indianbanksassociation Chapter 615: They were smiling.
Chapter 615: They were smiling.
RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE
The ground shook and every person inside the Wall realised it—
They were here.
Korvath ran out of the command post.
"Enemy in sight!"
A scout shouted. Korvath climbed the nearest ladder rung and looked. There, he saw them. They weren’t close yet, still far enough that they looked like crawling dark lines over white land.
But...
There were too many lines.
Way too many.
All his life, Korvath had watched enemies march towards their walls, the Stonefangs, the Frostveins, the Ironbloods, different tribes attacked them at different points in time but...
Never once in his life had he faced an army this large.
All this while, the maximum number of warriors he had fought was about three hundred but today?
More than seven hundred enemies marched towards him, more than twice what he was used to and as Korvath saw it...
He couldn’t help but feel... overwhelmed.
That feeling, however, quickly disappeared as Korvath’s cold, calculative self took over. The number of enemies didn’t matter.
It was time to act.
"Positions!"
He commanded.
All units moved.
Archers, throwers, sling crews and... the Shardpeak rigs.
The Shardpeak rigs, this was their solution, nets with weighted hooks attached to rope bundles, anchored into stone by metal pins.
The idea behind it was simple.
If a flying beast came low, you snag it, drag it, and make it crash.
The remaining members would then charge forward, killing the beast and the rider.
This would keep the enemy movement restricted and in a sky battle, where movement was the biggest advantage one had, taking away a part of that movement and restricting it even in the smallest of ways was more than enough to make a mess of things.
And that wasn’t it.
While the Shardpeak rigs worked against the sky enemies, below the Wall, on the ground outside, the trap field waited.
In the past six hours, they had dug pits covered with thin snow skins, spike trenches, rock-drop shelves built into the cliff edges, and "false open lanes" that looked safe but funnelled attackers into kill zones.
Yes, they had made ample preparations.
This was Lavinia’s partial solution.
Overpreparation.
The people inside the Walls knew that the enemy was coming, however, the mistrust was still there. Dawn of the Dragon didn’t have enough influence to bridge that mistrust either—
So Lavinia used fear.
With Vandra and other members of the Dawn of the Dragon taking the lead, she made other members of different tribes move together purposefully, she made them set different traps tirelessly, all while having a solemn look on her face, constantly commanding other units in front of other units.
The woman who had always remained calm was suddenly passing down orders without stopping, constantly making people move for six hours straight—
That alone was more than enough for the people to realise how serious the situation was and...
Fear built up.
In most cases, fear was counterproductive, it often made men freeze, unable to move to their fullest potential—
But this time—
In some cases, it was the opposite.
In some cases, fear made them do things they could have never done otherwise, one of which was moving together with the tribesmen they considered their enemies, without any problems whatsoever.
How could they not?
They needed to win.
They were the last line of defence, if they fell, their families would be next, and they couldn’t let it happen. They would protect them, no matter what they had to do—
Even if it meant trusting the same people they considered enemies just a few days ago.
And with that—
With all their efforts and Lavinia’s constant commands, now, the Alliance Army stood together.
The enemy marched closer.
A wedge of enemy flying beasts came out of the clouds. They flew low at first, then rose sharply, aiming to come over the Wall where the archers couldn’t easily angle.
"Air Units—launch!"
Korvath commanded.
"YEAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!"
"KRRIIIIIIEEEEKKKKKKK!!"
The Air Units moved, snow blew up behind them and the air battle above the Wall began in an instant.
Two sides collided with each other in the middle of dark, heavy clouds, faint glints of metal shining as the sounds of metal clashing against metal and beasts screeching filled the sky.
Korvath watched it for a very small moment, then, he forced himself to look down and...
He couldn’t help but notice it.
Kael was right.
The enemy beasts... they weren’t right.
Now, Korvath knew about corruption because of the records the Velmourn Ancestors left, but he had never seen it himself, so he did not know what it looked like.
What he did know, however, was what healthy beasts looked like and...
The beasts in front of him... those weren’t healthy.
Their movements were too strange, they were moving too hard, as if they were being forced to push their limits at the expense of their own bodies.
Something was definitely wrong.
’Is that corruption?’
He wondered in his head.
The features didn’t exactly match what Kael, Lavinia or Aurelia told him. There was no significant change in the beasts’ physical appearance.
Not that it mattered, not right now at least—
"Archers!"
Korvath lifted his hand as he looked, waiting for the first enemy line to hit the trap field, until the first foot sank into a false-snow pit and then—
"Loose!"
He commanded and the instant he did—
Whoosh Whoosh Whoosh
Arrows poured down like black rain, and just after that, heavy sling stones followed, breaking bones and cracking the helmets of the enemies who had already fallen into a straight trap.
The first enemy line staggered, but this was only the beginning. More came behind them, stepping over their comrades’ bodies like the bodies were just snow.
Korvath blinked at that.
Why would they...?
He didn’t understand.
Why would they ride over their own allies?
Had they... lost their minds?
He frowned in confusion. He looked at their faces, trying to understand what was happening. Had they lost control over their beasts, or were they forced to do it because of the orders given from behind but—
What he saw made him freeze for a moment.
Smiles.
These people who had just stampeded over their own allies—
They were smiling.