigned retreat. An inverted wedge.”

Sol drew a new charcoal line right across the center of the hunting grounds, splitting Thauren’s plateau strategy.

“We don’t put our heaviest veterans on the ridges first,” Sol explained, using Earth’s military history, he had watched while eating instant noodles at 3 am, after all which man didn’t had the dream of leading the troops and slaughtering the enemies, and it just happened to fit in their situation perfectly.

“We put our weakest units… the new recruits and the reserves…. right in the center of the valley, down in the low ground where the enemy expects us to be soft.

We make them look exposed. When the Coalition attacks, our center will fight hard for a few minutes, then intentionally buckle and start a panicked, messy retreat back toward the rocky pass.”

“You want to use our children as bait?” a veteran commander growled, stepping forward angrily. “They hadn’t even learned anything yet, and you are sending them to the center of war? They’ll be slaughtered!”

“They won’t be alone,” Sol shot back coldly. “I’ll be leading the center. The retreat will look real because they will be running. The Coalition is arrogant, and they know our numbers are low.

The moment they see our center break, their commanders will lose their minds with bloodlust.

They’ll break their disciplined formations and sprint forward to crush us, funneling their entire four-thousand-man mass straight into the mouth of the valley to chase the routing recruits.”

Sol’s finger slammed onto the high ridges Thauren had pointed out.

“And that’s when you drop the hammer. Thauren, you hide the best troops and the veteran bone-shield units up on the petrified ironwood ridges, completely masked by shaman illusions and surroundings. Warchief Veylara takes the right flank.

You guys don’t show a single spear until the entire enemy horde is pulled deep into the ravine, chasing my retreating center.

Once they’re entirely in the throat of the pass, Thauren slams down from the left, Veylara slams down from the right, and I will pivot to lock the front.”

The war room went completely silent as everyone stared at the map. The strategy was wild. It was a massive gamble that relied on absolute timing, split-second coordination, and a center force brave enough to play the victim without falling apart.

Even though they didn’t want to admit it was an absolutely brilliant strategy.

“An anvil from the sides, and a wall at the back,” Veylara murmured, her eyes gleaming with a sudden, vicious light as she calculated the tactical reality of the trap. “We turn their own massive numbers against them.

In that narrow ravine, four thousand men will just crowd each other, stepping on their own dead and rendering their spears useless.”

“It’s incredibly risky,” one of Thorne’s remaining elders wheezed, his hands shaking. “If the center doesn’t hold the pivot, or if the enemy notices the flankers, the entire tribe’s bloodline is wiped out in an afternoon!”

“Everything we do today is risky, old man,” Thauren rumbled, a huge, terrifying grin breaking across his scarred face. He looked at Sol, his yellow pupil eyes burning with raw excitement. He slammed his fist onto the table again, this time in absolute agreement.

“But this… this actually gives us a shot at killing them all. I like it. Let the yellow-skins think they’re hunting rabbits until the lion drops on their necks.”

Veylara looked around the room, seeing the grim, dangerous determination settling into the faces of her captains. The initial shock of the Zharun betrayal was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, calculating hunger for a massacre.

She looked back at Sol, her expression firm and unyielding. “So it is settled, we will use Sol’s strategy. We will use the inverted wedge. Sol will command the center bait. Thauren, take the high left ridge. I will hold the right.”

Instantly, there was intense murmur in the room, everyone was shocked by Veylara’s determination and her trust in Sol. Even though this strategy was brilliant, shouldn’t they discuss it thoroughly before finalizing like always.

“Anyway…” Veylara didn’t care about the loud murmurs and continued, her voice instantly silencing everyone. “Veynar have lived in this jungle for generations by relying on our own claws, not the fake promises of southern bastards.

We will face the enemies alone. And after finishing with them, we will march south and settle the score with those Zharun bastards.

They dare not honor the sacred pact? Then the political marriage will be annulled with blood, and we will bring Lumi back home to the spires where she belongs.”

She looked around the circle of elders, her gaze lingering heavily on the trembling men of Thorne’s faction, before her eyes finally settled squarely on Sol, who stood casual and quiet at the front of the table.

“We are not going to sit behind these wooden walls and wait for them to build siege lines,” Veylara declared, her voice rising in pitch, echoing powerfully out of the high stone chimney of the hall until it could be heard by the thousands of warriors waiting in the streets below. “A prey doesn’t wait inside a cave for the wolves to dig her out! Thauren is right.

We will move the entire active Vanguard force into the Hunting Grounds by noon. And using the strategy suggested by Sol, we will seize the stone plateaus, lock down the ironwood ridges, and build our positions.

We will fight them in the brush, we will fight them in the ravines, and we will turn that entire valley into a literal slaughterhouse until the Coalition breaks!”

“Mobilize the Warriors!” the Lion Commander Thauren, the highest authority among warriors roared, his face twisting into a savage grin as he slammed his chest plate with his forearm, the impact sounding like a mini-explosion in the enclosed room.

There was silence for a moment, before the room instantly erupted into a frantic, deafening roar of approval.

Every single commander turned around, shouting commands to their runners, drawing their bone-blades, and tearing out of the High Hall as the war room dissolved into a fast flurry of military motion.

The political games, the cowardice of the council, and the fear of the dark were entirely burned away.

The war wasn’t coming down their trail anymore; they were going to face the war themselves.

The massive gates of the tribe were opening, and the Veynar were marching out to hunt.

Sol didn’t join the loud shouting, and he didn’t beat his chest armor. He just reached down, casually adjusting the leather scabbard of the Dreadwing Blade at his hip.

A cold, hungry smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as he stared at the map, his mind entirely detached from the political drama of the Zharun betrayal.

Thousands of targets, Sol thought, his Layer 2 Sun Core thrumming with an intense, expectant vibration in his gut. That’s a lot of essence just sitting in the grass. Hopefully, I’ll be able to upgrade my Free Use energy again during this meat grinder.

A.N:

Guys, it’s almost end of month and only a few days left before the end of event.

And we’ll, our current ranking is miserable, so I hope that you’ll be a bit generous and send some gifts.

And don’t forget we are having a mass release on 31st my BIRTHDAY.

Don’t disappoint me.