“The Eastern tower has been completely destroyed,” another arrow found its mark. “We detonated the charges at the Western border, but the monsters have broken through there. They’re already storming the barrier.”
“Are we still holding them back?”
“See for yourself, my General.”
Lian pointed toward one of the distant cliffs. A swarm of beasts was already circling the golden dome there. They were charging it, trying to tear into it with their fangs. Inside the dome, a wall of shields and spears awaited them.
Simon had done his job perfectly. In just two months, he’d found weapons and armor for most of the army.
“They’ll find the way in soon,” Hadjar muttered.
They’d left a small arch hidden behind the rocks and snow. If you didn’t know where to look, you’d never find it on purpose. However, with every animal that got through the hole in the wall, the more likely it was that they’d accidentally bump into it. And then…
“If the dome doesn’t fall first,” Lian pointed at one of the giant hieroglyphs circling above the pavilion.
It was covered in cracks. Gold dust flew from it, disappearing into the air.
Hadjar cursed and looked at the area in front of the fortress. A battle was raging. Humans versus beasts. Swords and hammers against claws and fangs. Nero’s heavy sword flashed. Apparently, he’d fallen down from the parapet.
“Send up a signal arrow. We’re retreating under the dome.”
The ice fortress had completed its original task. It had met the tsunami of monsters like a breakwater and protected the people. The monsters had continued on and hadn’t tried to destroy everything in their path. Only the most hungry and evil among the animals had separated from the horde. The others preferred to go around the obstacle.
Hadjar looked to where the people had been desperately trying to get in.
There was only silence. Someone would occasionally scream when their attempts to fool the beasts—by pretending to be dead—didn’t work, and they got torn apart. Where once there had been villages, now only a sea of fur, skins, and scales stretched out as far as the eye could see. The statue of the God of War looked down at everything going on.
Lian pulled a special arrow from her belt and shot it into the sky. The arrow burst into multicolored sparks and the horn sounded again.
Hadjar jumped off the parapet. He was just in time to plunge his blade into a wolf that had been getting ready to jump on Nero’s back. They nodded at each other and began to cut their way through to the arch. The soldiers were already heading there, which the beasts that had broken through the wall noticed. Some unfortunate soldiers were lifted by powerful paws and torn to pieces, their blood drenching the snow.
Others were grabbed by their legs and dragged through the snow. The two friends managed to save some of them, but most had lost their weapons and became food for the hungry creatures.
Hadjar and Nero helped the miserable victims they couldn’t save... by killing them and the monsters. Their blades glittered as they set about their grim duty.
Together, they covered the retreat of the fortress defenders. When they were once again inside the dome, they immediately got behind the parted shield wall.
“Hold the line!” Hadjar cried. “Spears at the ready! Archers, ready!”
More and more animals didn’t find food as they broke through the ice barrier. They would sometimes fight each other over the dead bodies, but not often. Most of them kept circling the golden dome, trying to get inside.
The warriors that had taken up defensive positions were waiting for one of two things: when the creatures found the arch, or when the barrier fell.
The archers took up positions on the roofs of the houses, barracks, various buildings, even the roof of the hospital.
Finally, a wolf sniffed, walked along the barrier, and poked its snout into... emptiness. Howling, it rushed through the passage it’d found and was immediately impaled on a dozen spears. But hundreds of other creatures followed after it. The beasts’ claws and fangs flashed, trying to break through the wall of shields and spears.
The warriors held.
However, this kind of formation was good against people, not creatures distracted by hunger and bloodlust. The animals would find even the smallest cracks in their defenses. They were strong and their heavy bodies piled on top of the shields, crushing them. They weren’t afraid of spears or swords. The dead bodies of their fellow beasts didn’t deter them.
They smelled flesh, blood, and fear, smells that intoxicated and lured them in.
The wall broke down and Hadjar shouted, “Put away your spears! Fight!”
Throwing the spears aside, the warriors took up their weapons: swords, axes, hammers, maces, bludgeons, and chains. They rushed into battle with the enemy. It was claw versus metal, fangs versus teeth.
Hadjar and Nero were in the thick of it. Their blades sliced through flesh and bone. Their Techniques impaled and dismembered dozens of creatures. Standing back to back, they sank deeper and deeper into the blood-soaked earth. They were covered in so much sweat and dirt that they didn’t look like people anymore.
With every swing of his blade, Hadjar began to feel his heart beating faster. He was enjoying the battle, but… He wanted to discard his sword and bite into his foes, tear them apart with his bare hands.
The General suppressed his inner beast and swung, sending an enraged dragon flying out of his blade.
Serra’s spell hit.
It was the same spell that had once served as a signal in the battle against the nomads.
A rain of white fire and lightning came down from the sky. It struck right in front of the dome, turning the beasts’ bodies into cold ash. The animals howled, growled in anger, and then ran away from the fire and death.
Feeling somewhat relieved, Hadjar continued to fight the beasts that had managed to break through the dome.
He stabbed and slashed the enemy with dogged determination. Dirt covered his entire body and only his blue eyes shone furiously, a clear sign that the Lord of the Heavens had been awakened by the battle.
