The warm sunlight engulfed the Hetto Plains in an imaginary cloak; in the serenity, the vast piece of greenery was just like a giant's carpet, its lines demonstrating the roads and paths which had been there for ages, its color showcasing the liveliness and energy.
At this moment, two mirages formed from the white clouds appeared in the sky, looking just like two balls of mist rising from the blue lake. They sat atop a huge tent as if they were about to pull the tents off the ground.
From the fields, mountains and hills, serene villages and the bustling cities, the Imperial Guards were drawn to the vast opening by youth and the evilest feeling in the world. They lined up into rows, formed into teams, gathered into groups, donned in their complete armor and looked peaceful. The goddess of youth and Hades of the hell stood at the two sides of the plains respectively; the goddess prayed for their blessings while Hades commanded his pawns as usual, as if he were calculating how many souls his palace could obtain.
The clouds above the Guards kept on transforming along with the quiet illumination of sunlight. Looking from afar, the horizon beneath the people's footsteps and breaths vibrated vigorously, as if the morning dews were evaporating maniacally. Suddenly! The tide seemed struggled against the boundaries of the horizon. Light and mist vanished into thin air, and the scenery turned crystal clear. Amidst the flourishing bushes, a massive army formation appeared. The formation seemed to be splitting, but at the same time it looked as if it was being gathered as well. Long guns formed forests, the cavalry troops transformed into active streams, and the sunlight reflected from the shields and armor appeared like waves of metal. Everything seemed to be moving, but upon closer inspection, everything seemed absolutely still and silent.
One thousand warriors of the Third Group, Third Division, Nineteenth Cavalry Corp of the Sixth Column were being assigned to the frontlines of the left wing. The superior of the knights, Major Karlchette Divoli, who had named 49.7 the Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl, was riding a greenish grey hybrid horse. He did not know if the bloodline of this animal was as royal as the people had said it to be, he only knew that the little fellow had thrown tantrums often.
The Major lowered his head and looked. A red sakura flower had been sewn onto his armor by his wife. The huge and appealing sakura embroidery from between his chest plates and arms all the way to the saddle. All of a sudden, an image appeared before him. His wife was sitting beside the stove of a small house with fire-red threads in her hands. Just like fresh blood, the color was very attention-garnering.
Karlchette quickly turned his head away, he did not dare to continue his line of thought.
"Hey! Are you hot?" the Major poked a knight beside him with his elbow, who was wearing a helmet several-kilograms-heavy. While his voice echoed within the boundaries of the helmet, his words were incomprehensible to the outside world. Karlchette waved his arm in defeat. The contest had yet to begin, but he was already slightly exhausted.
The young Major spared a final glance at the knight to his left. He was rather familiar with the troop of soldiers at the frontlines. There was his offensive advisor, his flag-bearer, assistant general and many other youngsters whose faces were unrecognizable. Karlchette did not care much for others. In his eyes, he could only see the Golden Lion Flag which represented his country and everything he had worked so hard for. He tied the flag-bearer's left arm together with the flag with a red rope. So, nobody could snatch the flag, at the very least … it looked a little more assuring.
The group comprised of numerous spearmen were in the center of the formation. Corporal Karlchette, the tall Commander of Spearmen, looked to his left and right. To his dismay, falling right behind him were the soldiers clad in metal armor, and it was rather difficult for them to see into the distance. The scorching sun transformed the troop of spearmen into a glimmering forest, and the reflection at the tip of the guns switched into different shades of mirrors along with the changing sunlight. Tears flowed from Corporal Karlchette's eyes, not because he was touched, but by the pain inflicted by the striking reflections of metal.
"So unlucky!" the spearman Corporal cursed.
A fellow soldier looked at him with amusement, "Big brother, what's the progress of your task?"
Karlchette regained concentration again, and swang the gun in his hand, "Things are going well … it's just fine as usual!"
The soldier said no more, while Karlchette did not spit nonsense like how he would always do. He focused his concentration to the right wing of the formation, and deafening cheers had already sounded from that direction.
Each and every soldier directed their line of sight to the direction. Very soon, they saw an old Marshal with grey hair clad in grey armor on a big white horse, who arrived at the battlefield with lightning speed.
Corporal Karlchette gripped his long gun and extended his neck just like how all the other spearmen did.
"The Marshal is coming … the Marshal is coming!" the spearmen were all waiting, so was Karlchette. Booming cheers and the clanking sounds of swords and shields could be heard from the right side of the formation.
Karlchette said to the soldiers near him in a low voice, "We must not fall behind them, understand?"
The old Marshal with silver hair and armor sped past the troop of spearmen! Instantly, the hundreds of thousands of warriors lifted their guns, and the combination of sunlight and the reflection at the gun tip struck once again. With all his might, Karlchette vibrated the weapon in his hand with the greatest speed he could muster, resulting in waves of shining light illuminating from his weapon! Then, he cleared his throat to shout at the Marshal who had went past them.
"All hail the Marshal … all hail the Marshal!"
The old Marshal smiled. The spearmen could see that the grin of his implied that the Supreme Commander appreciated the spirits of the spearmen of the Guards. The soldiers then shouted even louder, until a raspy low voice sounded in the air.
The Marshal said, "All hail Mother Titan!"
Then, the spearmen injected more passion into their current performance.
"All hail Titan… all hail Titan!"
Karlchette seemed to have broken his voice He opened his mouth wide, and fell into the same pattern with his fellow soldiers with his thick accent. He might have realized that the vibrations of his gun had slowed down, so he started to stomp his feet. As a result, the tip of his gun radiated with blinding light again.
The huge white horse carried the Commander of the Guards from the right wing of the formation all the way to the center of the left wing. It was only after ten minutes, had the old Marshal finished inspecting his troops. Sergeant Karlchette, whom his colleagues from the Military Intelligence Bureau called "Robin", retracted his salute only after the old Marshal had returned to his original position.
The Sergeant slightly shook his shoulders, which had been a bit numb after sustaining the salute for an extended duration. Karlchette stared at the vast opening before him in envy. From his perspective, the Hetto Plains transformed into a lively lake, and the breaths of hundreds of thousands of people gathered into a lingering ball of mist on the plains. The ball of mist constantly switched between high and low, fast and slow. Just like a massive helmet, it sat above the heads of the warriors.
"Is there water in the jar?" Robin suddenly turned his head.
Karlchette's registrar shook his head. It seemed as if he had encountered ghosts when surveying the jar.
Disinterested, Robin stomped back to his old hut. There was a chair made of cane in the hut, and the fine wine was no longer there. Karlchette had finished the wine in his efforts to worship the God of Light with the traditional methods, but the God had not responded at all.
"I must get a better wine next time!" the Corporal mumbled to himself. Then, he grabbed onto the young correspondent as if he had just thought of something, "Hey, what do you think of Borodino Village's oat wine?"
The little correspondent nodded his head hard, "Not bad, not bad! It's a popular fine wine!"
Karlchette leaped onto the old cane chair. He felt a little guilty and had thought that he was to be blamed for the lack of rain. He felt that he had committed some sort of crime, leaving him with overwhelming guilt regarding this incident. He could neither breathe nor eat. He could not even sit still for a while.
Again, Robin barged out of his observation post. He was well aware that the old hut behind him no longer bore any meaning. He wished to invade into some random base camp in the lands beyond and murder a few Western bastards. By doing so, he could at least have some momentary peace in his soul.
There were clouds above the battlefield, but not much. A grey crane appeared from the cluster of clouds. It just wanted to find a spot to rest, but realized that the humans beneath the dome had no intentions of leaving any space for it to tidy up its feathers. The grey crane was not satisfied. It let out a cry, and headed back into the refreshing air current.
Flying past the plains and the shimmering river surface, the grey crane flapped its wings against the still Shawob River. Subtle ripples appeared in the waters, but vanished soon enough. However, the grey crane was fond of this feeling. It found a silent corner on the river bank, and bent its body downward elegantly as usual.
The grey crane stuck its long beak into the river, and then started to tidy up its feathers. Its feathers were the foundations of its capability of flight, and it was proud of them. At the same time, it was also troubled by its feathers, as there would always be people who had ill intentions toward them.
"Big fellow? Have you stared enough?" the grey crane finally lost its patience. It turned its head backward with slight fury, and glared at the beast behind it with round, black eyes.
"Sorry! I'm just passing by the area …" Little Karlchette came near the riverside in low spirits. It bent its neck, and sipped a mouthful of lukewarm river water.
The grey crane could sense the friendliness in each and every word and action of the bigger animal. It did not mind having a casual conversation with the lonely passer-by to kill time.
-------------------
"With that being said … I'm so sorry! I've initially thought that you planned to bite me. These feathers of mine can be made into a basket of feather pens, I was worried that you were having something in your mind."
