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Published at 23rd of April 2024 12:48:37 PM


Chapter 317

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“Enjoy what little time you all have, because soon your heads will appear in a similar box,” said Knight Bartram, before the undead turned and rode away.
 
“Close the box,” I said after taking a last look at my boss’s head.
 
Strangely, I am not feeling any grief, not even the slightest. Instead, there is relief. I felt free, like a shackle that had been holding me, had been removed.
 
I did what I needed to in these past two days, but there was always the thought of Count Darrow and the consequences he might bring, at the back of my mind.
 
Now that he is dead, there is no such fear.
 
As for Lancel and Prince Grelt. I don’t fear Lancel, I know him enough that I will be able to control him. If he is still alive. 
 
The Prince, I am least worried about him. He is far too busy fighting for the throne to focus enough on this little city. With enough time. I am confident, I will be able to smoothen up any displeasure he has toward me.
 
Mage Ravill closed the box and sent it down. I don’t care where he puts it. I will care about it after I survive the undead.
 
Hun!
 
Suddenly, a change occurred in the horde; it began to separate.
 
‘They are going to attack the different parts of the city,’ I thought, seeing the separation. It made my face tightened. Stone had said, it would be good for us if the whole horde attacked at a single point.
 
The undead seemed to think that too; it is why they are separating. The undead have an absolute advantage, but despite that, they are taking things strategically.
 
“Separate,” ordered Stone and immediately, the army began to separate.
 
In a few seconds, the horde separated into three equal parts of fifty-thousand undead. Each one-for-one city gate. 
 
The undead horde is dangerous, but the ones leading it are the most dangerous. It is them, we will have to kill to survive.
 
As the horde separated; a lone figure came out.
 
The man is cladded in dark green enchanted armor and riding a big skeletal horse. That horse is a killing machine in itself and will be more dangerous to deal with the rider.
 
He Knight Bartram; the real one. Commander of the horde.
 
He stopped in front of the horde and stared at us. He didn’t say anything and stayed there when his lips parted in a smile and the people from each separate horde; two from each part and they stopped in front of their respective horde.
 
Seeing them, my whole body shook. Even Stone’s expressionless face had changed.
 
It was not just us, but everyone on the wall shook seeing those figures. They understand what they are and how bad it is for us.
 
“Seven Level 30+, we are dead,” said Mage Ravill with a shaking voice. “Calm down, Mage Ravill,” I said, with my voice coming down surprisingly even, considering I was feeling more scared than the man.
 
We had expected four or even five Level 30+ powerhouses, but there are seven of them. They will bury us alive. The small advantages we had in the numbers of pre-level 30 have disappeared.
 
It was not an advantage if one looked at the horde. They had brought seven 30+, then there might also be far more pre-level 30 than we had already expected.
 
Seeing it is already six, it might not even take them nine to capture the city.
 
I pushed those thoughts away as soon as they appeared.
 
Yes, the condition is bad, but so what? It is not like there is any other option in front of us. Whether we surrender or fight, the outcome will be the same, but with fighting, we at least have a chance. 
 
A small one but still a chance.
 
I looked at the six people behind the Knight. Except for two, we have the information on everybody.
 
I looked at the two standing in front of the middle part of the horde. The first one is a lich wearing a grey robe. It is the same unknown Lich, that the merchant state had informed us about. 
 
The one beside him is a man in his early thirties, wearing black light armor and a rapier at his waist. 
 
He is Nev Heartpeak, the battle fencer.
 
The left part of the horde also had two people in front of them. First is a beautiful blond middle-aged woman, wearing a violet mage robe.
 
She is Necromancer Esalya.
 
Beside her is a man who looks to be in his late forties, wearing a blue-mage robe and has a staff in his hand with muddy black crystal. I tried to remember any information about him, but found none.
 
I turned my eyes to two people standing in front of the right horde.
 
First is the woman, who looked to be in her early thirties, with dark brown hair. She had grey armor covering her and a long sword at her back.
 
Klia Lowgust; is a warrior who could cast spells, but she is not a spell blade.
 
Beside her is an elf, who looks to be in his late twenties. He is a man who could be beautiful, with vibrant green eyes and long forest green hair.
 