With each new life taken, an inhuman roar tore itself from his throat.
His sword flashed, bones and bodies crunched under his feet, and the blood in his veins boiled.
After a while, his blade sparked.
It took Hadjar a moment to realize that it was the spark of steel meeting steel. He was already turning around, ready to crush the enemy with all his might, but he was stopped by a familiar voice: “Calm down, Hadj. It’s me.”
Immediately, despite the haze that had settled over him during the furious battle, Hadjar was able to recognize his friend’s face, which was also covered in dirt and blood.
They stood there, in the middle of the parade ground full of the bodies of animals and people alike. It was a disgusting mix of corpses, blood, and earth. Behind the dome, the lightning bolts kept striking, but it was clear that the majority of the horde had moved on—toward the forests, fields, and valleys. They’d spread out there, settle down, and find new pastures and hunting grounds.
“We-”
“We survived,” Hadjar nodded. “We survived…”
[Completion of the event recording: “Coding Anomaly…’]
He couldn’t bring himself to call it a victory. But in this world where only strength ruled, survival was sometimes more important than any kind of victory. And they’d survived.
Hadjar sank to the ground, right into the mud and blood.
He would have time to give orders, send people to gather wood for funeral pyres, to visit the thousands of wounded in the hospital, to shake the village chief’s hand, and, perhaps, even dispatch some soldiers to assist in the restoration of the villages… later.
All of that could wait.
Right now, he was just interested in staring up at the sky as large, white snowflakes fell down.
Chapter 158
“This time, my General…” The healer of the Bea
r squad was bandaging Hadjar’s wounds after applying some of the healing mixture to them. “You came far too close to residing in your forefathers' house.”
Hadjar didn’t move. He was on the same bed where his comrade had lain a few months ago while dying from the sect Master’s poison. After that battle, it had seemed to Hadjar like the hospital had been overcrowded due to all the wounded.
He’d learned just how wrong he’d been back then. After the invasion of the beasts, there had been so many wounded soldiers that they’d had to build some new barracks immediately. They’d built them on the parade ground, which meant they’d had to disassemble all the training equipment and even level some of the pavilions.
The bodies of the people who’d died in the battle or succumbed to their wounds afterward had already been piled up, although only one day had passed. The soldiers were tired after having to carry firewood all the way from the plains to erect the funeral pyres.
Many of the soldiers looked at Hadjar with respect bordering on worship. Some of the wounded that were in the same hospital as him, despite the terrible pain they were in and their impending deaths, sometimes tried to get up and salute him.
There was a lack of healers, so every soldier who wasn’t busy with other duties was assisting the healers. Hadjar saw Lian, despite being lightly wounded herself, bandaging someone; Helion, who had lost several fingers on his left hand, was consoling a warrior who was on his deathbed.
“Thank you,” Hadjar nodded.
He got up, and one of the soldiers was immediately placed in his bed. Bleeding, missing his legs and hands, he was delirious and kept calling for his daughter.
The General left the hospital because he was just lightly wounded, like thousands of others. The doctors would quickly deal with them and then move on to more serious injuries.
The invasion of the beasts may have been over, but it had caused considerable damage, like any other natural disaster would have.
If the nearest pavilion of the sect attacked them at that moment, even the memory of Hadjar’s army would be purged. Hadjar walked among the sick like a farmer through a trampled field.
Sometimes, the soldiers saluted him, but more often than not, they just welcomed him with a simple, “My General.”
Nero had miraculously ended up with only a few scratches and bruises, so he was supervising the construction of fortifications around the passage in the magical barrier. It would take at least a week for Serra to replenish her power reserves and close the arch she had created.
As he approached his tent, Hadjar looked up at the high cliffs.
He’d already gotten used to the heavy, gray blanket that covered the endless vault of heaven. He was used to the wind and the blizzards that would only occasionally let up. Now, as he looked at the blue sky and the buds appearing on the trees in the forest, he knew that winter was over. Unfortunately, the reprieve they’d won was over as well.
The delay in their war against the sect, which should’ve given them the opportunity to strengthen their position, had ended in a pyrrhic victory.
Hadjar entered his tent. Azrea, in her normal, tiny form, was sleeping on the table. She was a white, fluffy kitten with a beautiful pattern of black stripes. And yet, she had probably saved Hadjar's life during the battle by turning into a mighty tigress.
He stroked her as calmly and carelessly as before. The memory of the tigress she’d become didn’t frighten or deter him at all.
“So, you’re keeping secrets from me?” Hadjar asked, knowing that even cannon fire wouldn't be able to wake up the sleeping kitten. “You little minx. I hope someday you'll show me all of your abilities.”
He was about to lie down and sleep for a while when he caught her scent. Winter, waves, and wolves.
“She has no secrets,” Nehen said as she entered his tent.
They embraced, briefly pressing their foreheads together. It was strange, but Hadjar always felt a little calmer after one of these hugs.
Nehen, according to the soldiers’ reports, had actively protected the pavilion. She’d used her unique abilities with devastating efficiency, pitting animals against each other and forcing them to attack each other instead of the defenders.