Little Karlchette let out a puff, "I'm a soldier, I'll never do anything like that!"
"You're a soldier?" the grey crane's eyes widened in disbelief.
Little Karlchette wagged its butt, as if it was trying to show off its mark of the Abedoly Military Stable.
"Well then … dear soldier, what brings you here?"
Little Karlchette turned its head away in shame, "I've lost my way …"
The mean and sarcastic grey crane showed a mocking expression, "Then you're no soldier. A soldier won't get lost, and only a lost stray horse would look as pathetic as you."
Little Karlchette's eyes widened, "But I'm really a soldier!"
"No! You're not!" the grey crane stretched its long neck. It seemed to be sizing up the frowning Little Karlchette with its despicable facial expression.
Little Karlchette was losing its patience. To be arguing with a grey crane which was infamous for its constant rambling, what else did it mean other than it was too free? Furthermore, Little Karlchette was so starved to the point that it was seeing stars.
"Get away from me, will you?"
The grey crane shrugged nonchalantly, "To be frank, I plan to do so!"
The grey crane had won. It wagged to the other side arrogantly, and continued tidying up its feathers. Let the huge foolish horse continue to reflect on itself here! A lost soldier? The grey crane had never heard of such a thing!
Little Karlchette surveyed its surroundings and came to a conclusion that it had never visited the place. Its butt was screaming in pain, and its hooves were hurt by the constant friction. Its master … Little Karlchette felt wronged whenever it thought of its master who had stabbed it, how could he do so?
Tears flowed from the horse's eyes. It admitted that it was bad in recognizing directions, and it also accepted the fact that it had been blinded by its wrath that it had been stabbed in the butt. Nevertheless, it was an excellent breed of horse from the Abedoly Military Stable.
It should not have been in such circumstances. Moreover … how was his master doing right now? Although it had been stabbed, Little Karlchette was still worried about its master's situation.
"Hey! Big guy! If I were you, I'd fly to the sky to have a look!" it was hard to come by a sympathetic grey crane.
Little Karlchette was stunned momentarily. It looked at the grey crane's feathers, and looked at its huge butt. After some time, it recovered from the stun and said, "Enough, I'm sick of being unlucky. Please leave me alone."
The grey crane waddled over, and pointed at the river bank opposite them with its wing.
"My friend, for the sake of the God of Light, I must give you some guidance! Walk along the river bank, and you'll come to a place with humans. As long as there are humans, there'll be hope. You're not like me, so I bet those farmers will definitely welcome you."
Little Karlchette's eyes widened in disbelief, "Really?"
The grey crane flapped its wings, and leapt into the air, "It's true, my friend! Good luck to you!"
Little Karlchette immediately recovered its senses, and went on its way. It seemed to be saying along the lines of :
"Thank you! You've been such a great help!"
However, Little Karlchette did not understand the grey crane's words well. It ran along the river bank, and came to a crossroad soon after.
Although it had known that its master had hidden something on its body, it was not as intelligent as it appeared. The horse which was simply running around aimlessly traversed along the road away from the river. When realization had dawned on it that it had lost its way again, it could only pray. It could only wish that it could meet an old horse which knew the way the next time it stopped, or if there were no other options … a mule would do the trick too! At the very least, there would not be any problems in their communication.
"It seems that … it's true that some people simply don't understand the language of others!" the Hoilland King, Luth VII, sat in the huge military tent, and mocked the Faran Intelligence Officer, who was standing at the side in courtesy, with his usual high and mighty demeanor.
The king clenched the document in his hands. Amused, he sized up Colonel Karlchette, who had a pointy mouth and sunken cheeks, "Hey … regardless of the details of the report a monkey like you sent, please do open the tent and look outside!"
The Faran Intelligence Officer followed suit and opened the tent.
"What do you see?"
Colonel Karlchette could only respond, "Reporting, your Majesty, I see the Titan Guards' Offensive Army Group One, which had been on standby to launch their attacks!"
"Offensive Army Group One? Offensive Army Group One?" Luth VII turned his head away with slight annoyance, "Are you saying that … you still firmly believe that the Titan Guards' Offensive Army Group Two is just nearby?"
Colonel Karlchette nodded in affirmation. He looked at the high-ranking officers in the tent who seemed to be reluctant to comment on the matter. Nevertheless, Karlchette understood that the smart bunch had the same concerns as he.
"Your Majesty, although the Major of the Titan's Military Intelligence Bureau did not reveal any valuable information, I believe that his mere appearance at the location near the harbor already implies that … Offensive Army Group Two, which is led by Marshal O'Neil is currently executing their tasks. On the other hand, we will be split into two groups by the river, and will be completely cornered in the end!"
The Hoilland King used his golden cane to knock on a specific location on the map, "These are this morning's reports, the Marshal of the Guards, Prince O'Neil's Offensive Army Group Two is still in some province 140 kilometers away from the battlefield! Do you think that the Titans are all marathon champions? Is it possible for them to travel 140 kilometers in just four hours?" Colonel Karlchette subconsciously squinted his scheming grey eyes, "Your Majesty, it is indeed unfeasible for the infantry troops, but if the cavalries are to give their all … it might be possible!"
The Hoilland King pointed at the battlefield outside the door, "What do you want me to do then? Greet Alan, and flee after asking him to have the battle another day?"
"Your Majesty, this is the best course of action!"
"Get out!" Luth VII slumped into the chair angrily. If the person in front of him was not a part of the Faran camp, he would have stuffed the bastard into the spittoon long ago.
Colonel Karlchette walked out of the huge tent without looking back. The scene immediately quieted down. The officers of the alliance had all stopped their whisperings and secretly sized up the king who sat with a dignified appearance. Then, they directed their complicated gaze toward the battlefield outside. The Titans had already assembled themselves into neat rows, and the Northern horizon was brimming with an intense murderous atmosphere.
"Alright! We can finally concentrate on dealing with Alan!" Luth VII suddenly applauded, attracting everyone's attention.
"I now announce that …" the king stood up from his golden seat which was decorated with jewelry.
"The competition begins!"
It was Church's year 800, fifteenth day of the seventh month. The time was thirteen minutes to ten. The largest scaled military competition in all of the Westland's history was about to commence. Opening up the historical readings of "History of Titan's Defending War", every single detail of the events transpired on the fifteenth day had been described in great detail. However, the only limitation was that the people had read only read about Alan Marshal's words and actions most of the time. As for the other lives on the battlefield, the people had no concrete idea of them. Thus, the people were incapable of understanding their emotions and the impending occurrences.
It was nine o'clock and fifty-six minutes. The messenger's flag language was late! Had it been late for one minute? Or two? Colonel Karlchette Divoli who had been standing at the position of 619.33 was not clear at all. With the short span of waiting time, he had come up with a poem internally.
Oh beautiful …, I am waiting for you. Your embrace..."Guards, advance!"
Upon hearing the familiar shout, Major Karlchette regained his attention and turned toward his fellow warriors. ….
He said to the warriors, "For Mother Titan!"
The knights responded in return, "All hail the country!"
"All hail the country!" the shouts sounded simultaneously across the entire four to five miles of Titan's frontlines, and the flag stood proudly on the observatory tower. According to the military arrangements, a cavalry corps and two infantry corps belonging to the left wing's sixth column were the first to launch their attacks onto the enemies before them.
The horses trampled the ground. Along with the movements of the horses, the knights bounced up and down and traversed away from the land. As a result of the whippings, the horses started to moan. They stretched all four of their limbs and the muscles on their bodies. Instantly, the land had begun to fly backward at top speed, and the sceneries in their scope of vision had turned blurry.
"Charge, Charge!" Colonel Karlchette followed his flag-bearer closely. Under the illumination of the sunlight, the golden lion seemed as if it would leap out from the flag anytime, and then devour the humans.
Just like his combat horse, the Colonel was spitting saliva. The combat horses carried the knights into their offensive state at the highest speed they could muster, and were getting closer to Karlchette's Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl! The young Major of the Guards tightened his grip on the whip, and his combat horse immediately raised its front hoofs and jumped forward! He had now landed onto the slope of the highland, and could even hear the Fire-Eyed Girl's series of laughter which sounded like the ringing of bells. Moreover, he even saw the Fire-Eyed Girl's skin emitting the fragrance of flora.
Karlchette used the back of his sword to knock on his horse. The slope at the Northern area of the highland was slightly more slanted than that at the Southern part. This brought some difficulties to the cavalry troop at the peak. Nevertheless, it had done nothing to interfere with the Guard's will to conquer. The knights on the highland transformed into a compact formation as if a carpet was being rolled out non-stop toward the highland.
