Chapter 219: Twenty-fourth Episode: Chapter 9-1 (1/2)
Chapter 219: Twenty-fourth Episode: Chapter 9-1
Translator: EndlessFantasy TranslationEditor: EndlessFantasy Translation
On the morning of Church's year 801, the 23rd day of the 5th month, Venus turned light red. The servant of the God of Light would say that this symbolized tragedy or disaster on earth. Just as the morning mist emerged from the depths of the earth, the endless hills were plated in a layer of dull grey, like giant beasts creeping in their nests, occasionally letting out a few weary growls.
Suddenly, floating flames appeared on the southern slopes. More and more flames gathered, clearing the morning mist gradually. Then, the earth began to tremble, and the sound of horse hooves approached from afar. The pulsation of the flames became gradually distinct. Those were the torches of the knights, flickering brightly. The volume made by the countless cavalry awakened the earth and the sky. The southern wind blew the mist to the bottom of the valley which was then carried by the knights who were rushing out of the valley.
Through a misty ridge, a scout fastened the telescope with utter satisfaction. Although the field of vision was unclear, he could still gather accurate information from the number and extent of the flames.
The scout leaped onto the back of the horse. He called out to the reconnoiters pacing back and forth at the hilltop.
”Return and report to the headquarters that the entire Slovenian Royal Guards has passed through Westell Pass.”
Not knowing which reconnoiter replied, he was seen merely shaking his shield and the knight to his left immediately followed him and darted into the thick fog. There were many dewdrops in the mountains and there was a fine layer of droplets which had settled onto the armor of the knights.
The Narcissus flowers on the shield were vivid and life-like, complementing the fierce tiger totem carved onto the knight's visor.
It was probably yesterday afternoon that the Narcissus Knight's Ceres Front, Seist Front, Krem Front, Liszt Front, Traisen Front, Rayshure Front, and Nedgabel Front entered Slovenia through the three-border barracks. They rushed for ninety over kilometers from the battlefield passageway of the Southern Army Group that was left empty and arrived at the predetermined battlefield at two o'clock that morning.
According to the combat deployment of the Lighthouse Strategy, the Narcissus Knights' first attack on Army Group's predetermined battlefield was at thirty kilometers southeast of Potimisino Village. There were hills connected to it. Before the hills were the thousand-acre wasteland outside Westell Pass that was historically an ancient battlefield that the cavalry charged across.
Around six something, the King of Slovenia, His Majesty Tirana XI was stirred from his sleep in the wobbly royal carriage. Two days of army life had almost caused him a nervous breakdown. This noble king never got up so early, nor tried to change his clothes without an attendant.
His Majesty the King's carriage was like an enormous iron cage. In order to protect the country's ruler from the ravages of the religious enthusiasts, the Slovenian Palace Defense Department specially custom-made a massive carriage wrapped in a galvanized iron sheet, weighing more than four tons for the King. In the summer morning, there was still sea breeze and cold and humid fog. Once it was noon, the king would think that the mission of the carriage was only to torture him more cruelly.
However, the silence before the war was the real torture of both sides. Compared to Tirana XI who was heartless and egoistic, Marshal Figg Andrew Tibotty was way more cautious.
The leader of the Narcissus Knights had only slept less than twenty hours in four days. The staff officers and military guards saw him as a devil beast. However, Figg was aware that those gazes had no intention to offend him but were the opposite instead. The knights respected him, loved him and talked to him in respectful tones just like when talking with the elders.
”Mostly?”
”10...18!”
Figg chortled. He even patted the little soldier on the shoulder. The little soldier straightened up and held his chest high. The Commander of the Narcissus Knights turned his horse's head around and faced the next one.
”You, old friend! You're not dead yet?”
The veteran opened his mouth and the smell of overnight tobacco rushed out. ”Marshal! I'm still waiting for you to send troops again to Baghdad West!”
Figg laughed even harder and it was not easy to find a veteran in the Knights who had followed him on an expedition to the holy city of Persian anymore. That was a matter of more than ten years ago.
”Soon, soon! You will definitely have a part in it!”
The veteran, having received the marshal's promise, saluted delightedly. Hence, Figg turned to the next one.
