Blades of Ironclaw (Part 2)

"Golden troops, prepare for a swift attack!" At his command, Aldrich squinted his eyes to discern the target in the meager torchlight. There were approximately twenty people on the left side of the fort.

"Fire!"

The battle raged on as Paul instructed his archers to fire repeatedly, each arrow carrying a burning determination. Nevertheless, Paul soon realized that their assaults had limited impact. In response, the defenders unleashed a volley of arrows, showering the area indiscriminately. Despite their best efforts, the Aldrich archers struggled due to the lack of sufficient light, which affected their accuracy.

The sounds of battle crescendoed as the Aldrich troops advanced, their arrows falling like an unrelenting tempest.

As the Aldrich troops drew nearer, they began to target the city walls with their arrows. The Heirs of Leaf's archers responded in kind, but it soon became evident that their defensive tactics were inadequate.

Aldrich had successfully diverted the archers' attention, realizing that it was time for Taran to take action. Taran, infamous for his icy demeanor, led his contingent, armed with two gate smashers, toward the imposing main gate that safeguarded IronClaw City. Turning to his troops, he wore a menacing grin that sent their adrenaline surging.

"It's our moment! Let's consume them!"

Taran and his troops sprinted toward the gate, their hearts pounding. They eagerly carried the castle's two gate crushers, colossal weapons designed to breach fortified barriers, ready to unleash their destructive power.

As Taran's troops positioned themselves for the assault, Paul, observing from atop the defensive wall, spotted the imminent threat. With a keen eye, he assessed the situation and swiftly devised a counter-strategy. Recognizing the destructive potential of the castle gate's destroyers, he understood the vital importance of defending the gate.

"Those of you in the middle, focus on them! Guard the city gate from above!"

Paul issued orders to some of his archers stationed in the center of the fortress, urging them to rain a barrage of arrows upon the advancing Taran troops. The archers aimed, their bows taut, and unleashed a deadly volley of projectiles at the approaching threat. Arrows soared through the air, seeking their targets with unerring precision.

"Prepare the Iron Liquid now, they're closing in!"

In addition to the arrow fire, Paul ordered the deployment of the hot liquid iron sprinklers. These strategically placed devices held reservoirs of scalding molten iron, intended to be released upon any force attempting to breach the gates. The defenders remained on high alert, ready to activate the molten iron sprinklers at a moment's notice. Paul realized that his troops wouldn't be able to shoot if the demolition force reached the gate first.

From above, the Taran army resembled a turtle, steadily advancing with archers relentlessly releasing a barrage of arrows. Their targets remained exposed, as they attempted to disrupt the enemy's march despite the Taran shields successfully keeping them at bay. Tension on the battlefield mounted, with both sides acutely aware of the pivotal moment awaiting them.

"Just a bit further, my friends!" Taran shouted.

"This is dire, Captain," remarked one of his soldiers.

"Look up, my friend, and at your own face. Your grin would give a lion pause," Taran quipped, eliciting laughter from his troops.

Taran peered out from amidst their shields; the situation appeared secure.

"Let us advance! They are running low on arrows!" Taran commanded as they broke formation. They covered the distance swiftly, reaching the gate after just ten steps. The gate featured twin doors, constructed from sturdy wood and encased in thick iron.

They promptly formed four rows, leaving the middle two rows intentionally vacant for the Battering Ram carrier.

The gate-destroying apparatus consisted of iron-coated logs with pointed ends reinforced with steel. Five individuals bore the battering ram.

They retreated into position, awaiting the signal from their leader.

"Destroy!" Taran ordered.

Instantly, they thrust the rams together.

BRAK!!!

Meanwhile, two rows on either side stood vigilant, watching for potential threats and hazards.

Relentlessly, they continued to pound the crusher, attempting to breach the gate. However, suddenly, four soldiers in the front row cried out.

"Aargghhh!!!"

"It's hot!!!"

Taran was taken aback as he witnessed molten iron raining down from above. His troops hastily dispersed, seeking cover. Taran discerned the source of the molten liquid; two large holes adorned the top of the gate. He quickly assessed the situation.

"Reform the turtle formation! Protect the bearer of the battering ram!"

The formation was designed to shield the person carrying the gate destroyer from the relentless onslaught from above.

As the troops swiftly reorganized into the formation and advanced once more, they inadvertently trod upon the lifeless bodies of their fallen comrades near the gate. Their corpses were visibly encased in hardened iron.

They made another attempt.

BRAK!!! BRAK!!!

Repeatedly, they endured scorching blasts aimed at the openings intentionally created to obstruct the gate destroyers. The molten liquid hissed and crackled upon impact with shields and the ground, releasing tendrils of steam into the air.

