Chapter 57

Mage Knight

 

Coalition Side

When the attack never came, the Coalition looked up to Lord Jorge, who in turn, recalled Morton for counsel. A messenger hurriedly summoned the Black Knight Captain.

Sir Morton and his men returned to his master’s side. He had barely knelt when one of the staff explained the situation to him. “The enemy crossbowmen are to our right and their men-at-arms are to our front. That only leaves us with the route to our left.”

Morton nodded but said nothing as he calmly observed the enemy’s barricade.

“I know a route exists. I used to hunt here,” said Lord Jorge bitterly. “Alas, the path is narrow and treacherous. We can’t possibly proceed in armor.”

Nobody said anything. To escape without their horses and armor wasn’t even an option. First, they would be hard-pressed to escape Lansius’ cavalry when they reached the plains. But more importantly, to do so would get them ridiculed and shamed for the rest of their lives.

Jorge was shivering, not from fear, but from rage. His earlier composure was gone. He couldn’t believe that he had been tricked this badly.

In less than an hour, more than one hundred knights and a similar number of cavalrymen had been reduced to a mere mob. The reputation of anyone involved in this was in ruins.

With a forced smile, Jorge turned to his captain and suggested, “Hey, Morton, why don’t we just storm the blockade?”

Morton pretended he didn’t hear it. Despite the jovial tone, he knew that the young Lord was looking for a heroic death at this point. The Black Knight Captain usually tried to distract his Lord, but he was too preoccupied with looking for a way out.

Just as he was assessing the situation, a sudden warning echoed through the forest. Almost instantly, several spots were engulfed in blasts of green fog.

“A green fog!” one of the squires on the lookout warned.

And then screams began to echo inside the forest. Droves of men emerged from their hiding places in complete agony.

“Alchemist! They employed an alchemist,” one of the knights cried as they abandoned their positions.

“It’s just a fog. It’s a trick, it can’t harm you,” someone tried to warn, to no avail, in between immense coughing and sneezing.

Several knights and mercenaries panicked, running from fear of the unknown. The rest stayed put, either unable to make a decision or just adamant to stand their ground.

The green fog spread out, its green hue faded as it covered more ground, but the hope of it being less lethal proved to be wrong. The fog seeped into armor and helmet, then almost instantly caused tremendous pain to its victims.

The eyes and nostrils immediately felt a burning sensation. But the worst was the throat and lungs; as they breathed in, it felt like they were being filled with molten metal.

Everyone in the area of effect either collapsed from choking or was left shriveling and writhing uncontrollably.

The forest was filled with screams and wailing.

Morton had chanted his barrier. A blast of wind centered around Lord Jorge. He had tried to enlarge it to cover a larger area, but he could barely protect an area the size of a small hut.

Soon, everyone outside of Morton’s barrier was engulfed by the green miasma.

The Black Knights knew they were being flushed out from their hiding position. In desperation, fueled by the insane pain, the best of Jorge’s knights charged through the green mist. As expected, many were greeted by a hail of bolts.

Several stumbled, and a few fell outright, but some reached the Korelian lines. Led by their lieutenant, they swung their swords fearlessly against the wall of pikes and hurled their armored bodies against the Korelian ranks.

The Korelian formation stood firm, but more and more Black Knights arrived and went berserk. They chopped left and right without regard for themselves. The Korelians took out three more knights, but more quickly filled the gap their comrades had created with their blood.

Another two, then ten knights reached the line. Despite injuries and death, they pushed back the Korelians, who swiftly withdrew behind their barricades. The knights fought madly and stormed the barricades before suddenly bursting into flame.

“The alchemist!” the lieutenant warned their comrades.

Even from a distance, Morton took notice. The green fog had dissipated and his Lord was safe. “With me, with me!” he roared to call the rest of his knights.

The last of his men gathered alongside Morton and launched a fresh assault on the Korelian barricade. Bolts rained down on them, but this time those were deflected away by an unseen barrier.

The barrier lasted but a few seconds, as Morton needed to strengthen his muscles. Yet that brief moment of protection was enough for his men to reach the enemy’s ranks.