"What's that?" Karlchette stared at the highland before him questioningly. He noticed an unfamiliar flag rising slowly on the highland. Across the sky, the back-formation of the Titan's Guards had already shot a rain of arrows toward the Southern part of the highland. Along with the continuous rising of the flag, Karlchette finally saw the knight bearing the flag. Although he had almost bumped into his opponent just like that, he had managed to draw his sword in time. The opponent's neck came into contact with the sword, and the knight slumped onto the ground together with his military flag.
Karlchette's 619.33 had finally reached the peak. However, they were met with countless enemies. The fall of the flag-bearer had been nothing more than the beginning of the competition. Time seemed to have frozen for half a second just when the Major of the Guard pulled his horse to a stop. The very next instant, the two parties rushed toward each other and were entangled like an intimate couple.
The clashing sounds of weaponry, the horrifying screams of horses and humans, the various ear-piercing shouts, and the flying dust and stones; whatever could be seen were only scenes of people slaughtering each other, and whatever sounds which were heard signified destruction! The geography of the highland had restricted the speed of the parties' clash, and the people could only fight within limited space. On the other hand, most of the knights were all on standby on the left side of the highland, waiting to fill up the vacant positions of their comrades.
The exchanges of the arrows and guns had flown past the peak of the highland and landed on the base camps of both sides. Blood splattered, and human bodies rose and fell like the sea. Some of the knights who had long lost their lives were being squeezed in between the horses and their comrades. Their faces were overcome with blankness, which was a stark difference with the atmosphere of the battle.
Surprisingly, the petite body of Karlchette had not been trampled over by the people in the first wave of the onslaught. Instead, he was still flinging his bloodied sword forward. The Major of the Guards was stuck together with his knights, and could not see his opponents clearly. He only knew that he needed to defend himself from the chaotic weapons.
"Karlchette! Karlchette!"
Much energy had been exhausted for Karlchette to change directions and detach its horse from the ranks of the formation. He looked at the group behind him, and confirmed that the voice came from his Corp Commander.
"Where's your flag? Where's your flag?"
Karlchette surveyed his surroundings in alarm. Where was his flag? The young Major did not pay any attention to the curses and shouts of the Corp Commander. He raced back and forth on the highlands and reminded every soldier who seemed unoccupied to look out for their flag.
Finally, a sharp old soldier had located the flag-bearer who was surrounded by many comrades. He rushed forward immediately only to find that all that was left of the flag-bearer was a bloody broken arm. The old soldier was anxious. He used the hilt of his sword to separate the flag-bearer from the bunch of people, and found the blurry Golden Lion Flag somewhere near the flag-bearer.
The broken limb was tied firmly to the Golden Lion flagpole. The old soldier turned stern immediately. He had not even hesitated for a split second before tearing the flag off the limb and attaching it to his left arm.
"Hya! Hya!" the old soldier rushed toward his Regimental Commander. The petite Karlchette seemed shy and extremely delighted at the same time.
"Guards … go forth! Charge!" the Colonel shouted, and repeated the slogans of "For Mother Titan" and "All hail the empire" at least once. Reality had proved that this trick was indeed very effective!
The group of knights of the Guards which had gathered at the highland began to move. They knocked with their horses' chests, and used their swords and lances to tackle any opening they could get!
When Karlchette and his newly-appointed flag-bearer had joined the frontlines again, the enemies' cavalries were gradually retreating toward the lower terrains of the highland.
"Reporting, Marshal! 619.33 has successfully landed!"
The Commander of the Guards on the tall observatory tower quickly adjusted the direction of the lens of the single-lens telescope. Then, the bloodied and dusty Golden Lion Flag waving proudly on the peak of the narrow highland. "Excellent! We've won the first bout! Now get all of them to retreat!"
"What?" the messengers and observatory officers on the battlefield widened their eyes in unison.
Silver Fox Alan moved his telescope away from the central highland of the battlefield's left wing. He only said softly, "Relay the command … I just hope that it can still make it on time!"
It might be responding to the words of the Commander of the Guards, that the flag had suddenly exploded into a ball of flame. Under the witnesses of the hundreds of thousands of warriors, the fire had burnt the flag and its surrounding knights into ashes! The very next instant, rounds and rounds of explosions had torn apart the burning air above the battlefield. Along with the vigorous air currents, the ammunition had landed near the frontlines at the peak of the highland.
The bugle signaling retreat sounded plain and helpless. After Karlchette had successfully escaped from the right side of the highland away from the scope of the cannon's firing, he had recovered from the tinnitus which had caused a splitting headache. He could never forget the scene. All of a sudden, it was as if a blank hole had appeared in the sky out of nowhere. Next, a bomb shot out from it at high speed. The entire body of his flag-bearer instantly expanded and burst into pieces.
The combat horse of the Guards' Major ran like there was no tomorrow, following closely after its terrified comrades toward the back rows of the formation. It simply had no idea how reluctant its master had felt.
Karlchette panted heavily, and his armor had been bombarded with blood from the cannons. He swore internally that he would definitely visit this highland again.
The Sixth Infantry Corp and Tenth Infantry Corp of the Sixth Column of Titan's left-wing group approached the highland slowly. The explosions on the battlefield were getting louder and more heated, especially near the peak. Fire seemed to be exploding out of thin air, and the battlefield was engulfed in smoke. If one listened quietly, one could even determine the target location and traveling distance of the cannons.
Titans' infantry troops were advancing blindly. They simply did not understand, why were the cavalries, with their great mobility, required to retreat too? Could it possibly be that the infantry troops were going to defend against the cannon fire with their shields instead?
Thank God! The Sixth Infantry Corp had not continued toward the highland. They had stopped a hundred steps away, and assembled themselves into a neat assault formation. The officers from each branch had unveiled the oilcloths on the trailers respectively, revealing several small catapults and approximately a hundred crossbows, each equipped with twelve arrows.
Alan retracted his stare in satisfaction. These crossbows capable of firing twelve iron arrows at once had once been the most treasured war asset of the Guards, and had been stored in the dark warehouses for years.
At this point, the artilleries had already made their appearances on the battlefield. Thus, it would be inappropriate for the outdated but valuable assets to remain concealed.
"Before the left wing is stuck in a tug of war, right wing! Especially the ninth and eleventh columns under the jurisdiction of Military District Seventeen, you must fight off any invaders before it comes to a direct confrontation!"
Alan relayed his commands decisively. However, he had noticed that the right wing had already launched their attacks on the battlefield.
Advancing along the borders of the forest, the right-wing army of Titan walked out of the massive and secluded base camp. This, was the entire infantry manpower of Military District Seventeen. The army groups organized themselves into the shape of the letter "M", and closed upon the battlefield gradually. Opposite the warriors, the right wing of the Anti-Titan Alliance had already fallen into their formations, with the archers in front. On the other hand, the shield-bearers and ax-bearers were positioned near the wooden fence behind the archers. The Titan's army advanced forward one step by another, and the two parties had a clear view of each other only after a quarter of an hour.
Finally, shouts were heard from the right wing of the Anti-Titan Alliance's formation, followed closely by the unified shootings of the archers. Without fear, the Titan warriors stared at the sky, raised their shields above their heads close to each other. Just like a concentrated cluster of clouds, the black rain of arrows flew past the sky with the coarse sounds of "whoosh", and transformed into needle-like downpour upon landing. To some, the rain was a rather enchanting sight. The rain hit on the shields, giving off the crisp sounds of metal clashing against metal. The Titan warriors struggled to advance forward with bent backs. While the downpour of arrows succeeded in ruining their neat formation, it could do nothing to weaken their resolve. Looking at their comrades who were falling to the ground one after another, they also noticed that the enemies' base was getting closer. The archers concealed under the shields waited for the opportunity. Finally, the round of concentrated shootings had paused, and the warriors bearing the shields had moved aside to clear a path. At the same time, Titan's archers had also moved in unison. They fired a round of retaliation by lifting their bow at an equal speed as the first archer.
"Fire at will! Fire at will!"
The enemies' shouts were within earshot of the Titan warriors. The soldiers at the frontlines were thrown off their feet for a moment. Soon enough, their emotions had been replaced with heightened morale and will. A soldier at the first row had suddenly flung his shield to the side, effectively revealing his body. He quickly unsheathed his glimmering sword and pointed the sword tip at the enemies in front.
"Guards …" countless arrows pierced through the soldier who had lost his defenses, and his life had been robbed by the overwhelming pain in his chest and his bloodied body. However, hundreds of thousands of warriors had discarded their shields at the same time, and had completed the brave words of the Battlefield Commander with their firmest, most touching voices!
"Guards, charge… charge! For Mother Titan!"