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At this time, the sun had already shown its bright red face from the eastern horizon. Although it was merely a semicircle, the brilliant morning sun had cleared the mist and closed in on the edge of the world. High above the fiery red earth in the sky, the mountain eagle spread its broad wings and with the ray of light and its instincts as its guide, it glided through the clouds. The empty plains outside Westell Pass had no traces of animals. This made the mountain eagle perplexed. It not only had to worry about breakfast but at the same time, it had no choice but to take the risk and leaped into the jungle which was sparkling with a metallic glow. It did not know why a forest would appear in the wilderness. The forest was silent with only the neighing sound from the creatures called horses which could be heard every once in a while.
Those who had not fought face to face with the Narcissus Knights were unclear of just how powerful this group of military force which was loyal to the Andrews for generations was. Even the worshippers of the Narcissus Knights only dug out the profile of these knights from past legends. When two hundred thousand Narcissus Knights divided into fronts on the left, middle and right, the people would not associate it with a battle because it was more like a beautiful military parade.
To confirm whether the deranged scout was lying, Tirana XI swept his breakfast aside. He personally led a team of Paladins and headed toward the ends of the wilderness.
The wretched scout was right...a cavalry! The cavalry stretched on infinitely forming a forest which was bathed in sunlight. The silhouettes of the Narcissus Knights spread out from the ends of the wilderness to the undulating hills. The glimmer of weapons was a sight to behold and where there was a breeze, the military flag fluttered. The King of Slovenia swayed on the horse's back. His diviner, the Royal Guards of his Kingdom, his previous life of extravagance and the palace that was filled with all sorts of rare playthings were like an extremely amusing dream.
The paladin who had nothing to say supported the delirious king back to the front which came to a halt a long time ago. The commander, who had led them to go against the invaders, cowered on the spot and let out strings of crazy talk until someone handed over Andrew's written war challenge. Only then did he know how to be furious.
”Son of a bitch, shameless, perfidious invaders...” Tirana XI painfully raked through his lacking mind for all the filthy words and phrases. It was at that moment that he thought of the breakfast which he did not manage to enjoy. When he had taken his seat at the dinner table with a spread of dishes, the final generation monarch of Slovenia's Tirana Dynasty finally calmed down. He drank wine together with the officers who dined with him. Perhaps it was the despair he felt of the road up ahead that the king actually started to blame himself.
He listened to the advice of the military and released the Marshal of the Kingdom, imprisoned in the rear team. When Tirana XI saw the bruised and swollen face of the old Marshal, he was in pain and in a loss of words. His mucous and tears splattered on the Marshal. Just like he always did when he was young, he rebuked his culpability.
Moved by the scene before him, Marshal Fernandy forgave his poor ruler. He said that people in the world would make all sorts of mistakes. However, the old Marshal already had no time to comfort the extremely dejected Majesty the King. Firstly, he took over the authority as the Royal Guard's commander and sent out all reconnoiters and scouts. At seven something in the morning, the spies who had ventured out returned to the great front of the Royal Guards. They called to attention the battlefield information they had gathered on the Marshal's sand tray. Fernandy's face filled with dread as he watched on. The people of Narcissus had spread out a four-mile-long cavalry frontline at the front of the battlefield. The number of people who had participated was also three times more than his army.
After a protracted silence, the old Marshal embraced his ruler. He had never done this since Tirana XI became King. After three seconds, the Marshal cast aside the matter he had vowed loyalty to for generations and swiveled around to face the despairing soldiers.
”Since I can't change the enemies, then I will prove to the enemies that they can't change me either!”
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Unending cheers of the Slovenian soldiers rang out across the plains. The soldiers of the God of Light were saying their final prayers. The warriors who believed in the True God kneeled on the ground facing the pilgrimage city. The knights of different religions were exchanging blessings while the officers of different sects were chatting and laughing.
At nine thirty in the morning, the last standing Army Group of the Kingdom of Slovenia spread out in a row at the outer perimeter of Westell Pass at three kilometers away from the Narcissus Knights. They did not respond to the unelaborate written war challenge of the Andrews nor did they dispatch symbolic battlefield envoys. They used their decisive battle formation to explain everything. The warriors of the True God had raised the New Moon, a five-star flag high above at the center of the formation. The believers of the Light's flag of a crescent moon with shining stars were also scattered among them. All officers were standing at the frontlines. They sized up the enemies, the battlefield, the Marshal, and the country ruler who was going to lead them toward glory and death.
Tirana XI had drunk a lot of wine. There was a pool of vomit on the back of his horse that was emitting an awful stench. Marshal Fernandy suddenly felt that the king at that moment had truly become a ruler of a country. All the previous cowardice and timidity were gone. What replaced them was continuous ravings and increasing filthy curses instead.