The soldiers raised their shields high, forming an impenetrable barrier against the molten iron. They huddled closely together, their shields overlapping, offering much-needed protection against the scorching liquid.

However, despite their best efforts, some of the searing liquid managed to breach the gaps in the shields, causing suffering and torment among the troops. The intense heat inflicted burns on those unfortunate enough to be exposed, testing their endurance and resolve.

The relentless onslaught of the molten liquid made their progress arduous, their formation resembling that of a turtle, making it difficult to breathe due to the tightly packed shields. Not to mention the rising temperature due to the vapor from the molten iron.

"Hold on, isn't this what you've all been waiting for?" Taran, positioned in the center row, shouted as he rammed the gate destroyer.

"Are you blind? We were all just grinning," replied one of the soldiers, followed by shouts of joy from the others.

Their determination and loyalty to their leader propelled them forward, their focus fixed on the ultimate goal of breaching the gates and achieving victory. Taran, undeterred by the challenges they faced, encouraged his troops to endure the torment and press on.

***

Eran, who had earlier distanced himself from the main group, found himself positioned on the outskirts of the tumultuous battlefield, not a great distance from the camp's location. It appeared that a considerable number of Lonewolves had been engaged in this perilous mission, having already ventured forth into the fray. Their ultimate fate, whether they emerged from the chaos alive or succumbed to the perils, was a matter of destiny.

Upon concluding his analysis and identifying an opportune moment amidst the bedlam of battle, Eran rose from his concealed vantage point. He gave his buttocks a reassuring pat, adjusted the black cloth that enveloped his neck to conceal his mouth and nose, and gradually unveiled the hood that had been fastened to his cloak. As the hood retreated, it allowed his obsidian hair to cascade in the wind. Eran was garbed entirely in black, an attire chosen to blend seamlessly with the shroud of darkness that currently enveloped the surroundings. Only his crimson eyes remained discernible, lending an eerie contrast to his shadowy visage.

He moved nimbly through the concealment of shadows, slipping past both comrades and adversaries alike. It seemed that Theo's forces had aligned themselves with Aldrich and Taran's troops in this alliance. Regaining his focus and deftly evading the volleys of arrows that whizzed perilously close, Eran charted a course toward the far left flank of the formidable castle fortress.

Arriving at his designated destination, Eran took a few cautious steps back, clutching the dagger securely in both hands. With a measured inhalation, he embarked on his ascent, scaling the towering, ten-meter-high fortress wall with a remarkable blend of swiftness and agility. Employing his daggers as makeshift footholds, he masterfully leveraged these implements to facilitate his upward progression, ensuring a secure grip in the crevices between the rocky surface.

Upon reaching the summit, Eran cautiously lowered his body, finding refuge at the very precipice of the towering wall.

Taking a moment to assess the situation, Eran surveyed his surroundings keenly. Positioned not far from where Eran sought refuge, he noted the presence of approximately twenty archers engrossed in their target practice, oblivious to his stealthy presence.

With a deliberate gaze, Eran scoured the terrain in search of their leader, his eyes tracing a path to the far right of the fortress where he eventually spotted Paul, deep in strategic contemplation upon the fortress wall. This fortuitous circumstance afforded Eran the freedom to proceed with his actions, albeit temporarily, until Paul's awareness was aroused.

Seizing the opportune instant, Eran acted swiftly and silently, launching an assault on the group of archers that blended seamlessly with the enshrouding darkness, his every movement devoid of audible disruption.

One of the archers, closest to Eran, detected a sudden chill against his neck. Before he could react, a dagger had stealthily punctured his throat.

Without hesitation, Eran proceeded to dispatch the next warrior, his dagger expertly finding its mark in the warrior's throat, all executed with nimble precision. Eran continued his relentless pursuit, methodically eliminating the remaining archers on the left flank.

Amidst the ensuing chaos, Eran discerned the presence of coiled ropes tethering the fort. In an impulsive act, he hurled three of these ropes beyond the fort's confines.

Theo, vigilant in monitoring Eran's movements, grasped the signal's significance. He swiftly commanded his group to ascend the ropes propelled by Eran, exploiting the newly created opportunity by the Lone Wolf's discreet infiltration.

However, as Eran cast the ropes, the three archers remaining on the left side finally caught wind of his presence.

"Intruder!" one of the archers bellowed, his exclamation ringing out. Unbeknownst to them, Eran had already materialized before them, twin daggers poised. He thrust them into the archer's chest, then deftly retracted the lethal instruments, crimson blood spurting forth, bespattering the Lone Wolf in the process.

*****