The enemies' archers manically retreated backward. They pushed against the soldiers behind them, and left their backs revealed to the approaching Guards.
The warriors had no sympathy for their enemies' cowardice. Before the clashes at the frontlines, countless axes and guns had been flung away! Finally, a low, heart-wrenching sound rumbled at the frontlines, and the huge momentum of the two parties had thrown countless soldiers into the air. In the very next instant, guns had pierced through the shields, and right into each other's bodies. The frontlines now seemed like a fine, red line, just like good red silk produced by the far East. The line of silk was being torn apart and distorted by the two strong figures. Nevertheless, it had excellent flexibility and energy. Along with the splattering blood and the mess of human bodies, the fine red silk seemed to flail up and down in the blood red dye cauldron. It had robbed countless lives of the dyes, transforming into a unique charm.
Peeking through the compact ranks of the central army, Silver Fox Alan looked at the faraway primary forces of the allied armies. No matter what, he deeply admired the bravery of the Hoillander Marshal. Lavendi Mulierce had gathered the Faran army which possessed the greatest offensive prowess and the Hoillander artillery troops in the left wing of the battlefield, leaving the right wing with only the timid and cowardly Leblesians. Alan could not say for certain if this was a risk or a bet. However, he knew that the allied army was being put in a rather disadvantageous position on the flat-ground battlefield due to their smaller numbers.
"Alright! Order the central group forth!" Silver Fox turned toward his messenger, "Inform the Commanding Officers of the First and Fourth Column to slow down their attacks. They must wait until the Steinberger Timberwolves had completely torn apart the defenses of the allied armies' right wing to launch any fatal blows!"
General Bencil Donnis the Commanding Officer of Military District Twelve was donned in the plain uniform of a Commissioned Officer, and it was painfully obvious to everyone that he had definitely borrowed the clothes from someone else. To a General who had risen to the rank of Commander, he could not stand all the things that had happened on the battlefield.
Bencil walked out from the corner of the observatory tower, and directly into the Commander's umbrella to shield from the sun.
"Hey! Are you pulling off that trick again?"
Alan turned his head, "What are you trying to say?"
Bencil pointed at the Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl on the battlefield at the left wing, which was smoldering in smoke, "You've been acting like you're going to decide the outcome of the battle with a powerful offense. You've even issued the national flag to the first batch of offensive groups, but the two remaining columns in the left wing are all second-raters. In fact, you don't have the slightest intention to make your move right there, do you?"
Alan shrugged nonchalantly, "Old friend, what you've just said can only be considered as part of the truth, but what does this mean then?"
"It simply means that our left wing will have to withstand attacks of three to four folds of what they'll be facing under normal circumstances. If there's any slip, they'll all be blasted into rotten meat by the enemies' cannons!"
Bencil said while frowning at the national flag, which stood stubbornly among the war formations.
Alan turned his head away, and said coldly, "If I'm as emotional as you, I'm afraid this country is about to disappear!"
General Bencil gripped hard on the fence around the observatory tower. He despised the fact that Silver Fox had the tendency to sacrifice human lives in exchange for a more desirable war outcome.
It was Church's year 800, fifteenth day of the seventh month, eleven o'clock and thirty-six minutes. It had been an hour and a half into the most important land battle of Titan's first war to defend its nation. However, Karlchette had already been looking for his flag on the battlefield for the second time. The young Major of the Guards sized up the national flags which had one of its corners destroyed, and looked at the two broken arms attached to the flagpole. He was hesitating.
One of the arms had been broken at the elbow. The cut was clean and smooth, and it was painfully obvious that the arm had been chopped by an extremely sharp tool; on the other hand, the other broken arm was a messy pile of flesh and blood, giving off a terrifying atmosphere of a burning corpse. These were the horrifying sights caused by the enemies' cannons.
Karlchette was still hesitating, he had already torn a piece of the corner of his sleeve. Just as he was about to tie the flagpole to his palm, his Division Commander hurried over. Karlchette was in a daze as his superior had snatched the flag from him.
"You have more important matters to attend to!" the Supreme Officer chuckled menacingly. He raised the Golden Lion Flag in his hand, and just like all the other flag-bearers, he tied the flagpole to his forearm.
"The bunch of pigs have been peeing however they like on your Highland. Why the f*ck are you still here? Assemble your team, and follow me!"
Karlchette instantly moved and whipped his horse while shouting. Soon enough, the knights gathered themselves under the lead of the Division Commander's huge flag.
"Give us your orders! This is your Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl!" the Division Commander of 619.33 retracted his childish grin and immediately transformed into a good military officer. He was also an excellent Cavalry Commander, but it was just that there were only several of his equally excellent warriors who were still alive.
Karlchette … tidied up his armor, and gripped his knight's sword. He had lost count of how many times he had been on the frontlines. Nevertheless, he was well aware that this was his last time!
"Guards … advance!"
The troop of spearmen united into uniformed shouts. Surrounding the frontlines of their enemies, the steel and iron guns transformed into a rather nice fence. The bodies of the fence intersected with each other, not leaving room for any gaps. Once they had come across an opening, a blinding light would flash across the entangled iron fence. Followed by the heart-wrenching screams, yet another stick of iron had joined the ranks.
Spearman Colonel Karlchette had been assigned the furthest from the frontlines. He and his team could only see the massive fence in front of them. He could see that the fence was shaking, clashing with sparks, and could also the bloody stench and the stinking smell of the internal organs spilled onto the ground.
"Where's that flag? Where's that flag?" the spearman Colonel walked back and forth at the back of the formation. He searched the enemies' central group in great detail, but instead discovered that the flag of the Kingdom of Faran's Fifteenth Infantry Corp was absent at the battlefield before them.
"What's going on? Which of you have seen the flag?" Karlchette wiped off the sweat from his forehead. On the battlefield, nothing could be more frustrating than not being able to locate the enemies' flag.
The Regimental Commander of the Colonel exclaimed from the front of the formation, "Leave that aside. Don't leave your soldiers alone, and don't let them fall behind!"
Karlchette was not bothered by that. With hundreds of thousands of spearmen here, it would be a miracle for someone to fall away from the formation! The Colonel was still surveying the troops of his enemies until he noticed that the familiar flag was already waving proudly on the Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl.
"What on earth is this!" the brute cursed lowly. That was not the target area of the central group.
"Regimental Commander! Regimental Commander!" shouted the spearman who was preoccupied with tearing apart the military flag. He still remembered his purpose of battle.
"The Regimental Commander is dead!" s soldier from the frontlines exclaimed suddenly.
Karlchette scrunched his eyebrows, it only been a while … however, he was not in the mood to mourn for his Regimental Commander, he had to make a decision.
Soon enough, the last remaining Commanders of 48.13 had all gathered together. Karlchette looked at them with glimmering eyes.
"My brothers! There're two options presented in front of you. One, we'll retreat from the current frontline, rush upward along the slanting terrains of the highland, and snatch the flag; Two, we'll stick here until our Supreme Commander has issued the order for the final strike!"
The spearmen stared at the enemies' military flag, standing proudly on the highland. A lot of people were cheering around the flag which was a quite a heart-warming scene to some.
"The Regimental Commander has said! If he's dead, big brother will take the lead!"
Karlchette nodded in agreement. He picked up the long gun protruding from the ground, "Ask any one of the teams to replace us at the back, we'll launch an ambush from the side of the highland!"
It was Church's year 800, fifteenth day and the seventh month, and the time was twelve o'clock and twelve minutes. The battlefield representative of the Kingdom of Faran's Intelligence Unit sat lonely on a wooden raft, the military academy's star student with tiny eyes and slender neck could not find his position in the base camp of the allied army's command center. Instead of dying in vain with the Hoilland narcissist, he thought he would rather distance himself from the dangerous battlefield as soon as possible.
The serene Shawob River was still maintaining its usual appearance of greenish water. On the river banks, plants and flowers bloomed. The wooden raft encountered strong currents, and the Western boatman seemed to be incapable of handling the situation. The little raft allowed itself to be puppeted by the currents of the steam, and had eventually been diverged from its original direction toward the harbor.
"What … what's that?" Colonel Karlchette, the Faran Intelligence Officer suddenly pointed at the water level of the downstream.
The boatman's eyes widened, he noticed several sailboats coming from afar, "My God, it's a fleet of ships!"
"A fleet of ships?" Colonel Karlchette's eyeballs seemed to have almost dropped out from their sockets. Within an instant, he seemed to have come to a realization regarding many matters, "Well then, what are you still waiting for? Speed up! Speed up! To the river bank! To the river bank!"
The silhouette of the ships became bigger and closer!
The First Division of the artillery troops conveyed the next command with accuracy through flag language …
"Tear the cannon coating!"
