Chapter 125 - Homeland (Patreon)

<---Chapter 124 - Path of Blood | Table of Contents | Chapter 126 - Stall--->

The dark night sky twinkled with foreign stars, the air calm and peaceful as a mother and her young son walked carefully along a stream, watching each step to make sure they didn't trip. A melodious tune humming through the wind piqued the son's interest, noticing that the mother was singing a song while she carried a basket laden with foraged mushrooms and fruits. "Mom, what's that song you're singing?"

"Silly boy, I already taught you last week during the festival!"

"Really? I only remember trying to catch toads in the pond. That man was cheating!"

"Cheating or not, the fact is that you lost!" The mother rubbed her son's hair playfully. "And a man of Ocra never loses, not until death."

"I'm not a man, I'm a boy now! A boy of Ocra!" The son declared loudly, patting his own chest.

"You'll forever be my boy, but someday, you're going to have to grow up. And then, maybe you'll remember this song."

"I still don't know the song!"

"The land itself sings it. Open your ears, and you will hear it." The mother stooped and lifted her son up onto her shoulders. "Listen! Our homeland has been singing for generations and will sing for generations to come."

The rolling fields dotted with village lights in the distance, along with the lazy floating of fireflies, made the view a utopia in heaven. The boy was about to protest that he could not hear anything, until he could suddenly hear it, the words clear as day to him, ringing in his ears.

Where ambitions meet the horizon, the hearts of men roar like lions.

Where the land and forest stand tall, the spirits of men shall not fall.

Oh, Ocra, our sweet homeland. Oh, Ocra, fortune toiled by hand.

Where the wind rushes through the fields, the strength of men shall be filled.

Where the birds and toads sing, the valor of men shall ring.

Oh, Ocra, we fought to the last. Oh, Ocra, until death do we rest.

"PRIVATE MASIR!" A jolting shout shook Masir out of his dream, his mouth drooling on the rifle that he clutched dearly as he leaned against the muddy slippery walls of his trench. He looked up to the sky, seeing a few tendrils of dark clouds drifting over, their beads of water beginning to rasp against the shoddy metallic helmet with a clear resonating thud.

"PRIVATE MASIR! PICK UP THE DAMN PACE!" A heavy-handed slap from a sergeant smacked him right in the back of his helmet, the dull shock rattling his head slightly. "What the fuck are you staring idly at the sky for? Those Yual Dominion dogs aren't going to wait all day! Keep shoring up those fortifications!"

The rough jagged wooden surface of his makeshift spade reminded him what he was supposed to do. He shook his own head, ridding himself of his childhood memories before focusing his attention back onto the trench that he was deep in, a half dug out rectangular shape extension that poked out beyond the defensive line.

This isn't a shell scrape - this is my grave. The defensive hole meant to provide cover to them was no different from the other conscripts in his platoon, all digging a similar-sized hole, equally spaced around a fort situated on a hill. The slope had some of the mud slip downwards, filling up a few unfortunate holes that had just been dug up. Masir knew he was on the frontlines - they were right on the border of the twenty-kilometer-long buffer zone, marked by military forts that had been built up over the last few months in preparation for an attack by Raktor.

Yet, instead of an improved fortification meant to stall the enemy approaching, the faces of despair and resignation on the conscripts digging away under the booming dark clouds began to make the place look more and more like a cemetery.

Masir Grimaced as he dug again, his already sore arms' burning intensely as he struggled to continue shoveling. He grabbed every chance to take a break in between, acting like he was shoveling whenever a Versian sergeant walked past to inspect the progress.

"MOVE FASTER! Those Yual dogs could be here any minute. Every piece of mud and rock you can put between you and them will buy us time to launch a counterattack, and end tyranny once and for all!" The sergeant hollered at the conscripts, making Masir wonder if the Versian sergeant truly believed his own words or if he was just spouting military orders.

The failure of the first strike by the Versian Army was clear as day to everyone in the army. No one believed the flyers, the radio interviews, or even the visit by President Mornero to Ocra, proclaiming the invulnerability of its defenses. Just two weeks ago at the Grand Exhibition, they were saying our armed forces were stronger than ever!

Regardless, the failure of the battle had the government amp up the recruitment significantly, with more and more men and women, some even bordering on fifty years of age, being drafted up and boosting the garrison of Ocra. Many of them tried to run, but just like Masir, they were captured and forced to fight on the frontline.

