204 Confrontation (1/2)

Corco's axe rushed through the cold air and got lodged in an enemy shield. In a hurry, the king used his own shield to defend his side from a counter while he yanked at his weapon. Although the axe didn't come loose, he took the shield and the entire attached warrior with him. All he needed to do was make a step to the side and the enemy warrior landed on the ground. He didn't even see the man's face before two of Corco's guards rushed in and made short work of the last straggler this side of the wall.

Before Corco had arrived at the front, his people looked in trouble. Now however, they had already pushed them all the way back down the hill. Still, stabilizing the center hadn't been Corco's goal from the very start. He had only chosen to charge down the middle their defense looked weakest there, but the arrows had all come somewhere from the left. Now that he was near the front, he was looking forward to catching that bastard Herak and teaching him the lesson of a lifetime. Maybe then the bastard would no longer chase him like a scorned lover.

”To me!” he shouted, and amassed a large group of warriors around him. ”We are breaking out!”

What was the point of a defensive battle when the wall was already in such a sorry state? A charge down the hill would have no worse an effect than stubborn insistence and would be much better for morale. Most importantly, it would bring him ever closer to Herak's reckoning.

Led by Corco and his guards, the army rushed over whatever was left of the snow wall. For the first time since the start of the battle, the southern army was on the offensive.

__________________________

Alcer made an awkward step to climb over the corpse of a fallen ally and suddenly the feeling returned to his numb legs. With it had come the fire in his veins. Though he was surefoot again, the pain made him gasp for air. This was the third time he had gone through this cycle of pain and numbness.

Still, he wouldn't give up. His eyes never left the banner not far away, the king's own.

”To the king! Charge!” he heard in his ear. When he turned, Alcer saw Guman the hunter. At some point during the earlier battle they had lost each other, but now they were reunited again. Although Alcer was supposed to be the commander, he was the one to receive orders now. Yet when he heard the shouts from all the men around him, he understood right away. The message hadn't come from Guman, it was relayed from the center, from the king's position.

Alcer stumbled back, picked up the axe of the fallen warrior he had just stepped past and turned his head to his side, to further spread the king's command.

”To the king! Charge!” he didn't think twice before he followed Guman towards the front.

__________________________

More tight-lipped than usual, Herak scanned the battlefield. Even for a merchant, the little king was quite clever. As Herak's shots had gotten more and more accurate, the bear of Borna had pinned down the little king behind his guards. All he needed was a single slip-up from his foe to get his revenge for all the evils that had befallen him back in Borna, to make up for all his shame and loss. As a nice aside, he would even be able to fulfill his brother's mission and have real hope of returning home to his lands and regaining his former power as the Duke of Balit.

Once Corco was dead, the southern barbarian lords would be confused and without a leader at least for a while, more than enough time for Herak to prop up a few of them and establish a solid foothold in Medala, one they could thoroughly control. Thus, they would be able to establish a neat trade route through this little land-bridge to the mystical lands of Chutwa, where the roads were plated with gold.

However, the clever little king had realized that he would not be able to escape Herak's arrows and thus had fled to the front line, into the confused mass of Medala warriors.

Looking up from halfway down the mountain, the entire scenery seemed like an unreadable mess, but Herak had been in enough battles to decipher the situation. King Pachacutec's central warriors were being pushed back. Ever since Corco had joined the battle, they had been losing ground and were now driven down the hill. Any more of this, and they might just collapse completely. Of course, Herak could have continued to fire if he wanted to help out his allies. A few well-placed shots to take out the enemy officers would destroy the command structure the defenders had built and rob them of their momentum. Herak didn't care.

All this time, he only stood there with his bow in hand, and scanned for an opening to fire at Corco. He had traveled too far waited too long for his revenge, and he wouldn't miss his chance today. So what if they lost the war as a result? Now that he had seen their so-called allies fight, he understood that Medala was not much of a threat to Borna's plans.

Their warriors were powerful cultivators, but their equipment and even more their tactics were antiquated. If they continued to fight these bone-headed, unstructured melees, they would soon run out of cultivators, and then their entire ancient system would collapse. Further, if push came to shove, Herak was confident that he and his men could retreat without any losses, so why should he care about his allies?

*There!*

As Pacha's warriors were driven back, Herak caught a little fleck of shiny silver in between the mass of bodies, right beneath Corco's opulent new banner. Without the need for thought, he drew his bow and fired his shot. Yet before it could reach its target, the bodies shifted again and the hole was closed. Although the arrow pierced the back of his ally, it only elicited a low growl of discontent from Herak. While his eyes resumed their search for an opening, he drew another arrow from his back.

__________________________

Even when he saw his troops get pushed back, Pacha didn't get worried. He knew how to turn the tide of battle. All this while, he was only focused on the purple banner in the distance. As soon as the enemy commander was dead, the defenders would collapse – as would the entire south – and the war would be over. With the southern lords scattered, he could pass the Narrow Sea and swallow the entire south. From any point of view, there was nothing more important than his revenge. Thus he pressed on.

His axe swung a large circle around his body and threw the defenders to the side like paper dolls. Even with only his left, the hero king was still stronger than most everyone on the battlefield. Not to mention, half of Corco's troops were pitiful mortals who could offer zero resistance to his might.

As Pacha drove through the southern rows like a nail, his men gathered around him and followed. For the first time, he could make use of all the tactics he had learned over the years in the palace and his heart jumped in exhilaration.

Pacha, could feel I: Rather than a sterile dueling arena, the midst of a chaotic battlefield was his home more than any other. From time to time, he would slow down to gather his men, or send them out in various directions to reinforce his line and support his push. Yet he never lost focus of his goal. His will fixed on a singular point, Pacha pressed on towards the southern king's banner in the distance.

*No more tricks, nephew. I hope you will offer good counter this time.*