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Touch of Fate - Chapter 156

Published at 15th of August 2019 02:48:27 PM


Chapter 156

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Something exploded amongst the soldiers of the left wing, sending shattered men flying through the air. The sounds of the battlefield were briefly replaced with a high pitched ringing, while Marshal Jurien caught her balance. She had a few seconds to recover before her opponent resumed his attack. Luckily, he had been similarly affected by the concussive force of whatever magic had been unleashed, so she was able to deflect the clumsy blow with the haft of her halberd.

The Tennundian officer was left unbalanced, making him easy prey for her follow up swing, which embedded the spiked head of her weapon into his head, punching through his helmet in the process. The man slumped forward in a boneless heap, pushing her backwards with his sheer bulk. She planted a foot on his back, and leveraged the halberd free with a grunt. She then took a moment to survey the battlefield, her experienced eye quickly surveying the situation.

It was going poorly.

The enemy had more Tier 3 mages, and had been using the advantage to great effect. Most of the common soldiers had been thrown into disorder by the near constant magical attacks, and her own Mage Corps were hard pressed to defend against them, let alone add their own might to the fray.

As such, the Almirans were being pushed back in both the left and the center. Long years of experience told her that they were one step away from breaking, which would lead to a massacre. The Tennundian tactician seemed to be planning something along those lines, since it looked like they'd kept the majority of their light cavalry in reserve.

The only saving grace was on the right wing, where Prince Johnathan had succeeded in leading a column of knights deep into enemy lines. According to the last report she'd heard, the group had even managed to take out one of the high tier mages that had been giving them so much trouble.

From the sounds of it, with a little support, General Yolin and the remainder of the right wing could shatter their Tennundian opponents and threaten the enemy headquarters. It was unfortunate that the Almirans had to commit their reserves to holding the center.

[What I wouldn't give for a company of heavy cavalry right now.]

"Marshal! I have a report from Adjutant Ivana." A messenger yelled from nearby.

Jurien stalked back towards the sound of the youth's voice, once again passing through the lines she'd left during her earlier duel. The soldiers respectfully parted and made room for her. It wouldn't be long before the enemy launched their next assault, and she could see the fear and hesitation in the faces of every man and woman she passed.

"What's the news?" The marshal asked after arriving by the breathless messenger who was taking shelter behind an overturned wagon.

"The Adjutant advises that you take what remains of the left wing and center, and fall back to our fortifications in preparation for a general retreat." The man answered in a solemn tone.


Jurien was stunned. This was tantamount to asking her to abandon the entire right wing along with the crown prince of Almir. "Did she say why?"

She trusted the judgement of her longtime tactician, and ordinarily wouldn't question one of her strategies, but this move smacked of desperation.

"Yes, ma'am. Our scouts have spotted another Tennundian army approaching from the north. Preliminary reports put their numbers at nearly twenty thousand, with the possibility of more in other columns."

A chill ran down Jurien's spine.

Ivana's strategies had been based on the assumption that the Tennunidans would capitalize on their earlier victories by seizing territory to the east, cutting their army off from support, and establishing a stranglehold on the region surrounding the Almiran capital in preparation for a siege. All they would need to do was leave a small rearguard at the only feasible river crossing, and the Western Army would be powerless to stop them.

In one fell swoop, they could seize the heartland of Almir without a fight. With the majority of the capital's elite warriors trapped on the wrong side of the river, there would never be a more opportune time.

Yet they were wasting valuable time and resources pursuing her forces. It was simply strategically unsound. What were they aiming at? Even the prince wasn't worth the effort, since he still had three siblings to take over should he fall. It was baffling.

However, she didn't have time to contemplate the idiosyncrasies of Tennundian military practices. Her forces were in a precarious situation, and there was no way to save everyone. Her choice now lay in deciding how many of her troops would survive to fight in the next conflict.

With a heavy heart, she gave the command, signaling the nearby messengers to spread the word. "To all soldiers! We are falling back to our command center. Assume defensive positions there."

There was a brief moment of silence, followed by a flurry of activity as the messengers took off and officers began shouting orders of their own.

Jurien grabbed the one heading towards the right wing before he could leave. "Tell General Yolin that he is to preserve as many troops as he can, but must fall back as quickly as possible."

The man saluted, "Yes, Ma'am!" before taking off once more.

She felt a pang of guilt for sending the young man towards almost certain death, but she also knew his sacrifice might spare hundreds of others. Watching as her army began the laborious process of shifting into a fighting retreat, she joined the rearguard, preparing to protect as many of her soldiers as she could.

"May the gods watch over you, Your Highness." She muttered under her breath, just before the first wave of pursuers hit.

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"All I am saying, is that there are pros as well as cons. Nobility will bring power, respect, and money, once they get around to assigning some territory. These are all things we've been working towards. Why not let them give us a shortcut?" Sera argued.

She was dressed in a light pink evening gown that served to accentuate her elegant neckline and slender shoulders. Her hair had been done up with a stylish silver hairpin. However, the only other piece of jewelry she wore was a recently acquired copper bracelet on one arm. She was sitting on side of the carriage, engaged in a heated debate with Brenden while the group was on the way to Broderick's social gathering.

The beastman retorted, "And I'm saying that there is no need for Mike to bend his knee to the king. If you hadn't noticed, we have already become much stronger, and money hasn't been an issue. Mike doesn't need to join the aristocracy to keep it up."

He was wearing a tailored suit which made him look particularly dashing. Especially since Sera had managed to convince him to sit still long enough to tame the tangled mess that was his hair.

"You are taking extraordinary circumstances as if they were a given." She replied coolly.

"Aren't they, when Mike's involved?"

Sera had to give him that one. "Alright, a fair point, but let me make a rebuttal. All of our recently acquired wealth has come from the nobility in some form or another. There is a reason for that. In every country I've ever been in, it is the aristocracy that stands at the pinnacle. They are the ones that hold the power. If Mike chooses to become a noble, then it would open doors we wouldn't have otherwise."

"You're talking like the nobles rule the world, when you know very well that these systems only exist because those with true power allow it. Aren't those powerful nobles forced to beg and scrap in front of people like the Archmage?" Brenden asked heatedly. This was evidently upsetting him for some reason.

"Are we to compare ourselves to Tier 4s now? Be reasonable."

"I don't know about the three of us, but surely Mike will reach that level one day. Why should we limit his options at this point?"

"You think whatever noble position he accepted now would matter, if he achieved that level of power? No, the barony is merely a stepping stone, providing him with the tools and resources necessary to become strong enough for it to not matter." Sera replied haughtily.

"Why do you assume he needs the help at all? From what I have seen, he's doing a fine job of improving himself without being a noble."

"Oh?" She said, sounding slightly offended, and turned towards Mike, who was busy copying down as much information as he could from the Scrivening book. He was planning on returning it once he'd gotten everything of value from it. "Remind me Mike, how many Tier 4 skills do you have? According to Brenden it should be easy for you to improve to that point."

While Mike was checking his <Status>, the beastman broke in, "Now hold on, I wasn't saying it would be easy, only that I'm confident he could achieve it on his own."

Speaking distractedly while he concentrated on his current project, Mike answered Sera's question. "Currently, just one. Although there are a few that are starting to get close."

[Now, where was I? Something about concept ratios in the ink mixtures, I think.]

He didn't notice the silence which had descended on the carriage as all three of his companions were staring at him in shock. Tal finally broke the silence with a snort of laughter, which was delivered in her usual monotone, somehow.

"Gods dammit." Brenden cursed under his breath, unhappy to win the argument in this manner.

Sera clutched her head, "It's just not fair."




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