With a wide, sweeping swing, Morton parried a wave of brandished pikes aimed at him and then leaped over the barricade. Every knight had been trained for this maneuver since their squire days, but the way Morton executed it was something else entirely.

Without losing a beat, the Knight Captain swung his sword vertically into a man’s shoulder. He cut so deep that the victim knelt in a fountain of blood. Just like that, he created a foothold behind the barricade.

With hearts full of pride, the Black Knights closest to Morton jumped over and fought savagely. More and more Korelians fell under the slash and thrust of their weapons.

As the center of attention, Morton readily blocked attacks with his gauntlet and pauldron. However, he wasn’t on the defensive. He stole an opening and swung his broadsword against two men. Using both hands, the large broadsword flashed.

Red blood sprayed the scene while his opponent screamed after he had just lost an arm. The other was thrown back with severed ringmail and cracked ribs.

Fearful but enraged, four Korelians thrust their polearms in unison at Morton, but he blocked and parried with strength and stamina that was beyond belief.

Out of the blue, an object was thrown at Morton, but he instinctively swatted it away using the flat edge of his sword.

A distinct sound of glass being crushed was heard and then the object burst into flame a few meters away. Searing hot fumes could be felt through the visor and halted the fighting as many cowered from the sudden heat.

The Alchemist stared at Morton in disbelief. The Mage-Knight was as terrifying as the ancient dwarven golems he once had encountered.

The remaining Coalition poured at the barricade with renewed fervor despite heavy resistance from the Korelian crossbowmen. With the famed Sir Morton on the offensive and the effect of the green miasma wearing off without a trace, they were riding the wave.

The Korelian line was quickly turning into shambles.

 

***

 

Calub

The small clearing inside the forest had turned into a battlefield. The Korelians were desperately using their wooden barricade for defense. Their crossbowmen now fired from point-blank range, and many resorted to hatchets to defend themselves.

But as hard as they tried, it was impossible to plug the breach.

I’ve made a mistake...

Calub clutched the composite cords of his slinger. The green miasma he had launched to break the enemy’s spirit had unintentionally galvanized their resolve instead. Now, the Coalition was out for blood.

Faced with the relentless advance of the Black Knights, the Korelian line had stretched, straining to contain the enemy.

“Maester, the men won’t hold!” his lieutenant warned.

Calub didn’t need anyone to tell him what he could see for himself. The bloodied Mage Knight was advancing straight toward them. “Get the windlass guys,” he commanded.

The lieutenant immediately ran to fetch the arbalesters, but the situation was deteriorating.

Calub had no knights because Lansius didn’t want anyone to disobey Calub’s order. Now, all he had was his men-at-arms. They tried their hardest but were no match for the Black Knights, especially not against the Mage Knight.

Calub had prepared well and even expected a Mage Knight or two to make an appearance. But this one in black armor was unstoppable. Not even a fire grenade was effective.

“Maester,” his men warned as the Mage Knight roared and battled his way into their position.

Clad in only his brigandine and jacket, Calub clenched his poleaxe. “No retreat,” he said sternly to his men, who nodded nervously.

His redeployed arbalesters finally had a clear line of sight and sniped at the Mage Knight from two locations. One shot barely missed, while the other glanced and struck another Black Knight.

The Mage Knight wasn’t harmed, but the attack had bought some breathing time for Calub’s men. As the Mage Knight redeployed his barrier, he reached out for a metal flask inside his jacket.

Fire grenades wouldn’t work against that barrier, but this...

Calub's gloved fingers could feel the coldness from the special alloy.

Suddenly, a commotion was heard from the Coalition’s side.

“The enemy cavalry—” a squire shouted. He was clearly out of breath from running. “Their cavalry is on our rear!”

His high-pitched warning was heard by everyone. Both sides paused as the situation became uncertain. Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of hooves echoed through the woods, confirming what the squire had said.

The Korelians’ cavalry had returned.

Calub drew his hand back from the metal flask and shouted, “The Lord has returned. Steadfast, men! Give it everything you’ve got!” He rallied his remaining troops.

The Korelians clamored. “For Korelia! Blood for blood!”

The barricade held on.