"ROTATE! 513 Third Platoon; you're up!"

An order rang out, which only meant one thing to Masir’s tired, famished body. Lunch. He shambled with the rest of his nine-man squad towards the trench behind, shuffling their feet through the tight corners where other soldiers were still digging out emplacements for cannons and mortars and placing makeshift wooden fortifications.

The fort around which the trenches were surrounding had a mess hall where there were already metal tins filled with what Masir could only call ‘slop’, but it was what he looked forward to every day. The men in his squad sat down in silence, eating the slop by drinking directly from the tin.

“Hey, give that back!” A young recruit wailed from another table as his own squad member stole his tin of slop.

“Fuck off, you scrawny twat. The food is wasted on you – I’ll do a much better job of fighting than you ever will!”

Masir’s eyes squinted in recognition, knowing that the kid was from Ocra as well. “Anyone recognize the other guy?” He muttered to his squad members, all of whom were part of his original gang. They had all been subjugated once by Kyle and Culo, and a second time by Nest, enslaved to fight.

“No, boss.” Despite the obvious fall from power, the members were still loyal to the boss. Ocra boys stick together. Shrugging off the obvious muscle ache in his body, Masir stood up and walked over to the unrecognized soldier, who was still laughing as he ate happily from the young recruit’s tin.

With a swift grab, Masir slammed the head of the soldier into the tin, the corrugated edges of the tin jabbing right into the eyes as the soldier screamed out in pain, his face a mixture of gushing blood and slop with gravy.

Immediately, the other members of the squad attacked and stood up in anger. “Hey, fuckface! You think you’re-“

Without warning, Masir punched the closest one right in the face and kicked him right in the nuts, crumpling him to the floor. “Come on, you twats!”

The mess hall broke out into a fight, with the two sides of the rowdy brawl mostly being Ocra residents versus Versians from other towns conscripted to fight at the frontlines. The sergeants and military police soon came in to break out the fight, but they did not arrest anyone. There was no time for that – the Yual Dominion was right on the doorstep; they needed every soldier they could get their hands on.

“BREAK IT UP! ANYONE STILL FIGHTING WILL HAVE FRONT-ROW SEATS TO THE ATTACK ONCE IT HAPPENS!” The sergeants threatened, immediately causing the other Versians to stop fighting. No one wanted to face the full brunt of Count Leon’s forces, reminding them of the impending dread and fighting that was about to break out.

Masir spat out a glob of blood on the ground as he nursed a bruised cheek with an icepack, walking out of the mess hall. The sky was already half covered in grey clouds, the scattered water droplets increasing in number.

His squad walked back in silence, gripping their muskets tightly as their boots trudged through the trenches, moving past arctech repeater emplacements. “Are they really going to attack?” One of Masir’s squad members couldn’t help muttering, the tension gnawing away at his heart. “The weather is pretty bad – maybe we’ll get one or two more days.”

“Don’t count on it.” Masir shook his head as he slumped against the wall of the trench, staring at the sky. “We attacked first and lost. They are definitely coming for Ocra.”

“How the hell are we going to fend them off with just our muskets?!” Another squad member complained. "They only gave a third of us rifles!"

Masir didn’t know the answer to that either. Repeaters were already in the military, and they could not mass produce enough to equip all the soldiers. Only the regulars got them, and Masir’s squad was far from being one. It was his connections and relationships with some of the local sergeants that even managed to get some rifles.

Hours passed, the tension among the trenches beginning to build significantly. As Masir continued his tasks of digging and expanding the trenches, he began to notice more and more squads being called to the front-line trenches. Tacit nods between those he recognizes as locals, showing that something strange is going on.

"Master, there are too many people here. And look, they are setting up the point defense turret!" One of his squad members pointed to a machine behind placed in the center of a dug-out hole connected to the trenches, a simple large plate complete with engravings that were aimed right at the sky, drawing arcite fuel greedily from surrounding fuel packs that were covered haphazardly under scrap metal to prevent unwanted explosions.

Masir didn't have the chance to respond, the conversation cut short by a single sergeant walking briskly through the trenches, shouting at the countless conscripts all lined up along the trenches. "This is where the Yual Dominion forces will be held. We shall not give them a single village, a single city, nay, not even a single inch!"

The motivational speech has started – it means the enemy is approaching.