Some would’ve called that dishonorable.
Hadjar didn't care about what some people thought.
“Check your chest, brave General,” Nehen whispered hotly.
Listening to her whisper, Hadjar felt odd. The appearance of the winter queen and the flames of the islanders hidden deep inside her soul combined in this witch to amazing effect.
“Which one?” The General looked around his tent. “I have plenty of them.”
“Open the one you want to open the least.”
After some thought, the General turned toward his bed incredulously and pulled out a small chest from beneath it. He deactivated Serra’s protective spell (luckily, she’d taught him how to do this) and looked inside. Where the Ancient Tigress' core had once lain on a velvet cushion, there was now nothing but a handful of multicolored powder.
“What is this?”
“She used her mother's strength,” Nehen knelt beside him. She ran her fingers over the shimmering dust. “She borrowed this power to help you, glorious General.”
Hadjar looked at little Azrea again.
So, she can’t grow and wasn't keeping any secrets from me... this tiny kitten sacrificed her only memory of her mother to save the life of a simple biped.
“They say dogs and wolves are the most loyal creatures in this world, General,” Nehen's smile looked charming and a little frightening in the dim lamplight. “But that’s not true. It’s easy to earn a dog’s loyalty and it will stay loyal until the end of its days. But a cat’s loyalty… You have to earn again and again… every day. However, if a person succeeds, there is no more faithful a friend than a cat. And no matter what size it is and what kind of organ is under its tail—it will protect you as fiercely as it would its own kin.”
This was probably the most he’d ever heard her say in one go. They rarely saw each other during the day, and at night, Hadjar and Nehen were often too busy letting out uncontrolled moans rather than exchanging any meaningful words.
The General put the chest back, deciding that he would deal with this later.
He went over to Azrea and stroked her smooth fur again. Perhaps he had more than two friends in this world.
“General!” The chief of intelligence barged into his tent.
Usually calm and pale, he looked sweaty and was very flushed; his green eyes burned with a bright flame.
“I have an urgent report, my General.”
“Go ahead,” Hadjar nodded.
“The sect... it...” the spymaster paused to catch his breath, and Hadjar was already preparing for the worst news imaginable. “All the pavilions have been abandoned, my General. They’ve concentrated their forces in the first pavilion—behind the Snake Gates.”
Hadjar blinked a couple of times, trying to understand the news.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” a bit of resentment at being doubted could be heard in the scout’s voice. “My men, as you’ve ordered, followed all their movements. When the invasion began, the beasts simply swept away everything from the second to the fourth pavilion. They had been abandoned long before our visit to the Chief.”
Hadjar sat down in his General's chair and pondered. He looked into the distance absently, stroking a purring Azrea and thinking.
That explained why the sect hadn’t punished the villagers and hadn’t tried to kill the General during the festival (a renegade assassin didn’t count). But, most importantly, it all made sense.
Hadjar presumed that the sect had learned about the invasion of the beasts around the same time as Nehen had. If the Patriarch had any sense at all, he wouldn't want to scatter his forces across six, or rather, five fronts. He would gather them all in one place, instead.
Perhaps he would arrange for a tournament within the sect to s
ave the strongest of his subordinates. That was why the sixth pavilion had been so poorly defended.
After all the best disciples were safe, then they could evacuate the less valuable ones.
It was a good move. Very practical, but it hadn’t taken into account the possibility of the Moon Army surviving the beasts’ invasion.
And they had…
“Convene the War Council,” Hadjar ordered. “We’ll be fighting our last battle in this strange land soon enough.”
Chapter 159
The War Council gathered in the General's tent half an hour later, and the healer from the Bear squad was invited as well. He, currently, held the position of Chief Healer of the army. Serra, though reluctantly, also attended this meeting.
No one knew whether this reluctance was due to the presence of Nehen or the fact that Serra was once again getting involved in the affairs of foreign countries.
Nehen, the witch from the Isles, was sitting next to Hadjar. The officers looked at her with some reproach, as the adjutant traditionally sat on the General’s right side. Alas, after the incident with Colin Larvie, Hadjar had refused to promote someone to that position.
Besides, everyone was aware of the witch’s power.
“My General,” the spymaster stood up. “May I?”
Hadjar nodded and the leader of the scouts began his report. Hadjar, since he’d already heard it, examined his commanding officers instead. Apart from Nero, everybody looked as injured as their General. Even the plump Simon, who was normally afraid to pick up a simple knife, had a bandaged right cheek and was very proud of it. Taking into account the three big, bloody cuts he had there, the best purchasing officer of the army (Hadjar hated the fact that the title belonged to someone as deceitful and cunning as Simon) would soon be flaunting rather horrible scars that looked like they’d be long enough to stretch from his nose to his cheekbones.
Hadjar didn’t even know how he’d managed to get grabbed by a beast.
“The mountains are abandoned all the way up to Black Peak,” Helion muttered after listening to the spymaster's report.
Dragon Heart: Iron Will. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 2 Page 43