The warm sunlight engulfed the Hetto Plains in an imaginary cloak; in the serenity, the vast piece of greenery was just like a giant's carpet, its lines demonstrating the roads and paths which had been there for ages, its color showcasing the liveliness and energy.
At this moment, two mirages formed from the white clouds appeared in the sky, looking just like two balls of mist rising from the blue lake. They sat atop a huge tent as if they were about to pull the tents off the ground.
From the fields, mountains and hills, serene villages and the bustling cities, the Imperial Guards were drawn to the vast opening by youth and the evilest feeling in the world. They lined up into rows, formed into teams, gathered into groups, donned in their complete armor and looked peaceful. The goddess of youth and Hades of the hell stood at the two sides of the plains respectively; the goddess prayed for their blessings while Hades commanded his pawns as usual, as if he were calculating how many souls his palace could obtain.
The clouds above the Guards kept on transforming along with the quiet illumination of sunlight. Looking from afar, the horizon beneath the people's footsteps and breaths vibrated vigorously, as if the morning dews were evaporating maniacally. Suddenly! The tide seemed struggled against the boundaries of the horizon. Light and mist vanished into thin air, and the scenery turned crystal clear. Amidst the flourishing bushes, a massive army formation appeared. The formation seemed to be splitting, but at the same time it looked as if it was being gathered as well. Long guns formed forests, the cavalry troops transformed into active streams, and the sunlight reflected from the shields and armor appeared like waves of metal. Everything seemed to be moving, but upon closer inspection, everything seemed absolutely still and silent.
One thousand warriors of the Third Group, Third Division, Nineteenth Cavalry Corp of the Sixth Column were being assigned to the frontlines of the left wing. The superior of the knights, Major Karlchette Divoli, who had named 49.7 the Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl, was riding a greenish grey hybrid horse. He did not know if the bloodline of this animal was as royal as the people had said it to be, he only knew that the little fellow had thrown tantrums often.
The Major lowered his head and looked. A red sakura flower had been sewn onto his armor by his wife. The huge and appealing sakura embroidery from between his chest plates and arms all the way to the saddle. All of a sudden, an image appeared before him. His wife was sitting beside the stove of a small house with fire-red threads in her hands. Just like fresh blood, the color was very attention-garnering.
Karlchette quickly turned his head away, he did not dare to continue his line of thought.
"Hey! Are you hot?" the Major poked a knight beside him with his elbow, who was wearing a helmet several-kilograms-heavy. While his voice echoed within the boundaries of the helmet, his words were incomprehensible to the outside world. Karlchette waved his arm in defeat. The contest had yet to begin, but he was already slightly exhausted.
The young Major spared a final glance at the knight to his left. He was rather familiar with the troop of soldiers at the frontlines. There was his offensive advisor, his flag-bearer, assistant general and many other youngsters whose faces were unrecognizable. Karlchette did not care much for others. In his eyes, he could only see the Golden Lion Flag which represented his country and everything he had worked so hard for. He tied the flag-bearer's left arm together with the flag with a red rope. So, nobody could snatch the flag, at the very least … it looked a little more assuring.
The group comprised of numerous spearmen were in the center of the formation. Corporal Karlchette, the tall Commander of Spearmen, looked to his left and right. To his dismay, falling right behind him were the soldiers clad in metal armor, and it was rather difficult for them to see into the distance. The scorching sun transformed the troop of spearmen into a glimmering forest, and the reflection at the tip of the guns switched into different shades of mirrors along with the changing sunlight. Tears flowed from Corporal Karlchette's eyes, not because he was touched, but by the pain inflicted by the striking reflections of metal.
"So unlucky!" the spearman Corporal cursed.
A fellow soldier looked at him with amusement, "Big brother, what's the progress of your task?"
Karlchette regained concentration again, and swang the gun in his hand, "Things are going well … it's just fine as usual!"
The soldier said no more, while Karlchette did not spit nonsense like how he would always do. He focused his concentration to the right wing of the formation, and deafening cheers had already sounded from that direction.
Each and every soldier directed their line of sight to the direction. Very soon, they saw an old Marshal with grey hair clad in grey armor on a big white horse, who arrived at the battlefield with lightning speed.
Corporal Karlchette gripped his long gun and extended his neck just like how all the other spearmen did.
"The Marshal is coming … the Marshal is coming!" the spearmen were all waiting, so was Karlchette. Booming cheers and the clanking sounds of swords and shields could be heard from the right side of the formation.
Karlchette said to the soldiers near him in a low voice, "We must not fall behind them, understand?"
The old Marshal with silver hair and armor sped past the troop of spearmen! Instantly, the hundreds of thousands of warriors lifted their guns, and the combination of sunlight and the reflection at the gun tip struck once again. With all his might, Karlchette vibrated the weapon in his hand with the greatest speed he could muster, resulting in waves of shining light illuminating from his weapon! Then, he cleared his throat to shout at the Marshal who had went past them.
"All hail the Marshal … all hail the Marshal!"
The old Marshal smiled. The spearmen could see that the grin of his implied that the Supreme Commander appreciated the spirits of the spearmen of the Guards. The soldiers then shouted even louder, until a raspy low voice sounded in the air.
The Marshal said, "All hail Mother Titan!"
Then, the spearmen injected more passion into their current performance.
"All hail Titan… all hail Titan!"
Karlchette seemed to have broken his voice He opened his mouth wide, and fell into the same pattern with his fellow soldiers with his thick accent. He might have realized that the vibrations of his gun had slowed down, so he started to stomp his feet. As a result, the tip of his gun radiated with blinding light again.
The huge white horse carried the Commander of the Guards from the right wing of the formation all the way to the center of the left wing. It was only after ten minutes, had the old Marshal finished inspecting his troops. Sergeant Karlchette, whom his colleagues from the Military Intelligence Bureau called "Robin", retracted his salute only after the old Marshal had returned to his original position.
The Sergeant slightly shook his shoulders, which had been a bit numb after sustaining the salute for an extended duration. Karlchette stared at the vast opening before him in envy. From his perspective, the Hetto Plains transformed into a lively lake, and the breaths of hundreds of thousands of people gathered into a lingering ball of mist on the plains. The ball of mist constantly switched between high and low, fast and slow. Just like a massive helmet, it sat above the heads of the warriors.
"Is there water in the jar?" Robin suddenly turned his head.
Karlchette's registrar shook his head. It seemed as if he had encountered ghosts when surveying the jar.
Disinterested, Robin stomped back to his old hut. There was a chair made of cane in the hut, and the fine wine was no longer there. Karlchette had finished the wine in his efforts to worship the God of Light with the traditional methods, but the God had not responded at all.
"I must get a better wine next time!" the Corporal mumbled to himself. Then, he grabbed onto the young correspondent as if he had just thought of something, "Hey, what do you think of Borodino Village's oat wine?"
The little correspondent nodded his head hard, "Not bad, not bad! It's a popular fine wine!"
Karlchette leaped onto the old cane chair. He felt a little guilty and had thought that he was to be blamed for the lack of rain. He felt that he had committed some sort of crime, leaving him with overwhelming guilt regarding this incident. He could neither breathe nor eat. He could not even sit still for a while.
Again, Robin barged out of his observation post. He was well aware that the old hut behind him no longer bore any meaning. He wished to invade into some random base camp in the lands beyond and murder a few Western bastards. By doing so, he could at least have some momentary peace in his soul.
There were clouds above the battlefield, but not much. A grey crane appeared from the cluster of clouds. It just wanted to find a spot to rest, but realized that the humans beneath the dome had no intentions of leaving any space for it to tidy up its feathers. The grey crane was not satisfied. It let out a cry, and headed back into the refreshing air current.
Flying past the plains and the shimmering river surface, the grey crane flapped its wings against the still Shawob River. Subtle ripples appeared in the waters, but vanished soon enough. However, the grey crane was fond of this feeling. It found a silent corner on the river bank, and bent its body downward elegantly as usual.
The grey crane stuck its long beak into the river, and then started to tidy up its feathers. Its feathers were the foundations of its capability of flight, and it was proud of them. At the same time, it was also troubled by its feathers, as there would always be people who had ill intentions toward them.
"Big fellow? Have you stared enough?" the grey crane finally lost its patience. It turned its head backward with slight fury, and glared at the beast behind it with round, black eyes.
"Sorry! I'm just passing by the area …" Little Karlchette came near the riverside in low spirits. It bent its neck, and sipped a mouthful of lukewarm river water.
The grey crane could sense the friendliness in each and every word and action of the bigger animal. It did not mind having a casual conversation with the lonely passer-by to kill time.
-------------------
"With that being said … I'm so sorry! I've initially thought that you planned to bite me. These feathers of mine can be made into a basket of feather pens, I was worried that you were having something in your mind."