“The dogs of the emperor think they can subjugate the Versian spirit; well, we shall make them think twice! It is here that they shall be turned back! For Versia!” The sergeant continued his speech, shouting as dull thuds in the distance began to go off.

“For Versia!” The soldiers chanted back softly, their eyes wary and looking towards the skies for signs of anything happening. The rumbling sound of dull thuds began to increase in frequency.

“That’s all you got? Scream with all your might! Today, you live as men of Versia – as free as the day you were born. FOR VERSIA!”

“FOR VERSIA!”

“FOR VERSIA!” The sergeant screamed once more, his face nearly red.

“FOR VERSIA!”

“That’s what I like to hear! Now hold this ground unt-“

The growing rumbling sound turned into a high-pitched whistle, a single mortar projectile hitting the sergeant right in the face, the tip crushing his nose bridge before exploding into a brilliant explosion, the resulting fragments lodging themselves in the nearby conscripts. A fountain of dirt kicked up by the explosion began to pelt Masir's face as the burnt body of the sergeant was blown to bits, along with an arm of a nearby conscript being caught in the blast, turned into a scorched stump as his wailing screams were drowned out by the incoming barrage of mortar projectiles.

"GET DOWN!" Masir bellowed, himself taking cover and hugging the wall of the trenches while mortar fire assualted their position, throwing mud and dirt everywhere while the rain began to pick up in intensity.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR? ACTIVATE THE POINT DEFENCE SYSTEM!” Masir roared at a stunned soldier who was still standing in shock. Instead of waiting for the guy to shake out of his stupor, Masir crawled over through the trench to him, shoving him aside and working the point defense turret.

Activating the machine, the flat plate jutted out towards the sky, the engravings on it glowing green. With a rapid pulsing sound, the point defense projectiles screeched toward the incoming mortar strikes, causing them to explode in midair as they were intercepted.

The billowing smoke of interceptions filled the horizon as fragments fell from the sky; burning pieces of magnesium and iron sprinkled the trenches all along the defense line, countless attacks being launched in unison. Masir rushed back to the front-facing wall of the trench with his squad, all of them already propped up and aiming their muskets and rifles at the front.

He glanced at the strewn body parts of the former sergeant, noticing the arctech repeater had survived the blast. Dusting away the strings of flesh and dirt coating it, he hefted it, realizing that with the death of his sergeant, the platoon was in clear panic and shambles, with no one to coordinate them.

“Squad 1, man that fucking mounted repeater!” Masir bellowed out, earning a few confused stares from the squad. “What the hell are you waiting for?! YOU NEED A SERGEANT TO TELL YOU HOW TO FIGHT?! MOVE!”

The squad didn't argue any longer, kicking into action while the green projectiles from the point defense turrets streaked across the skies, the dark clouds perforated by the bolts as they tried to intercept the increasing barrage of mortars.

“Squad 2, get on the communication radios and get ready to call out targets for the artillery crew!” Masir continued giving out orders, unwilling to die.“Squad 3 and 4, shore up the frontline! Get all those ammo boxes opened and ready; I want non-stop fire, you hear me?!” Like hell I am going to die in this war! I still got a grudge to settle with that damn Ghost!

The mortar barrage ceased as abruptly as it began, and the Yual Dominion forces were no longer testing the point defense capabilities of the trenches. Instead, a low rumbling sound could be heard, the tremors spreading through the ground violently, shaking the loose dirt, rubble, and mud.

"I don't want to die, I don't want to die, I don't want to die!" A young conscript cowered, clutching his helmet as he curled up into the corner, his eyes stricken with fear. Others were equally terrified, most of them stunned by the sudden mortar barrage that threw them off.

Masir walked up to the young conscript, grabbing him by the shoulder and shaking him violently. "Kid, you're a man of Ocra now! A man of Ocra doesn't surrender till death! Whatever comes, we can handle it. Ocra boys stick together, ya hear?!” Masir roared, trying to raise the morale. The other soldiers around clenched their fists in agreement, steeling their hearts for what's to come.

“Until death do we rest!" Some of the Ocra conscripts chanted back, wide grins on their faces.

“HERE THEY COME!” A spotter in Squad 1 yelled.

From beyond the trenches through the spare forest that surrounded Ocra, Masir could spot a few specks of metal in the tree line. “HOLD YOUR FIRE! WAIT TILL THEY COME IN RANGE!”

