Chapter 83: Pieces In Place

Chapter 83: Pieces In Place

Days of hiding quickly evaporated as Erec commanded his group to pull back and rejoin their approaching Army. Thankfully, his expedition was a complete success. Minor skirmishes began to erupt across the wasteland as the Army encircled the White Stag. He’d led his people back to the Army without a single engagement.

Like a wave, the humans moved to strategic points surrounding the White Stag, effectively choking out any pathway to escape. It split their main forces, but it would end this hunt: one way or another.

Being in the main Army was a relief, and this time around, Erec officially renounced his authority and had his command stripped from him. As much as he considered leading them into the primary battle himself, he wasn't experienced enough. If anything, demanding to remain in command would only hurt the people he led. It didn’t take much urging to acknowledge that and submit himself as another unit.The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñòv€l-B1n.

Though, Boldwick did promise him a good position in the fighting. Until then, he had to vow to stay away from the skirmishes.

He’d wait to fight once the real push began.

Until then, more of the monsters spewed out from the Rifts—according to the reports, two more opened near the White Stag. It was reinforcing its position and threw small attacks.

It could be that the Stag was trying to exhaust them. This was an untenable position. At some point, they’d have to break through and kill the Stag before running out of resources.

Until then, Erec found himself constantly wandering around with aimless abandon. He clutched a bread roll in his right hand and sighed. At least Munchy didn’t have any problems with eating while others were out there bleeding instead of them.

He’d nabbed an extra treat out to feed the squirrel—which despite all the fighting and constant travel, appeared to be having the time of its life. Munchy made a home of Garin’s Armor and lived like a king.

Not much longer.

Tomorrow was the day. Tomorrow the hunt would end for good.

Erec caught the familiar hushed whispers in the camp around him. They were as eager as him for it to end. However, their reasoning was likely different. They wanted to return to the walls, to their safety and families, since they typically served in a much more domestic and policing manner than blatantly fighting these horrors. He hoped this would be it in a day, this would end, and they’d get their wish.

To him, the mere excitement of tomorrow was alarming, and it took this aimless wandering to still his chaotic heart.

Not everyone would make it back after the fight. How many corpses might end up littering the wasteland to put an end to the mad Stag’s quest to kill them all? And why was it that he couldn’t find the worry inside himself that he might end up among the bodies?

“I can’t do this,” a strained voice called from inside a tent—one that startled Erec more than any other. It was Bedwyr’s voice. More alarming was the tone—he couldn’t remember hearing the last time his brother spoke quite like that.

Unable to help himself, Erec snuck closer to the tent it came from, discreetly pulling the cloth at the front to get a peek inside. Sure enough, there was Bedwyr with a frown on his face.

As expected, the amassed Silent Ones remained completely still only a couple of miles away. This same scenario was undoubtedly reflected in a few other positions wherever their Army gathered. Like a vice, they’d squeeze in on the Stag’s fortress and draw out the defenses it’d managed to pull from the Rifts and turn into puppets.

But their point wasn’t to overwhelm the monsters. Not with the Rifts wide open. No, they’d soften the front lines and weaken it enough for the strike forces filed with Elite Knights to break through and target the Stag and close the Rifts.

Somewhere among that force was Bedwyr. Erec felt the sting of jealousy that he wasn’t along for that battle—but it made sense. He was a first-year initiate. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t even be working with Dame Robin’s force. It was only due to his raw Strength that rivaled some Knight Protectors that afforded him this chance.

Not to mention that his abilities didn’t lend well to a targeted strike like that.

Still, it felt like he was a step behind his brother. Like it always had throughout his life. As much as others had assured him he was doing well, with Bedwyr’s ability, could he ever really rival him?

“Well? Got everything?” Dame Robin asked him specifically, as he’d failed to respond. Unlike the rest of the Knights, they had with them.

“Yes, ma’am.” Erec tapped the hatchets strapped to his side, and a bit more of a wicked one-handed axe secured on his lower back. His previous troop donated him a couple more weapons as a parting gift, and though he didn’t expect to hold on to them for long, he’d put them to good use. This was going to be a long fight, and he didn’t intend to slow Dame Robin down.

Sir Jefferson clapped him on the shoulder. “It’ll be alright. We’ve got your back as long as you’ve got ours.” The man said.

The rest of these Knights were unknown to Erec, which suited him fine. His friends were somewhere else at a safer part of the battlefield, interwoven within the legion below.

Their squad wasn’t composed of just Verdant Oak Knights—they had four of their own and an equal number of Knights from the Azure Tower and Crimson Lotus.

They only had two Knights from the Silver Flames. Based on the brief tactical outline Dame Robin gave beforehand, those two were support troops.

Their tactics for the battle were relatively simple.

Anywhere on the battlefield, the monsters seemed to become too much for the regular legion; they were to go in and take out the heavy-hitting monsters.

Precisely the challenge Erec hoped for.

“They’re moving.” Dame Robin’s voice took a sharp, commanding tone. Erec’s eyes snapped to the battlefield. Sure enough, the Silent Ones had begun their advance. Their hate radiated in waves—or perhaps he only felt it since he knew that’s what the Stag must have in its heart. But it was almost palpable as the emotion rung throughout the air, that familiar condemnation. It would tear apart any man or woman that opposed it and then spit in the face of the Goddess.

War had begun.