Little Karlchette let out a puff, "I'm a soldier, I'll never do anything like that!"
"You're a soldier?" the grey crane's eyes widened in disbelief.
Little Karlchette wagged its butt, as if it was trying to show off its mark of the Abedoly Military Stable.
"Well then … dear soldier, what brings you here?"
Little Karlchette turned its head away in shame, "I've lost my way …"
The mean and sarcastic grey crane showed a mocking expression, "Then you're no soldier. A soldier won't get lost, and only a lost stray horse would look as pathetic as you."
Little Karlchette's eyes widened, "But I'm really a soldier!"
"No! You're not!" the grey crane stretched its long neck. It seemed to be sizing up the frowning Little Karlchette with its despicable facial expression.
Little Karlchette was losing its patience. To be arguing with a grey crane which was infamous for its constant rambling, what else did it mean other than it was too free? Furthermore, Little Karlchette was so starved to the point that it was seeing stars.
"Get away from me, will you?"
The grey crane shrugged nonchalantly, "To be frank, I plan to do so!"
The grey crane had won. It wagged to the other side arrogantly, and continued tidying up its feathers. Let the huge foolish horse continue to reflect on itself here! A lost soldier? The grey crane had never heard of such a thing!
Little Karlchette surveyed its surroundings and came to a conclusion that it had never visited the place. Its butt was screaming in pain, and its hooves were hurt by the constant friction. Its master … Little Karlchette felt wronged whenever it thought of its master who had stabbed it, how could he do so?
Tears flowed from the horse's eyes. It admitted that it was bad in recognizing directions, and it also accepted the fact that it had been blinded by its wrath that it had been stabbed in the butt. Nevertheless, it was an excellent breed of horse from the Abedoly Military Stable.
It should not have been in such circumstances. Moreover … how was his master doing right now? Although it had been stabbed, Little Karlchette was still worried about its master's situation.
"Hey! Big guy! If I were you, I'd fly to the sky to have a look!" it was hard to come by a sympathetic grey crane.
Little Karlchette was stunned momentarily. It looked at the grey crane's feathers, and looked at its huge butt. After some time, it recovered from the stun and said, "Enough, I'm sick of being unlucky. Please leave me alone."
The grey crane waddled over, and pointed at the river bank opposite them with its wing.
"My friend, for the sake of the God of Light, I must give you some guidance! Walk along the river bank, and you'll come to a place with humans. As long as there are humans, there'll be hope. You're not like me, so I bet those farmers will definitely welcome you."
Little Karlchette's eyes widened in disbelief, "Really?"
The grey crane flapped its wings, and leapt into the air, "It's true, my friend! Good luck to you!"
Little Karlchette immediately recovered its senses, and went on its way. It seemed to be saying along the lines of :
"Thank you! You've been such a great help!"
However, Little Karlchette did not understand the grey crane's words well. It ran along the river bank, and came to a crossroad soon after.
Although it had known that its master had hidden something on its body, it was not as intelligent as it appeared. The horse which was simply running around aimlessly traversed along the road away from the river. When realization had dawned on it that it had lost its way again, it could only pray. It could only wish that it could meet an old horse which knew the way the next time it stopped, or if there were no other options … a mule would do the trick too! At the very least, there would not be any problems in their communication.
"It seems that … it's true that some people simply don't understand the language of others!" the Hoilland King, Luth VII, sat in the huge military tent, and mocked the Faran Intelligence Officer, who was standing at the side in courtesy, with his usual high and mighty demeanor.
The king clenched the document in his hands. Amused, he sized up Colonel Karlchette, who had a pointy mouth and sunken cheeks, "Hey … regardless of the details of the report a monkey like you sent, please do open the tent and look outside!"
The Faran Intelligence Officer followed suit and opened the tent.
"What do you see?"
Colonel Karlchette could only respond, "Reporting, your Majesty, I see the Titan Guards' Offensive Army Group One, which had been on standby to launch their attacks!"
"Offensive Army Group One? Offensive Army Group One?" Luth VII turned his head away with slight annoyance, "Are you saying that … you still firmly believe that the Titan Guards' Offensive Army Group Two is just nearby?"
Colonel Karlchette nodded in affirmation. He looked at the high-ranking officers in the tent who seemed to be reluctant to comment on the matter. Nevertheless, Karlchette understood that the smart bunch had the same concerns as he.
"Your Majesty, although the Major of the Titan's Military Intelligence Bureau did not reveal any valuable information, I believe that his mere appearance at the location near the harbor already implies that … Offensive Army Group Two, which is led by Marshal O'Neil is currently executing their tasks. On the other hand, we will be split into two groups by the river, and will be completely cornered in the end!"
The Hoilland King used his golden cane to knock on a specific location on the map, "These are this morning's reports, the Marshal of the Guards, Prince O'Neil's Offensive Army Group Two is still in some province 140 kilometers away from the battlefield! Do you think that the Titans are all marathon champions? Is it possible for them to travel 140 kilometers in just four hours?" Colonel Karlchette subconsciously squinted his scheming grey eyes, "Your Majesty, it is indeed unfeasible for the infantry troops, but if the cavalries are to give their all … it might be possible!"
The Hoilland King pointed at the battlefield outside the door, "What do you want me to do then? Greet Alan, and flee after asking him to have the battle another day?"
"Your Majesty, this is the best course of action!"
"Get out!" Luth VII slumped into the chair angrily. If the person in front of him was not a part of the Faran camp, he would have stuffed the bastard into the spittoon long ago.
Colonel Karlchette walked out of the huge tent without looking back. The scene immediately quieted down. The officers of the alliance had all stopped their whisperings and secretly sized up the king who sat with a dignified appearance. Then, they directed their complicated gaze toward the battlefield outside. The Titans had already assembled themselves into neat rows, and the Northern horizon was brimming with an intense murderous atmosphere.
"Alright! We can finally concentrate on dealing with Alan!" Luth VII suddenly applauded, attracting everyone's attention.
"I now announce that …" the king stood up from his golden seat which was decorated with jewelry.
"The competition begins!"
It was Church's year 800, fifteenth day of the seventh month. The time was thirteen minutes to ten. The largest scaled military competition in all of the Westland's history was about to commence. Opening up the historical readings of "History of Titan's Defending War", every single detail of the events transpired on the fifteenth day had been described in great detail. However, the only limitation was that the people had read only read about Alan Marshal's words and actions most of the time. As for the other lives on the battlefield, the people had no concrete idea of them. Thus, the people were incapable of understanding their emotions and the impending occurrences.
It was nine o'clock and fifty-six minutes. The messenger's flag language was late! Had it been late for one minute? Or two? Colonel Karlchette Divoli who had been standing at the position of 619.33 was not clear at all. With the short span of waiting time, he had come up with a poem internally.
Oh beautiful …, I am waiting for you. Your embrace..."Guards, advance!"
Upon hearing the familiar shout, Major Karlchette regained his attention and turned toward his fellow warriors. ….
He said to the warriors, "For Mother Titan!"
The knights responded in return, "All hail the country!"
"All hail the country!" the shouts sounded simultaneously across the entire four to five miles of Titan's frontlines, and the flag stood proudly on the observatory tower. According to the military arrangements, a cavalry corps and two infantry corps belonging to the left wing's sixth column were the first to launch their attacks onto the enemies before them.
The horses trampled the ground. Along with the movements of the horses, the knights bounced up and down and traversed away from the land. As a result of the whippings, the horses started to moan. They stretched all four of their limbs and the muscles on their bodies. Instantly, the land had begun to fly backward at top speed, and the sceneries in their scope of vision had turned blurry.
"Charge, Charge!" Colonel Karlchette followed his flag-bearer closely. Under the illumination of the sunlight, the golden lion seemed as if it would leap out from the flag anytime, and then devour the humans.
Just like his combat horse, the Colonel was spitting saliva. The combat horses carried the knights into their offensive state at the highest speed they could muster, and were getting closer to Karlchette's Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl! The young Major of the Guards tightened his grip on the whip, and his combat horse immediately raised its front hoofs and jumped forward! He had now landed onto the slope of the highland, and could even hear the Fire-Eyed Girl's series of laughter which sounded like the ringing of bells. Moreover, he even saw the Fire-Eyed Girl's skin emitting the fragrance of flora.
Karlchette used the back of his sword to knock on his horse. The slope at the Northern area of the highland was slightly more slanted than that at the Southern part. This brought some difficulties to the cavalry troop at the peak. Nevertheless, it had done nothing to interfere with the Guard's will to conquer. The knights on the highland transformed into a compact formation as if a carpet was being rolled out non-stop toward the highland.
