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Starting a Kingdom from a Baronetcy

The experience of being a baron in a remote corner of the world? Poor! Being poor is one thing, but having to face barbarian invasions with only a few dozen soldiers?! In addition, there's the inevitable internal strife and treacherous politicking among the nobility. Uncertainty in the leadership, internal and external crises. Noble infighting, regents consolidating power. Barbarian invasions from the north, peasant uprisings. Gods awakening, dragons resurrecting. If you don't want to die, climb! Climb higher!

Daoistl3nl2f · Geschichte
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85 Chs

Chapter 72: The Final Battle

As the horns sounded from three directions, a cavalry unit, previously hidden after luring the enemy, suddenly charged out of the dense forest. This was Gwynnis's scouting team. They swiftly emerged from the forest, throwing dozens of clay pots at the entrance of the battlefield formed by the deer antlers. With a crackling sound, the pots shattered, spilling fish oil all over the ground.

Before the Hafdan people could react, more pots were hurled until every horse-mounted soldier had exhausted their supply. In just a few seconds, hundreds of broken pots and the spilled fish oil completely covered the entrance of the battlefield.

Next, led by Cedys, several torches were thrown, landing on the fish oil. Instantly, fierce flames engulfed the entire entrance.

The Hafdan people's eyes widened in shock. Simultaneously, more people surged out of the surrounding bushes and low trees. They were refugees and slaves from Windermere, along with the elderly and women from Targas, numbering in the thousands.

The next moment, hundreds of clay pots rained down onto the battlefield, pelting the Hafdan soldiers' shield formation. As the pots shattered, the fish oil inside splashed over the Hafdan soldiers and dripped down onto the ground, creating pools of oil.

Wave after wave of pots were hurled into the battlefield. Large pots holding several liters of oil, small pots with just a few hundred milliliters, and even buckets of oil were poured in, as if giving the Hafdan soldiers an oil bath.

Although the battlefield was twenty meters wide, the villagers only needed to throw the pots ten meters to cover the entire area. Some elderly and women, lacking the strength to throw even the small pots ten meters, managed only six or seven meters, but the effect was already achieved.

As the Hafdan soldiers watched in horror, dozens of torches were thrown into the oil-soaked battlefield. The fire spread rapidly, engulfing the entire area.

The entire process of pouring oil and throwing pots took only a minute or two. To the Hafdan soldiers, the sudden emergence of the elderly, women, and children seemed insignificant at first, as if they were just adding numbers to their inevitable demise. Little did they know, they were about to face such a catastrophe.

The Hafdan soldiers in the middle of the battlefield didn't even see what was happening outside. They only saw pots falling from the sky, sticky stuff splashing on them, and then the world erupted in flames.

With the battlefield soaked in fish oil, the fire spread incredibly fast. In a few breaths, all the Hafdan soldiers on the field were engulfed.

Screams filled the air, people pushed and shoved, trying to climb over the deer antlers to escape. But with thousands of Hafdan soldiers trapped inside the deer antler enclosure, there was nowhere to run. Gwynnis had even hung transplanted thorns on the antlers, making them prickly to the touch.

Even with their iron will, the Hafdan soldiers couldn't escape the flames, even if they managed to climb over the antlers.

Cedys led his cavalry in a swift attack, spearing the Hafdan soldiers who were ablaze and rolling on the ground from horseback. Many more Hafdan soldiers were trapped in the center of the battlefield, unable to squeeze through the crowd, doomed to be roasted in the raging fire.

They cursed their comrades for not escaping faster to leave them room to flee. The deer antlers, barely one and a half meters high, had become an insurmountable barrier.

Moreover, most of the Hafdan soldiers lacked metal armor, many wearing leather or cloth armor, and some even came to battle just draped in fur. Drenched in fish oil, one can imagine how quickly the fire consumed them.

As the horns echoed, a previously unnoticed cavalry unit emerged from the dense forest. It was Gwynnis's scouting team. They dashed out of the forest and hurled dozens of clay pots filled with fish oil at the entrance of the battlefield formed by deer antlers. With a crackling sound, the pots shattered, and the oil spilled all over.

Before the Hafdan people could react, more pots were thrown, continuing until all the mounted soldiers had used up their supply. In a matter of seconds, the shattered pots had covered the entrance with fish oil.

Then, led by Cedys, numerous torches were thrown onto the oil-soaked ground. The fire instantly erupted, engulfing the entire entrance.

The Hafdan people were stunned. Meanwhile, more people emerged from the bushes and trees around the battlefield. These were refugees from Windermere and the elderly and women from Targas, numbering in the thousands. They threw hundreds of clay pots filled with fish oil onto the battlefield, drenching the Hafdan soldiers and the ground in oil.

More pots kept coming, large and small, and some even resorted to pouring buckets of oil, drenching the Hafdan soldiers as if giving them a bath in fish oil.

The Hafdan soldiers at the front of the line, forming the shield wall, were spared the oil bath. But the fire was spreading rapidly, and the situation drove them nearly to madness. They pushed forward in a desperate attempt to escape.

Facing the frantic last stand of the Hafdan people, Gwynnis took no chances. This was the final push. Stopping them here meant complete victory for Targas.

"Stop them!" Gwynnis shouted.

The conscript soldiers of Targas responded with the most ferocious roar they had ever made. "Don't retreat a single step!"

Their spears struck the Hafdan shields, heads, legs, feet, hands, and every possible point of attack. Everyone fought with all their might.

Finally, Broc, pierced by three spears, still clenched his teeth and broke through the spears with his axe, fighting his way into the ranks of the conscripts. Despite losing blood and growing weaker, he managed to carve a bloody path for his comrades before dying.

The spear formation of Targas was eventually breached, and the Hafdan soldiers poured through. But their triumph was short-lived as they saw their end waiting for them – Gwynnis and his final guards.

"Kill them all!" Gwynnis led the charge, his Ventaling sword cleaving through the skull, collarbone, and ribcage of the leading Hafdan soldier, cutting from head to belly.

"Kill!" Behind Gwynnis, dozens of figures armed with shields and swords surged forward, joining him in the final onslaught against the Hafdan people.