Being 15 miles away, the sentries of [Rivacheg] didn’t see the glow of burning tents over the sporadic outcrops of evergreen trees, but on a night eerie for its dead silence, the sound of a single Horseman’s hooves was the same as thunder to the squad of Sword Sisters who first noticed its approach.

On this cloudless night that was lit by a bright full moon, the Sword Sisters sat on a wooden watchtower, and shouted at the rider: “Halt!”

Nearing the wooden wall without seeming to slow down, 3 Sisters trained their Hunting Crossbows on the figure, they would shoot first and ask questions later without hesitation.

“HALT!” shouted the leader, giving one final warning, but just as she was about to order her squad to fire, the rider looked up slightly before falling off his horse.

Startled by the sight, the night watch leader could clearly see that there were 2 figures which had been on the horse, and obviously they were hurt.

As the night had been deathly quiet, she didn’t think twice and began to ring a metallic bell, alerting the other sentries and, just like that, [Rivacheg] started to stir like a force of nature that could not move instantly but would be impossible to stop once it started.

Hearing the bells from his central tent, Peter was among the first people to wake up.

Not panicked or even feeling anxious, he really didn’t even think about what the alarm could be for.

Because as soon as he opened his eyes, he saw very clearly.

[Vaegir Marksmen – -35]

[Vaegir Horsemen – -3]

[Vaegir Footmen – -175]

[Huntress – -125]

And his blood turned to ice.

Taking his time, but moving swiftly at the same time, he put on his low-level armor and attached his Heavy Throwing Axes and Kettle Helmet to his belt.

Since he hadn’t any Plate armor or complicated gear, the process of arming himself took perhaps 3 minutes in total, and in that time, sounds of the camp stirring to life could be heard from every direction.

Finally picking up his 2-Handed Great Axe, the wood felt hard and cold under his touch, and slinging it over his shoulder, he walked outside.

Knowing the number of losses thanks to the [Mount and Blade] System, Peter was in a rare position and able to appear more formidable than what he was.

After all, even though he had grown up living a rough life in Boston, in the end, it was still ‘just’ Boston.

No matter where a person lived on modern Earth, they would simply not be prepared with the skills needed to lead hundreds of professional soldiers and Knights onto the battlefield.

Peter himself knew how supply chains worked, but besides that, he had naturally been reliant on his advisors – primarily Professor Helsing – to make fundamental decisions on governmental matters.

But he had to say, over the last several weeks he had been a quick study.

He knew it had to be the [Super Soldier Serum], because when he learned something, he simply didn’t forget it.

This new quirk of his was there in every aspect of life, everything from how to wield his Great Axe, how to throw axes, how to ride a horse, or even how to judge the depth of a road’s substructure.

He also had never forgotten a single face – including the many Trolls that he had killed!

Walking out of his tent, the first man he saw was 1 of the 12 advisors and called over loudly he said: “Khavel! On my orders! Go inform the day patrol that they are to stand as night sentries!”

Getting a quick stumble, and then ‘Aye, my Lord!’ the Advisor ran off, calling over different people as he ran.

Then Peter saw another person, a Huntress who seemed to be smart enough to rally as soon as the alarms bells sounded.

“Katia! On my orders! Go to the western wall and inform the Knights and Sisters on watch to meet me at the front gate as soon as their replacements arrive!”

Calling one person after another Peter had messengers going helter-skelter, he ordered them to inform the night watch to assemble, he called for people to prepare the warhorses, he put Professor Helsing in charge of Rivacheg in his absence, and had another runner find Father Anderson.

The last order turned out to be unnecessary, as when Peter reached the gate Father Anderson was there in his battle robes and carrying an unconscious Alayen in his arms.

And behind him were several Sword Sisters who were lifting up the Horseman Marcin.

Seeing them both hurt, a look crossed Peters face which the priest didn’t miss, and with a reassuring smile, and with a reassuring tone, Anderson said: “It’s all right Peter, it looks bad because they’ve lost a lot of blood, but it clotted well enough, so they will live.”