"What's that?" Karlchette stared at the highland before him questioningly. He noticed an unfamiliar flag rising slowly on the highland. Across the sky, the back-formation of the Titan's Guards had already shot a rain of arrows toward the Southern part of the highland. Along with the continuous rising of the flag, Karlchette finally saw the knight bearing the flag. Although he had almost bumped into his opponent just like that, he had managed to draw his sword in time. The opponent's neck came into contact with the sword, and the knight slumped onto the ground together with his military flag.
Karlchette's 619.33 had finally reached the peak. However, they were met with countless enemies. The fall of the flag-bearer had been nothing more than the beginning of the competition. Time seemed to have frozen for half a second just when the Major of the Guard pulled his horse to a stop. The very next instant, the two parties rushed toward each other and were entangled like an intimate couple.
The clashing sounds of weaponry, the horrifying screams of horses and humans, the various ear-piercing shouts, and the flying dust and stones; whatever could be seen were only scenes of people slaughtering each other, and whatever sounds which were heard signified destruction! The geography of the highland had restricted the speed of the parties' clash, and the people could only fight within limited space. On the other hand, most of the knights were all on standby on the left side of the highland, waiting to fill up the vacant positions of their comrades.
The exchanges of the arrows and guns had flown past the peak of the highland and landed on the base camps of both sides. Blood splattered, and human bodies rose and fell like the sea. Some of the knights who had long lost their lives were being squeezed in between the horses and their comrades. Their faces were overcome with blankness, which was a stark difference with the atmosphere of the battle.
Surprisingly, the petite body of Karlchette had not been trampled over by the people in the first wave of the onslaught. Instead, he was still flinging his bloodied sword forward. The Major of the Guards was stuck together with his knights, and could not see his opponents clearly. He only knew that he needed to defend himself from the chaotic weapons.
"Karlchette! Karlchette!"
Much energy had been exhausted for Karlchette to change directions and detach its horse from the ranks of the formation. He looked at the group behind him, and confirmed that the voice came from his Corp Commander.
"Where's your flag? Where's your flag?"
Karlchette surveyed his surroundings in alarm. Where was his flag? The young Major did not pay any attention to the curses and shouts of the Corp Commander. He raced back and forth on the highlands and reminded every soldier who seemed unoccupied to look out for their flag.
Finally, a sharp old soldier had located the flag-bearer who was surrounded by many comrades. He rushed forward immediately only to find that all that was left of the flag-bearer was a bloody broken arm. The old soldier was anxious. He used the hilt of his sword to separate the flag-bearer from the bunch of people, and found the blurry Golden Lion Flag somewhere near the flag-bearer.
The broken limb was tied firmly to the Golden Lion flagpole. The old soldier turned stern immediately. He had not even hesitated for a split second before tearing the flag off the limb and attaching it to his left arm.
"Hya! Hya!" the old soldier rushed toward his Regimental Commander. The petite Karlchette seemed shy and extremely delighted at the same time.
"Guards … go forth! Charge!" the Colonel shouted, and repeated the slogans of "For Mother Titan" and "All hail the empire" at least once. Reality had proved that this trick was indeed very effective!
The group of knights of the Guards which had gathered at the highland began to move. They knocked with their horses' chests, and used their swords and lances to tackle any opening they could get!
When Karlchette and his newly-appointed flag-bearer had joined the frontlines again, the enemies' cavalries were gradually retreating toward the lower terrains of the highland.
"Reporting, Marshal! 619.33 has successfully landed!"
The Commander of the Guards on the tall observatory tower quickly adjusted the direction of the lens of the single-lens telescope. Then, the bloodied and dusty Golden Lion Flag waving proudly on the peak of the narrow highland. "Excellent! We've won the first bout! Now get all of them to retreat!"
"What?" the messengers and observatory officers on the battlefield widened their eyes in unison.
Silver Fox Alan moved his telescope away from the central highland of the battlefield's left wing. He only said softly, "Relay the command … I just hope that it can still make it on time!"
It might be responding to the words of the Commander of the Guards, that the flag had suddenly exploded into a ball of flame. Under the witnesses of the hundreds of thousands of warriors, the fire had burnt the flag and its surrounding knights into ashes! The very next instant, rounds and rounds of explosions had torn apart the burning air above the battlefield. Along with the vigorous air currents, the ammunition had landed near the frontlines at the peak of the highland.
The bugle signaling retreat sounded plain and helpless. After Karlchette had successfully escaped from the right side of the highland away from the scope of the cannon's firing, he had recovered from the tinnitus which had caused a splitting headache. He could never forget the scene. All of a sudden, it was as if a blank hole had appeared in the sky out of nowhere. Next, a bomb shot out from it at high speed. The entire body of his flag-bearer instantly expanded and burst into pieces.
The combat horse of the Guards' Major ran like there was no tomorrow, following closely after its terrified comrades toward the back rows of the formation. It simply had no idea how reluctant its master had felt.
Karlchette panted heavily, and his armor had been bombarded with blood from the cannons. He swore internally that he would definitely visit this highland again.
The Sixth Infantry Corp and Tenth Infantry Corp of the Sixth Column of Titan's left-wing group approached the highland slowly. The explosions on the battlefield were getting louder and more heated, especially near the peak. Fire seemed to be exploding out of thin air, and the battlefield was engulfed in smoke. If one listened quietly, one could even determine the target location and traveling distance of the cannons.
Titans' infantry troops were advancing blindly. They simply did not understand, why were the cavalries, with their great mobility, required to retreat too? Could it possibly be that the infantry troops were going to defend against the cannon fire with their shields instead?
Thank God! The Sixth Infantry Corp had not continued toward the highland. They had stopped a hundred steps away, and assembled themselves into a neat assault formation. The officers from each branch had unveiled the oilcloths on the trailers respectively, revealing several small catapults and approximately a hundred crossbows, each equipped with twelve arrows.
Alan retracted his stare in satisfaction. These crossbows capable of firing twelve iron arrows at once had once been the most treasured war asset of the Guards, and had been stored in the dark warehouses for years.
At this point, the artilleries had already made their appearances on the battlefield. Thus, it would be inappropriate for the outdated but valuable assets to remain concealed.
"Before the left wing is stuck in a tug of war, right wing! Especially the ninth and eleventh columns under the jurisdiction of Military District Seventeen, you must fight off any invaders before it comes to a direct confrontation!"
Alan relayed his commands decisively. However, he had noticed that the right wing had already launched their attacks on the battlefield.
Advancing along the borders of the forest, the right-wing army of Titan walked out of the massive and secluded base camp. This, was the entire infantry manpower of Military District Seventeen. The army groups organized themselves into the shape of the letter "M", and closed upon the battlefield gradually. Opposite the warriors, the right wing of the Anti-Titan Alliance had already fallen into their formations, with the archers in front. On the other hand, the shield-bearers and ax-bearers were positioned near the wooden fence behind the archers. The Titan's army advanced forward one step by another, and the two parties had a clear view of each other only after a quarter of an hour.
Finally, shouts were heard from the right wing of the Anti-Titan Alliance's formation, followed closely by the unified shootings of the archers. Without fear, the Titan warriors stared at the sky, raised their shields above their heads close to each other. Just like a concentrated cluster of clouds, the black rain of arrows flew past the sky with the coarse sounds of "whoosh", and transformed into needle-like downpour upon landing. To some, the rain was a rather enchanting sight. The rain hit on the shields, giving off the crisp sounds of metal clashing against metal. The Titan warriors struggled to advance forward with bent backs. While the downpour of arrows succeeded in ruining their neat formation, it could do nothing to weaken their resolve. Looking at their comrades who were falling to the ground one after another, they also noticed that the enemies' base was getting closer. The archers concealed under the shields waited for the opportunity. Finally, the round of concentrated shootings had paused, and the warriors bearing the shields had moved aside to clear a path. At the same time, Titan's archers had also moved in unison. They fired a round of retaliation by lifting their bow at an equal speed as the first archer.
"Fire at will! Fire at will!"
The enemies' shouts were within earshot of the Titan warriors. The soldiers at the frontlines were thrown off their feet for a moment. Soon enough, their emotions had been replaced with heightened morale and will. A soldier at the first row had suddenly flung his shield to the side, effectively revealing his body. He quickly unsheathed his glimmering sword and pointed the sword tip at the enemies in front.
"Guards …" countless arrows pierced through the soldier who had lost his defenses, and his life had been robbed by the overwhelming pain in his chest and his bloodied body. However, hundreds of thousands of warriors had discarded their shields at the same time, and had completed the brave words of the Battlefield Commander with their firmest, most touching voices!
"Guards, charge… charge! For Mother Titan!"