Yet those specks of metal began to grow larger and larger; Masir’s eyes widened in disbelief. What the hell is that?

Out from the treeline burst forth five large metallic defensive barriers, seemingly pushed forward by a modified armored arctech wagon engine that rumbled on tracks. Yual Dominion arctech knights decked in Aspis MK1 armor jogged in synchronization with the speed of the defensive barrier, using it to shield themselves from the trench line.

A mounted repeater right on the top of the barrier fired with impunity, prompting the squad members in the trenches to take cover, the pellets singing above their flimsy helmets. One failed to take cover in time, earning a pellet that sheared through the side of his head, lobbing off an entire ear as he screamed in pain. Masir had no time to worry about him; the Yual forces were closer than ever.

“SQUAD 1, OPEN FIRE!” Masir ordered.

The machine gun burst into life, a hailstorm of pellets attacking the barrier shaped like a snow plow with a deafening roar. The barrier began to be pockmarked with holes as a few stray machine gun pellets managed to get through and hit the knights behind. The storm of pellets also knocked out the enemy machine gun mounted on the top of the barrier. However, it could not get through the thick armor plating that the Yual Dominion soldiers had as well.

Barrelling right towards the trench, the plow hit right into the trench, allowing the arctech knights that were attached to it to leap off and enter the trenches. Covered from head to toe in mud-camouflaged Aspis MK1 armor, the sight of the Yual knights induced fear and panic in the squads, prompting some of them to tremble and scream.

Before their flight or fight response could kick in, Masir was already ahead of them, attacking the nearest knight with an entire clip of the sergeant’s repeater. The flurry of pellets overwhelmed the knight’s point defense engraving as well as any composite layering the chest plate had, immediately denting the armor and eventually piercing through, riddling the knight with holes.

Masir gasped as his body began to feel the arcia exhaustion, the repeater's consumption taking a toll on his entire body. But his mind was focused on the fight, the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

Only the screams of fighting and the screeches of artillery fire could be heard through the rapid thumping of blood in his ears; his eyes locked onto the dead knight as he screamed with all his might.“FOR VERSIA!”

The assault began in earnest, hand-to-hand combat fighting erupting all along the trench line. Countless lives were lost in the first clashes as the Yual forces had better armor and equipment, all of them supplied by the Aspis Weapons Factory. Arctech knights were known to be the cream of the crop; their brutality and efficiency were well-known in past wars and skirmishes. Even Masir quivered a little when he saw how many arctech knights there were, a complete mismatch compared to his conscript squads.

Still, Masir held his ground, grunting as he blocked a bayonet strike from a Yual knight, the two of them brawling in the mud as the rain began to pick up, turning into a light drizzle. Pools mixed with blood and grime began to form on the floor, the contents splashing while the soldiers fought back hard, their morale buoyed by the bravery of Masir to attack the knights.

We need to hold them here – if they take down the point defense system and machine gun emplacement, they can breach the trenches! Masir delivered a kick to the Yual Knight, sending him stumbling back before following up with a body flip, sweeping the knight’s legs right under him.

The Yual Knight gagged as he fell onto the ground, with Masir immediately pinning him down. Each of his soldiers was engaged in their own brawl along the length of the trenches. For a brief moment in time, there was nothing else in the world for Masir, only the sole intention of killing the person right in front of him. Even the sounds of rain splattering and battle cries could not distract him from the knight. He grabbed a knife from his belt and stabbed it towards the knight’s neck through the seams of the armor.

The knight immediately grabbed Makoa's wrist, crushing it under the tight grip of the metal gauntlets. Makoa winced, but did not flinch nor let go of the pin. Instead, he forced his wounded wrist even further down, leveraging his body weight to drive the knight towards the neck.

The knife pierced the tip of the knight’s skin, causing him to fight even harder and throw punches at Masir’s waist. However, Masir had his knee on the knight’s other free arm, rendering the knight incapable of stopping it. His eyes flickered with fear as Masir roared, pressing the knife down with all his might.

With a sound barely audible over the dins of fighting and cannon fire, the knight choked on blood, the windpipes gurgling as he punched Masir repeatedly, each punch getting weaker as his brain began to lose focus and strength. Masir held the blade down true until the knight's arm finally relented, flopping down lifelessly.