Nodding his head to this, Peter was thankful but instead of saying so, said firmly: “Mazen was attacked, try to see if you can wake either of them up for information about the attackers.

In the meantime, I’m leading the Sentries over. Will you join us?”

Of course, under normal circumstances Peter would need information about the attackers first or he’d risk running into an overwhelming force.

However, this basic rule of warfare wouldn’t apply to a person who could directly [Recruit] professional soldiers directly to the battlefield.

[Current Denar – 128,284]

That alone equaled to almost 600 Knights, or almost 700 [Rank 5] soldiers, either of which would be absolutely deadly in combination with the 180 Knights and Sword Sisters he was bringing.

“How many are alive?” responded Anderson who was still holding Alayen as he walked to the medical tent.

And not hiding the information, Peter said curtly: “Just over a 100, everyone else is dead.”

Hearing this, the priests footsteps faltered slightly, but collecting himself in front of the people surrounding them, he smiled again and answered: “Aye, Lord Ivankov I will come. For, how can a flock be left without it’s shepherd?”

Nodding his head to this, Peter hurried to the stables and mounted a Steppe Charger.

After the battle with the Greenskins they had roughly 85 surviving horses whose riders had been killed but they themselves were strong enough to keep.

Naturally, those horses which had been severely wounded were turned into food…

From the time that the Sword Sisters first sounded the alarm, to when Peter was sitting in front of his Calvary at the gate of Rivacheg, barely 25 minutes had passed.

To outfit a Knight or Sword Sister would take 20 minutes even if they had helpers. No doubt steel armor was worth the effort, but no one could ever claim it to be convenient.

Simply put, this level of preparedness would have been simply impossible if not for the sentries being fully armored while on duty.

Looking over a force of 120 Knights and 60 Sword Sisters, Peter spoke loud enough for the entire group – as well as dozens upon dozens of onlookers.

“Soldiers of Rivacheg, heed my call! The wicked, under the cover of darkness, have dared to attack us!”

Letting this sink in, besides the breath of the horses not a sound was made, and Peter continued: “They have attacked us like cowards under the cover on night, but they have underestimated the steel in our hearts and the might of our arms!

Pausing for another brief second, Peter eyed the armored figures around him and said firmly: “In the future, it is likely that these villains will encroach upon our lands again.

But though they will come, it is our valor, our unity, and our unyielding determination that will shatter their schemes and crush their sinister ambitions!”

Saying this, Peter’s horse kicked up and he shouted: “In this hour, I stand here and make my vow to you all!

No matter what, no matter where, no matter against whom, if so-much as a single guiltless member of our people are taken or harm is inflicted upon them, I will not rest until justice is served!”

Finishing this statement, the entire area burst into roars of praise and approval, then shouting even louder, Peter hollered over the din of cheers: “And no price is too high!

So, now I ride to Mazen, and I ask you, soldiers of Rivacheg, who will follow me?!”

Nobody knew who started it, but one by one, the Knights and Sword Sisters began rhythmically pounding their breast plates with their right gauntlets.

The sound of metal beating on metal took precedent over the shouts for revenge and with his eyes narrowed Peter directly turned his horse around and headed in the direction of Mazen.

Not pushing the horses at full gallop, Peter had learned enough to know that it would be impossible for a horse to run at full speed for 15 miles without being exhausted afterwards.

So, mixing his mounts speed between a trot and canter, it took the Calvary just over an hour to cover 15 miles whilst still having their horses strong enough to do battle.

Somewhere during that time, Father Anderson had caught up with them and following just a few steps behind Peter, he too led the march.

The night was clear, and with the full moon there was no need for torches, however, it was apparent to all that a strange green tint had started to color the surroundings.

“I smell Chaos…” muttered the Priest, and Peter even glanced back at him because he had been feeling something too.