Athtar Zylna; necromancer. He is a real sadist according to his information.
 
All of them aside from the unknown lich and man wearing blue mage robes are verified Level 30 and above but below Level 35. Vris’alud didn’t need to send those above Lv. 35 to fight.
 
What they had sent, is already more than enough.
 
“It is one tough horde,” I said with a laugh. I don’t know why I laughed; it just came out. “All battles I had on the island; no horde of this size had over five Level 30+ leading them,” he replied.
 
“Then we should feel honored,” I said, and he smiled.
 
I didn’t ask him, about our chances against the horde. It is a useless question when there is no option but to fight.
 
“Charge!”
 
Knight Bartram roared the command after more than a minute of silence. His voice was so loud, the entire city had heard it.
 
With his command, the whole horde moved. It is the middle horde that came toward us, with Knight Bartram leading them, while the left and right ones moved toward the eastern and southern gates.
 
Seeing that, I turned and walked down from the wall at record speed and appeared in front of the army waiting behind the gate.
 
The other two armies also moved toward their destination. Lt. Commander Azalea will fight from the eastern gate, while Hugo will lead the defense of the southern gate.
 
Both of them seemed unlikely choices to lead, with Lt. Commander Azalea, never fought undead at such a large scale, while not many people knew Hugo, but Stone selected them.
 
They are capable, but there are other reasons besides that. Lt. Commander Azalea is from the army. The army needs at least one of its own to lead. While Hugo is experienced. He had fought more battles against the undead, than even Stone.
 
“Are you sure, you want to do it, Lord Governor?” I asked Stone. It is not the first time; he has asked me the question. 
 
I could feel the eyes, of the army on me. They might not have heard the question, but they are looking at me. 
 
“Everyone needs to do their part to defend the city, including me,” I replied. He clearly wanted to object and did so many times, but this time, he just sighed and turned to the gates.
 
“Open the gates,” he commanded and immediately, the gates opened, and I could see the undead coming toward us in tide, with more than six times our numbers.
 
Seeing the scene, I saw many soldiers taking a step back momentarily. Even the orcs shook before controlling their emotions.
 
I looked at the people and saw not only humans but also the orcs and the elf. The man beside me is a young orc with the pinkish skin. He looked uncomfortable as other orcs around him.
 
The man had been an outcast and never fought in a group, but he is strong and thus got the place, despite objection from the orcs.
 
Hun!
 
As were waiting for the command, Shaman Trik came with a bronze censor in his hands and ash paint across his body.
 
The censor is releasing a thick aromatic smoke, which is spreading across the entire army. Some people looked uncomfortable with it, but they bore it.
 
I looked at the bluish smoke and saw it lingering around our bodies; I could feel it was doing something, but the effects were too abstract. 
 
Soon, another shaman appeared in front of me. He is a short grey orc, who looked to be in his late forties and holding a bowl of yellow paint with herbs mixed in it.
 
“Governor,” said Shaman Krema and put paint across my temple and arms. It felt cold and uncomfortable, as I had never experienced things like this, but I didn’t resist and let the shaman do his job.
 
A few other shamans came and did their magic.
 
We need all the enhancement we can for this battle, and shamanic magic is powerful. It is more abstract than normal spells, but just as effective or even more in some conditions.
 
It is quite regretful that these Shamans are willing to share their magic with humans, but not their own. Aside from the Shaman Trik, no shaman had shared their magic with the young albino orc beside me.
 
Trik only did it because there was no choice, given the type of spell he cast, which covered thousands, excluding a single wouldn’t have been possible.
 
I wish I could do something, but currently, I can’t. It took quite an effort and some threats to let the young orc join the battle.
 
The orcs spread across all three armies and also their shamans. The same with the mercenaries and volunteers; Stone had decided to mix all to create a force that augmented the weakness they had of never working with one another.
 
We also have twelve pre-level 30 powerhouses. It will be up to them, not only to engage with the other pre-level 30 but also against the three levels 30+.
 
It will be extremely dangerous, but they will have to do it. There is no other choice; we do not have any Level 30+ powerhouses to fight against them directly.

An.

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