 

***

 

The Coalition

Morton was out of time. His small contingent couldn’t afford to get flanked, especially by heavy cavalry. Any advantage they had would be undone. “Fall back,” he commanded bitterly, stepping back while maintaining his barrier.

“Fall back, I said,” he bellowed, frustrated as his men disregarded the command.

The knights grumbled but started to disengage. At this range, without their Captain’s barrier, the enemy crossbows would surely kill.

However, they were too late. The sound of splintering wood heralded the arrival of Lansius’ cavalry. Two mercenaries, stragglers who had split from the main force, were unceremoniously hurled aside, never to see daylight again. The surviving Nicopolans dashed towards the forest, desperately trying to avoid the cavalry’s lances.

More than fifty Coalition knights were still locked in combat. For some, the sudden appearance of the cavalry and their failure to break through proved too much. They began to drop their weapons and bitterly surrender.

Yet, the remaining knights fought on, haunted by the fear that the new Lord of Korelia would slaughter them instead of taking them hostage, as the outcome of the battle was yet to be decided.

Morton’s lieutenant had caught up and asked in a ragged breath, “What should we do now?”

“There’s no other way. Gather everyone with polearms and try to block the cavalry,” ordered Morton, picking a spot to make a stand.

“There’s little chance we can hold out,” the lieutenant argued.

“If the cavalry cuts us off, then everything is doomed,” Morton remarked. They needed time for the rest of their forces to disengage and flee.

The lieutenant turned from Morton and gathered everyone within sight. Only eleven answered the order. Thirsty and exhausted, only honor kept them going.

Suddenly, Jorge’s squire appeared and handed Morton his crossbow.

“You shouldn’t be here, boy,” Morton warned him.

“Eh, nobody should be here, sir,” the squire retorted wittily. The answer drew nervous chuckles from the ranks as they assumed a wall of spear formation against the cavalry. Due to their inadequate size, it looked more like a hedgehog in the middle of a dirt road.

Morton loaded his bolt, took several steps forward, and picked a target with the best-looking armor. He fired at the incoming cavalry from sixty paces away.

His bolt deflected off the foremost rider’s pauldron, but now Morton had the rider’s attention. He calmly pulled his crossbow string with just one hand as if it was a small bow.

The cavalry approached their small formation. Now, it was clear that the entire Korelian cavalry was present. This demoralized the Coalition’s side. On foot, exhausted, and greatly outnumbered, one by one, they left the Black Knight’s Captain and ran toward the forest.

Not everyone had planned to die that day, and Morton’s wall of spears crumbled. But Morton had expected this to happen. Now, only he and a few of the bravest stood unperturbed. The ground shook from thundering hooves of the incoming warhorses.

It was less than twenty paces when Morton fired his second bolt.

Thuck!!

A dull sound resonated. Morton discarded his crossbow and leaped to the side. His small line behind either fought or ducked away as the first wave of four warhorses charged through them. It was unnerving even for a seasoned knight like Morton.

He coughed from the dust, looked back, and saw that the Korelian first wave that went past them seemed unharmed. He assumed the bolt hadn’t penetrated deep enough, but the rider with the gorgeous-looking armor started to wobble and eventually fell from his horse.

There was no time for celebration as the rest of the cavalry bore down on them. Unfazed, Morton drew his broadsword.

A glance to his right revealed his lieutenant, bloodied and limping, retreating from the scene. The man had traded blows with a rider and had come out defeated. Another lay mangled on the ground, likely lanced and trampled.

He counted only five remained standing. Raising his voice, he shouted, “Their sacrifice will not be in vain!”

“To the bitter end!” his comrades, both old and young, responded as the cavalry bore down on them. The horses’ nostrils flared like those of demonic beasts and their hooves shook the ground.

Morton clenched his broadsword. Magic had enhanced his lungs, heart, and muscles, staving off exhaustion, but he knew even that had a limit.

Morton shouted his war cry in defiance and dashed to intercept another rider with impressive-looking armor. From the start, his goal was to strike one of the Korelian’s leaders, or the Lord himself.

A moment later, his sword and the rider’s lance clashed.

 

***