By now, the scourges and dangers of ‘Chaos’ had been roughly described to them by their Dwarven guest, and rightfully infuriated that such demons could so openly influence mankind, Anderson spoke loud enough for the surroundings to hear: “Fear not! We shall cleanse this land, and in doing so dispel the foul taint that festers here. Restoring it to the light of God's grace!”

After the priest said this there was no ‘Oo-Ra’ from the Calvary, but when their hearts hardened, it seemed to Peter that the full moon shined a little brighter, and the green tint lessened just a little bit.

It wasn’t long until Mazen was clearly in view, and the embers acted like a beacon.

Naturally, once they were only a couple miles away it was the Sword Sisters who broke off into groups of 30 each, using the speed of their Coursers they started scouting around the settlement ahead of the main army.

******************************************************************

Wiping his chest and licking the blood off his hand, [Sigwulf] had come down from the ecstasy of battle.

Though he had been hit twice by arrows shot at close range Karnath had favored him and, with that favor, he killed 12 of the most formidable soft-hands in the settlement.

Then after plundering as much as he could, he took his main prize which were 4 Thralls – 3 female and 1 male – and though he walked around with them in chains, he didn’t plan on keeping them for long.

He planned on bringing them to his personal altar and sacrificing them to the Karnath.

‘Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Skull Throne!’ he thought to himself and barely even winced when a hot poker was plunged into the arrow hole on the left side of his chest.

The losses in the battle were surprising, but tolerable, and made his achievements that much greater.

Out of a force of 280 Marauders they had lost 40 men and more than thrice that number had been wounded!

Although the Aesling people were taught from birth to look down on those tribesmen who allowed themselves to be killed, to lose so many in a night raid was a serious blow to their leaders reputation!

And not just Sigwulf, but dozens of men were side-eying the man leading the expedition, wondering if they could challenge him and get more glory for themselves.

Some even whispered that he had allowed the leader of the settlement to escape from right under his own hands!

But whether that was true or not, Sigwulf didn’t care about it now.

After a successful raid, it was common to offer sacrifice by ritually mutilating their victims.

Everyone would take part in this ritual mutilation, and it would forever mark dead so that even in the afterlife they would be seen as tributes to Karnath.

Wiping the seeping blood from his other wound, Sigwulf thought: ‘Let’em roam the Blood Plains for eternity, the rat bastard!’

Though all tribes had members who used the bow for most Marauders, who naturally followed Karnath, ranged weapons were openly distained.

And the man who had done the most harm to Sigwulf was an archer who shot off 2 arrows in 3 breaths of time.

With his wounds tended to, Sigwulf inspected the area devoutly, making sure the skulls were stacked at just the right height – all while dragging along his Thralls – until the horn to fall back to the ships was heard.

By now, it had been roughly an hour since the fall of the settlement, and walking back to their longships hadn’t been rushed.

Like always, the Thralls were beaten badly before being stripped naked and thrown onboard the ships first.

The men were always treated worse than the women, at least initially, and were made to man the oars despite already being on deaths doorstep.

Once the preparations were done and the Thralls were loaded, some crews began to talk whether or not to strike out on their own or form smaller fleets to go raiding further south, but for Sigwulfs ship they directly set sail for home.

They were the first to set sail.

These waters were dangerous, but except for large Greenskin raiding parties, a group of trolls, or a rare family of manticores, few nightmares would deliberately target a precession of Aesling long ships.

Having sailed a short distance away from shore, Sigwulf whipped his man-Thrall in order to row faster, but something called for him to look back.

Then, there standing on the deck of his ship, the Aesling Marauder saw in the near distance a line of what looked like horsemen.

Then he heard a roar of pure rage that carried over the waves and hit him directly in his heart.

Was it fear? Impossible.

Sigwulf did not feel fear.

But… looking at the figure leading the Calvary charge down to the beach, Sigwulf didn’t see a ‘man’.

Sigwulf saw Karnath.