Book 3: Chapter 93 (1/2)

“It’s weakening! Keep up the assault!”

Ralph frowned at the commander’s voice coming from behind. Apparently, something almost as dangerous as the dragon up ahead had flanked the army without anyone noticing. He still didn’t know what it was since it was impossible to see through the ocean of people since he was in the middle. But he could see up ahead, and the dragon was clearly becoming a lot weaker. It was even showing signs of wanting to flee, but arrows the size of javelins were embedded inside of it, and red chains hung from their wooden ends.

Cheers came from behind, and Ralph scratched his head. Whatever it was, it must’ve died. Now all they had to do was finish off the dragon and—an ear-piercing shriek rang over the cheering, causing Ralph to flinch. Or not.

“There’s another one coming this way! W-wait! There’s a whole herd of them! Get them, men!”

The sounds of explosions and flying arrows along with the clashing of metal and the breaking of wood echoed out from behind. Ralph turned around, a deep frown appearing on his face. The army seemed to be splitting into two. A gap had opened up behind him. Should he wait for his turn against the dragon, or should he fight the unknown enemy that had taken the attention of half the army? He didn’t sign up to fight any unknown enemies. Wait. He didn’t sign up to fight a dragon either.

“What are you standing around for, soldier!? Can’t you see the dragon’s almost dead? Help the people behind us!”

A voice coming from the front broke Ralph out of his thoughts. Ralph nodded, reaffirming his belief that being a soldier was nice. He was in a dilemma, and it was solved for him. He turned around and headed another wave of men towards the rear of the army where the clashing sounds were getting fiercer. Just what kind of enemy awaited him ahead? Soldiers were flying into the air as if they were launched by catapults, falling on top of other soldiers trying to help them.

Ralph raised his shield just in time to prevent his face from being impaled by a stray spear. Then he collapsed when a man fell on top of him. The man groaned as Ralph rolled him off. “Hey,” Ralph said and nudged the man who had a deep, gaping wound in his chest that Ralph could see through. It was like he had been pierced by a ballista. “What are we fighting up there?”

The man groaned again and hissed as bubbles leaked out of the corner of his mouth. He tilted his head up and took in a deep breath before wheezing out the word, “Cows….”

Ralph tilted his head. “Cows? The things we milk?”

The soldier in his arms shook his head. It was an almost imperceptible movement. He gasped for breath and whispered, “Magic … cows…. Im…print…ed.” The man’s head dropped to the side, his eyes glazed over. Then his body melted into a puddle of red goop that disappeared into the ground.

Ralph sighed. Magical cows? Imprinted magical cows? The only creatures with imprints that were left were dragons. Everything that had imprints were killed off long ago when humans conquered the lands. Did that mean these cows were as strong as dragons? Evidently not since so many of them were required to separate half their army from its main mission, but cows? Really? Where did these imprinted cows come from?