City Of Sin

121-130

Turning Around

Richard was sitting under the shade of a stone cliff in a withered stone forest, recuperating with his eyes closed. His mana was being restored bit by bit, but right now he was only half full. As for the other two mages, both Tiramisu and Zendrall were only at a third of capacity. Even more worrisome was that Flowsand was only left with a third of her own power. Half of her scrolls had been used up, leaving her with less than thirty on hand. Many of those were still blank, yet to be scribed.

Even the desert warriors who were normally known for their endurance and stamina had started to show signs of fatigue. Many of them had fallen to the ground, entering deep sleep. Quite a few of the barbarians were wounded as well, but Flowsand didn’t have the energy to care about flesh wounds. Only fifteen of the half-orc warriors were left standing.

All but nine of Richard’s wind wolves had perished. These spawns of the broodmother were ten times as important as any other level 7 underling; their link to his mind was the sole reason Richard could control several hundred people like his own arms.

At this point, the capabilities of the troops had entered an all time low. Richard had ordered all of his party to burst forth with full strength in the most recent battle, resulting in a swift decimation of the opposing forces that left more than a hundred of the five hundred bandits dead. The opponents hadn’t been able to mount a good defense, eventually dispersing in confusion.

This was an outcome that Richard had chosen. After the long tug of war, he could roughly predict where the familiar groups would be stationed. He sent his wind wolves out to determine their position, decisively pulling his entire army east and pouncing on the bandits who were only supposed to fight them two rounds later.

Given Red Cossack’s encirclement, it was extremely risky to take the initiative to attack you. Another group of well-prepared forces was always nearby, getting ready for the next ambush. If the blitzkrieg was met with a stalemate, Richard would have been pincered from two ends.

Fortunately, the battle had developed in his favour. His contracted party had fought without reservation, achieving far greater results than expected. The rest of his men abandoned all other pursuits, focusing on changing their direction. Even though this had left them at their weakest point, Richard was sure the enemies weren’t much better off.

He opened his eyes, silently estimating the time that had passed as he stood up with the support of the rock behind him. His entire body was stiff, the six unhealed wounds on his back and shoulders still aching dully. One wouldn’t even know the original colour of his robe anymore; it had hardened up like leather and grown red. Sweat and blood had blended with the characteristic red soil of the Bloodstained Lands, soil that had acquired its colour as blood constantly seeped into the ground and dried up.

Richard’s mouth was filled with an unpleasant taste. He spat out two clumps of sand, the horse blood still churning in his gut making him feel like he was burning up from within. He felt the constant urge to clear his stomach of its contents.

He chose to ignore that need, combing his hair as he inhaled deeply. The vitality rune was slowly replenishing his strength and mana, allowing him to force his eyes open and flash a refreshed grin. He then made his way to the soldiers who were sprawled on the ground everywhere, barking loudly, “All of you, wake up! Get ready for battle! Let’s show those bastards who are chasing us what we’re made of!”

Hearing his loud call, many of the soldiers immediately got up and grabbed their weapons, preparing for war. The continuous battles had elevated his status in their hearts, making him a divine existence. They instinctively followed his every command.