His killing of the knight invigorated him and the other soldiers around him who saw him defeating the knight with his bare hands. Thankfully, the 'knights' that were attacking were actually normal Yual soldiers, also freshly trained from the military exercise and utilizing a reduced version of the Aspis MK1 armor.

Masir could barely stand up, the arcia exhaustion and the injuries suffered from the knight burdening his body. Every fiber of his being felt sluggish, his bones weak as he struggled to help his other soldiers, who were now embroiled in their own miniature battles. I must fight!

He pushed through the pain, joining the fight again through the trenches. The brave soldiers of his squad were taking on casualties, but not all of them were as apt at fighting as Masir was. Five knights left.

Masir glanced at his remaining squad, noticing an entire squad had already been killed. The knights were now pushing towards the mounted arctech repeater emplacement at the edge of the trench wall, trying to take it down.

They are the strike force – meant to take down the defense to allow the main force to proceed uninterrupted.

As he stepped towards the fight, he walked past Squad 3’s dead communications radio handler, his arctech radio blurting away.

[Section 4A suffering heavy damage! We can’t stop the plows!]

[513 First Platoon taking on casualties, we need reinforcements!]

[Roger that, new soldiers are being sent from the secondary defence trench. Fort is providing covering artillery fire, red zone, red zone!]

Just hold on – just hold on. Masir repeated to himself as he limped towards the knights, who were unaware of him behind him, assuming their allies had already killed him.

Gripping the bloodied knife in his left arm, Masir sneaked close enough before lifting the knife as high as he could, jabbing it down towards the neck of the knight from behind.

The knight moved at the last second, the knife instead piercing through a gap in the shoulder pauldron and causing the knight to shout in pain. With a retaliation swing, Masir was knocked right back onto the ground, his vision only seeing the dark clouds as rain dripped onto his face.

I have no strength left. Is this the end for me? Masir did not want to give up, but his exhausted body was hardly responding anymore, arcia exhaustion ravaging his internals.

The knight raised a repeater aimed right at Masir’s head when suddenly, the point defense system in the trenches fired a large green bolt in the sky.

However, there was no sound of interception; instead, an explosive projectile shot straight down from the top of the military fort and shredded the knight from head to toe like a corkscrew, his organs and flesh twisted into a mangled form before crumpling to the ground in an explosion of dirt.

The resulting barrage of projectiles easily tore through the armored defensive barriers, forcing the first assault wave of Yual knights to peter out, and the modified arctech wagons were forced to retreat or be destroyed entirely. A loud, deafening explosion blew up into a large ball of flame that thundered across the battlefield, a wagon's engine sparked by the direct hit of a projectile. The projectiles fired from the fort were extremely close to many of the Versian conscripts, some of the attacks almost nicking them.

"The artillery is helping us! FIGHT BACK! FIGHT BACK!" Masir roared, galvanizing the troops around for a counterattack. The Versians began to push back hard, capitalizing on the shaken senses and disarray of the Yual knights. With the help of the cannon fire and the outnumbering, knights in the trenches were easily isolated from further reinforcements, killed in a brutal brawl.

Masir's body collapsed, unable to move anymore when he was lifted up by his squad, dragged back into the military forts behind the defensive gate and barricades, where an overworked medic was already treating countless injured Versian soldiers. "Grab the damn potions from the other squad!" The medic ordered, directing his squad members to scavenge what was left of the fallen Squad 3. He stuffed a health potion down Masir's mouth, the minor healing effect restoring his body slightly, though Masir still suffered from arcia exhaustion.

“You need to recover. If we lose you, the whole platoon falls apart. You hear me?” The medic lightly slapped Masir’s cheeks, checking for signs of sentience. “I only got a few health potions, don’t make it a waste.”

“Sca-scavenge the knights…” Masir weakly mumbled.

“We’re already on it.”

The same event was happening all over the trench, with every platoon experiencing some sort of pinpoint artillery strike that saved them at the right moment.

[Good job artillery crew!] One of the sergeants complimented, but the fort's commander was enraged at the events of the battle, shouting at the confused artillery crew who were manning the cannons on the fort. “Who the hell fired at the trenches? I already ordered all of you not to fire on our own allies!”

"Sir, no one among us did! And even if we did, we would blow up the soldiers as well!"

"What?!" The fort commander tried to find out the truth, but despite all reports claiming that the shots were fired from the top of the fort, none of his cannons had the same level of accuracy that could precisely kill the Yual knights and their wagons.

