City Of Sin

11-20

Battle

Thinking over things for a moment, Richard continued, “If the army coming for us is as we expect, we have a chance at success. Our first job is to ambush them once they enter the mountains, killing all their priests in one go before retreating to the base. We can then make use of the natural defence, slowly whittling down their numbers, bleeding them out until they can’t handle the losses anymore and have to retreat. Normally a commander here pulls back their troops once a third of the army is destroyed, unless they have a special mission or fixed target. We should be able to hold on until then. The ordinary soldiers are fine, but our primary targets should be their knights and novices. Attack from the walls and kill them instantly!”

Flowsand spoke up, “I should remind you about the broodmother.”

“The broodmother? It’s still a larva…” Richard found her line of thought strange.

“Perhaps so, but it still has offensive abilities. You remember what it said when it told you it could forage for food itself.”

Richard furrowed his brows, put deep into thought. His mind connected with the broodmother the moment he thought of it, sensing that it had already captured some prey deep inside the forest and was halted there. It was eating, radiating satisfaction through their link.

‘Return to the base early tomorrow,’ Richard ordered, and the broodmother replied with an affirmative.

……

Night fell slowly in this unfamiliar land. The sky was an inky, near-black blue, with only one moon that emitted pale light that was practically drowned out by the resplendent stars that filled the skies. There were far more here that could be seen with the naked eye than on Norland, so crowded that they made the night sky look like the skirt of a lady, adorned with pearls.

The little town of Osfa would normally be in the world of dreams at this time, but there was a large clamour throughout the place. Teams of fully armed soldiers were stood guard right outside, with only the knights able to sleep comfortably on beds within. Their squires were in the town as well, taking over the residents’ homes.

None of the residents of the town were asleep, instead busy preparing supper for the soldiers and aristocrats who’d come from afar. The town had a total population of merely 300, and with about the same number of soldiers suddenly having joined with ten or so powerful people that even the mayor had to bow his head to, the place was naturally in chaos. Forget the knights themselves, even the squires could do as they wished in the town.

The mayor was now stood inside his own small yet intricate dining hall, respectfully facing a few aristocrats who were comfortably bent over their food.

Sat in the middle was a middle-aged man with a thick moustache and bear-like stature, seemingly about forty years of age. He had a vicious scar on his neck, his high-collared linen shirt leaving it exposed. The scar was incredibly eye-catching, like a fleshy red mollusk just resting on his neck.

The knight swallowed a piece of searing hot beef, raising his head to look at the mayor, “Is there still no word from Sir Kojo?”

“No, Esteemed Sir Menta.”

“He might just have met with some trouble. It looks like we’ll have to be more cautious,” Menta said.