The enemies' archers manically retreated backward. They pushed against the soldiers behind them, and left their backs revealed to the approaching Guards.
The warriors had no sympathy for their enemies' cowardice. Before the clashes at the frontlines, countless axes and guns had been flung away! Finally, a low, heart-wrenching sound rumbled at the frontlines, and the huge momentum of the two parties had thrown countless soldiers into the air. In the very next instant, guns had pierced through the shields, and right into each other's bodies. The frontlines now seemed like a fine, red line, just like good red silk produced by the far East. The line of silk was being torn apart and distorted by the two strong figures. Nevertheless, it had excellent flexibility and energy. Along with the splattering blood and the mess of human bodies, the fine red silk seemed to flail up and down in the blood red dye cauldron. It had robbed countless lives of the dyes, transforming into a unique charm.
Peeking through the compact ranks of the central army, Silver Fox Alan looked at the faraway primary forces of the allied armies. No matter what, he deeply admired the bravery of the Hoillander Marshal. Lavendi Mulierce had gathered the Faran army which possessed the greatest offensive prowess and the Hoillander artillery troops in the left wing of the battlefield, leaving the right wing with only the timid and cowardly Leblesians. Alan could not say for certain if this was a risk or a bet. However, he knew that the allied army was being put in a rather disadvantageous position on the flat-ground battlefield due to their smaller numbers.
"Alright! Order the central group forth!" Silver Fox turned toward his messenger, "Inform the Commanding Officers of the First and Fourth Column to slow down their attacks. They must wait until the Steinberger Timberwolves had completely torn apart the defenses of the allied armies' right wing to launch any fatal blows!"
General Bencil Donnis the Commanding Officer of Military District Twelve was donned in the plain uniform of a Commissioned Officer, and it was painfully obvious to everyone that he had definitely borrowed the clothes from someone else. To a General who had risen to the rank of Commander, he could not stand all the things that had happened on the battlefield.
Bencil walked out from the corner of the observatory tower, and directly into the Commander's umbrella to shield from the sun.
"Hey! Are you pulling off that trick again?"
Alan turned his head, "What are you trying to say?"
Bencil pointed at the Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl on the battlefield at the left wing, which was smoldering in smoke, "You've been acting like you're going to decide the outcome of the battle with a powerful offense. You've even issued the national flag to the first batch of offensive groups, but the two remaining columns in the left wing are all second-raters. In fact, you don't have the slightest intention to make your move right there, do you?"
Alan shrugged nonchalantly, "Old friend, what you've just said can only be considered as part of the truth, but what does this mean then?"
"It simply means that our left wing will have to withstand attacks of three to four folds of what they'll be facing under normal circumstances. If there's any slip, they'll all be blasted into rotten meat by the enemies' cannons!"
Bencil said while frowning at the national flag, which stood stubbornly among the war formations.
Alan turned his head away, and said coldly, "If I'm as emotional as you, I'm afraid this country is about to disappear!"
General Bencil gripped hard on the fence around the observatory tower. He despised the fact that Silver Fox had the tendency to sacrifice human lives in exchange for a more desirable war outcome.
It was Church's year 800, fifteenth day of the seventh month, eleven o'clock and thirty-six minutes. It had been an hour and a half into the most important land battle of Titan's first war to defend its nation. However, Karlchette had already been looking for his flag on the battlefield for the second time. The young Major of the Guards sized up the national flags which had one of its corners destroyed, and looked at the two broken arms attached to the flagpole. He was hesitating.
One of the arms had been broken at the elbow. The cut was clean and smooth, and it was painfully obvious that the arm had been chopped by an extremely sharp tool; on the other hand, the other broken arm was a messy pile of flesh and blood, giving off a terrifying atmosphere of a burning corpse. These were the horrifying sights caused by the enemies' cannons.
Karlchette was still hesitating, he had already torn a piece of the corner of his sleeve. Just as he was about to tie the flagpole to his palm, his Division Commander hurried over. Karlchette was in a daze as his superior had snatched the flag from him.
"You have more important matters to attend to!" the Supreme Officer chuckled menacingly. He raised the Golden Lion Flag in his hand, and just like all the other flag-bearers, he tied the flagpole to his forearm.
"The bunch of pigs have been peeing however they like on your Highland. Why the f*ck are you still here? Assemble your team, and follow me!"
Karlchette instantly moved and whipped his horse while shouting. Soon enough, the knights gathered themselves under the lead of the Division Commander's huge flag.
"Give us your orders! This is your Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl!" the Division Commander of 619.33 retracted his childish grin and immediately transformed into a good military officer. He was also an excellent Cavalry Commander, but it was just that there were only several of his equally excellent warriors who were still alive.
Karlchette … tidied up his armor, and gripped his knight's sword. He had lost count of how many times he had been on the frontlines. Nevertheless, he was well aware that this was his last time!
"Guards … advance!"
The troop of spearmen united into uniformed shouts. Surrounding the frontlines of their enemies, the steel and iron guns transformed into a rather nice fence. The bodies of the fence intersected with each other, not leaving room for any gaps. Once they had come across an opening, a blinding light would flash across the entangled iron fence. Followed by the heart-wrenching screams, yet another stick of iron had joined the ranks.
Spearman Colonel Karlchette had been assigned the furthest from the frontlines. He and his team could only see the massive fence in front of them. He could see that the fence was shaking, clashing with sparks, and could also the bloody stench and the stinking smell of the internal organs spilled onto the ground.
"Where's that flag? Where's that flag?" the spearman Colonel walked back and forth at the back of the formation. He searched the enemies' central group in great detail, but instead discovered that the flag of the Kingdom of Faran's Fifteenth Infantry Corp was absent at the battlefield before them.
"What's going on? Which of you have seen the flag?" Karlchette wiped off the sweat from his forehead. On the battlefield, nothing could be more frustrating than not being able to locate the enemies' flag.
The Regimental Commander of the Colonel exclaimed from the front of the formation, "Leave that aside. Don't leave your soldiers alone, and don't let them fall behind!"
Karlchette was not bothered by that. With hundreds of thousands of spearmen here, it would be a miracle for someone to fall away from the formation! The Colonel was still surveying the troops of his enemies until he noticed that the familiar flag was already waving proudly on the Highland of the Fire-Eyed Girl.
"What on earth is this!" the brute cursed lowly. That was not the target area of the central group.
"Regimental Commander! Regimental Commander!" shouted the spearman who was preoccupied with tearing apart the military flag. He still remembered his purpose of battle.
"The Regimental Commander is dead!" s soldier from the frontlines exclaimed suddenly.
Karlchette scrunched his eyebrows, it only been a while … however, he was not in the mood to mourn for his Regimental Commander, he had to make a decision.
Soon enough, the last remaining Commanders of 48.13 had all gathered together. Karlchette looked at them with glimmering eyes.
"My brothers! There're two options presented in front of you. One, we'll retreat from the current frontline, rush upward along the slanting terrains of the highland, and snatch the flag; Two, we'll stick here until our Supreme Commander has issued the order for the final strike!"
The spearmen stared at the enemies' military flag, standing proudly on the highland. A lot of people were cheering around the flag which was a quite a heart-warming scene to some.
"The Regimental Commander has said! If he's dead, big brother will take the lead!"
Karlchette nodded in agreement. He picked up the long gun protruding from the ground, "Ask any one of the teams to replace us at the back, we'll launch an ambush from the side of the highland!"
It was Church's year 800, fifteenth day and the seventh month, and the time was twelve o'clock and twelve minutes. The battlefield representative of the Kingdom of Faran's Intelligence Unit sat lonely on a wooden raft, the military academy's star student with tiny eyes and slender neck could not find his position in the base camp of the allied army's command center. Instead of dying in vain with the Hoilland narcissist, he thought he would rather distance himself from the dangerous battlefield as soon as possible.
The serene Shawob River was still maintaining its usual appearance of greenish water. On the river banks, plants and flowers bloomed. The wooden raft encountered strong currents, and the Western boatman seemed to be incapable of handling the situation. The little raft allowed itself to be puppeted by the currents of the steam, and had eventually been diverged from its original direction toward the harbor.
"What … what's that?" Colonel Karlchette, the Faran Intelligence Officer suddenly pointed at the water level of the downstream.
The boatman's eyes widened, he noticed several sailboats coming from afar, "My God, it's a fleet of ships!"
"A fleet of ships?" Colonel Karlchette's eyeballs seemed to have almost dropped out from their sockets. Within an instant, he seemed to have come to a realization regarding many matters, "Well then, what are you still waiting for? Speed up! Speed up! To the river bank! To the river bank!"
The silhouette of the ships became bigger and closer!
The First Division of the artillery troops conveyed the next command with accuracy through flag language …
"Tear the cannon coating!"