"The Goddess is watching over us." A preacher of the Goddess Nona attached to the fort remarked, clasping his hands together in prayer. "An angel! Someone who defends Versia without need for thanks!"

"Whatever, this is our fortune! We should shore up our defenses now. Get our engineers out there now and repair them before the next wave comes!"

However, as the first wave of Yual knights began to peter out, the withering barrage of mortar strikes resumed once again, this time easily pounding the exposed areas of the trenches where the point defense turrets had been damaged, breaking the defense line open. With gaps now open in the trench line, another wave of modified arctech wagons featuring defensive barriers charged forward, easily entering the trenches through the opening and filtering through.

The fort commander didn't hesitate. "Aim all the cannons and fire at will, I want those wagons blown to pieces!"

While the Versian conscripts pushed forward in strength, the area was filled with the whizzing sounds of pellets from scorching hot arctech repeater barrels, the continuous streaks of green point defense arcia bolts and cannon balls fired with impunity, pounding the mud and dirt all around the battlefield.

The battle soon entered a stalemate, the fighting in the trenches beginning to die out while the second wave of Yual knights began to retreat once more, unable to withstand the fort's cannon fire.

"Hah! We got them on the run!" A sergeant cheered. "We should chase them down, form an attack group and push!"

"No, our orders from General Verian is to hold this damn line until - " The fort commander's word was caught in his throat as he couldn't believe his eyes at what he was seeing.

Instead of the usual large metallic defensive barriers, a new war machine emerged from the treeline, this time a fully armored arctech wagon bristling with weaponry, arctech repeaters, and a cannon mounted onto it while wheeled tracks dug through the mud easily, traversing the uneven battlefield while moving towards the fort.

Two Versian mounted arctech repeaters fired at it, but the armor deflected nearly everything, clearly being of better quality than the previously modified arctech wagons. The black armor glowed brightly with defensive engravings, resisting the torrent of repeater fire.

"Get the artillery crew to shoot it down, now!" The fort commander roared, a cannon aimed right at it and firing with impunity. The cannonball blew up as expected, billowing clouds of smoke enveloping the armored wagon, but to no apparent effect, the wagon still moving ahead as if it was just a tickle.

Versian conscripts on the ground tried to fire and use anything they could to sabotage the wagon, some even throwing rocks at the tracks, hoping to jam the wheels. However, the tracks were far too strong, at least seven arcite fuel packs churning away to provide the armored wagon the impetus to push along.

As soon as it approached the edge of the first trench, three nozzles emerged from the front, suddenly spewing out liquid flames that surged and roared through the trenches, flooding the muddy ground immediately. The conscripts who tried to stop the wagon nearby had no chance of outrunning the flood of fire, flesh melting off the bones in an instant.

"Fall back! Fall back!" The conscripts no longer had the will to hold the trenches in the face of such adversity, scrambling backward while those unfortunate enough to be locked onto were shot down by the swiveling mounted repeaters.

"Those things, those are the things General Verian warned us about!" The fort commander muttered under his breath, but the Versian army had not yet developed anything to counter this threat. "Prepare to retreat into the fort, and throw every cannon and explosive we have at it! We just have to hope that - huh?! The wagon is retreating!"

The confused Versian conscripts watched on in shock as they saw the advancing Yual knights and armored wagons retreat completely. "Sir, they are fleeing! We should give chase! If we can capture that armor, we will know how to crack it!"

However, the experienced fort commander did not agree, and his instincts told him otherwise. "The retreat is too suspicious. It is a trap! Wait for reports from our observers, and ensure that no one has intercepted it!"

However, a large boom resounded through the sparse forest, followed by a rapidly expanding ball of flame that spiraled up to the sky in a dazzling display, nearly overwhelming the gloomy sky like a spark of light.

Soon, the reports from observers came in. "Sir, the Yual dominion forces are being attacked by an unknown force, striking from Ocra!"

Confusion struck the general and officers, as they quickly radioed in all nearby military units. "Did our reinforcements from Tenar arrive that fast?!"

"No sir, they weren't supposed to come until a week later!"

However, they were not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, a wave of relief and smiles spreading through the camp. "Quickly, reclaim the first trench and set up defenses again! Hold out as long as it takes for our reinforcements to arrive!"

<---Chapter 124 - Path of Blood | Table of Contents | Chapter 126 - Stall--->