Blades of Ironclaw

As the mist began to obscure visibility, the stage was set for the impending assault. The weight of responsibility bore down on General Aldrich's shoulders as he cast a nervous glance toward Theo and Taran. Their reassuring smiles served as a reminder to maintain composure amid the impending chaos. The troops marched in silence, their apprehensions gradually giving way to the aspiration for victory.

He glanced back once more and nodded confidently.

"To the honor of the hunter!" Aldrich declared, reciting the motto of the Berallin Kingdom. Then, he bolstered his resolve with a deep breath.

"ATTACK!!!" Aldrich's voice pierced the crisp air, signaling the commencement of the assault.

The once-silent surroundings were abruptly shattered by the increasingly raucous din of approaching footsteps, accompanied by resounding voices and cries.

Stones quivered upon the ground, and their ears reverberated with the clamor of oncoming footfalls. Encouraging shouts and the clash of weapons against shields filled the air.

In the midst of the field, troops formed a formidable blockade across the access road, standing in a tightly-knit formation. On either side of the troops lay imposing natural iron rock walls.

Aldrich's troop of hunter-gatherers, armed with bows and arrows, advanced in unison at the vanguard.

Meanwhile, behind Aldrich's forces, Theo's troops split into two distinct groups, each with a specific mission. The first group, under Theo's direct command, rushed to aid Aldrich in combatting the formidable IronClaw army, which served as a formidable barrier at the city gates.

The second group, led by Kain the pathfinder and accompanied by Gorstag the barbarian, embarked on a perilous mission. Their objective was to locate and infiltrate the underground entrance to the city, situated beyond the city walls. Guided by Kain's expertise in navigating uncharted terrain, the group broke away, their footsteps echoing in the darkness as they journeyed toward the concealed gate.

Meanwhile, Taran de Sirens and his troops formed the rear of the formation. Armed with a castle gate crusher, they intended to breach the imposing main gate guarding IronClaw City.

Aldrich, newly appointed as general, felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He tightened his grip on his bow, his heart pounding in his chest, and then signaled for his hunting troops to halt. With a single stretch of his hand, an arrow shot overhead, finding its mark with deadly precision.

In unison, they advanced, their movements smooth and synchronized, akin to a well-oiled machine. The initial volley of arrows soared through the air, raining down upon the IronClaw troops. The sky grew visibly darker as the relentless barrage of deadly projectiles found their targets, resulting in a cacophonous clanking as arrowheads met shields and armor. The unyielding storm of arrows continued to disrupt their formation, causing it to tighten even further.

"Theo, now!" Aldrich shouted.

Simultaneously, following the prearranged tactics, Theo and his troops surged forward, seizing the opportunity presented by Aldrich's long-range attack. They charged with determination, intent on engaging Ironclaw's forces in close combat.

Theo himself dashed towards the Ironclaw troops who stood in a steadfast phalanx defense formation, their shields providing comprehensive protection and their spears poised to strike at Theo's men.

As they neared the IronClaw troops, it appeared that a small gap had opened. Suddenly, as Theo and his troops closed within a meter, a spear shot forth from the gap. Theo adeptly evaded it, and a clash ensued between the two forces. Theo quickly sought openings to evade the spears, with his men following suit. They exerted force on their shields to disrupt the phalanx formation.

"Spearmen!! Shield your eyes!" Theo urgently warned.

Amidst the chaos, some of Theo's unprepared troops fell victim to the spears, while those who survived continued to push forward and assail the iron-clad soldiers' shields.

This situation compelled the defenders to focus on safeguarding themselves against arrows aimed at their upper bodies and the relentless pushes from Theo's troops.

"Taneaya, Uldor, now."

They broke away upon Theo's command. Climbing over the bodies of those nearby, the two of them ran above the clamor by stepping on anyone's head, then using their feet to leap onto the stacked shields. They both jumped with slight emphasis on their feet, occasionally thrusting at the gaps in the shields faltering from above.

"Taneaya, you go first," said Uldor, who appeared to be evading spear thrusts emerging from below. He stood above the phalanx formation, stabbing his sword into the gaps of the formation.

Agile like a dancer, the Blade Dancer Taneaya had already maneuvered behind the formation. She spotted the exposed backs at the rear of the line and wasted no time, swiftly moving to the right side of the formation, her two thin swords slashing through the line. Her movements were both graceful and agile, their beauty concealing the brutality of her actions. Taneaya continued her advance toward the left side, decapitating those unfortunate enough to be in her path.

Their formation began to scatter, creating significant distance between its members. At the front, Theo wasted no time, seizing the opportunity to stab and slash at the increasingly widening gap.

"Catallina!" Theo called out.

Catallina nodded, followed by ten individuals who readied their bows and loaded them with ten arrows each.

"Fire!" Catallina commanded.

The close quarters amplified the pressure, and the barrage of arrows forced the front formation to disperse.

"Attack!" Theo bellowed.

They seized the opportunity with unwavering determination. Their defenses lay in tatters, paving the way for open combat. The Ironclaws cast aside their spears and shields, opting instead for sarisa.

The clash of swords and the resounding echo of sarisa filled the air as Theo's troops met the Ironclaws head-on. The two armies engaged in a brutal dance of skill and power. Each swing, every strike, and every thrust bore the mark of precision and lethal intent.

Theo fought with calculated aggression, his movements characterized by fluidity and purpose. He anticipated enemy attacks, promptly parrying and countering with devastating slashes and stabs. His presence on the battlefield served as an inspiration, emboldening his troops to fight without fear. Eventually, they managed to corral the IronClaw's forces to the left, creating an opening for the other troops to advance. Aldrich's troops, followed closely by Taran's, made a determined push through the breach.

Meanwhile, atop the battlements, Paul, who had been observing the battle, grasped the dire situation. In the dim light, he discerned two groups advancing through the breach on the left, which had been carved by the destruction of the barrier troops. Paul had foreseen the impending defeat of his army. He paused for a moment, bowing his head in a final salute to the fallen barrier soldiers. Even in the face of defeat, they had chosen to stand their ground, fighting with unwavering tenacity, none of them retreating.

"Prepare your arrows!"

Paul's voice resounded with conviction and determination, rallying his troops to stand tall against the impending threat. The archers tightened their grip on their bows, their eyes trained to spot the approaching enemy.

"Hold," Paul commanded, his gaze fixed on the two groups of troops that were becoming increasingly visible. He deliberately waited for the moment when they would be within the torchlight's reflection atop the fort. Their numbers became clearer with each passing moment.

"Fire!"

Paul ordered the archers to release a volley of arrows at the advancing enemy. The arrows, shot with deadly speed from the bows, streaked across the sky, cutting through the dark night air with astonishing precision. The arrows found their mark with chilling accuracy, filling the air with screams and cries of pain as the enemy was caught off guard.

"Stop! Do not advance! Hold your ground!" Chaos erupted among the front ranks of Aldrich's army as they faced the unexpected attack.

Panic surged within Aldrich. He had come perilously close to death, with the deadly threat narrowly missing him by a few inches. Blood from his left forehead obscured his vision, his heart raced, and sweat poured from his brow. All he yearned for in that moment was escape.

SLAP!!!

A slap jolted him awake, as though his very life had been forcibly pulled back into his body. He adjusted his gaze, and his ears reacquainted themselves with the faint sounds around him. He could see Taran in front of him, urgently calling his name.

"Aldrich! Aldrich! Wake up, you fool!" In no time, Aldrich snapped out of his reverie.

"I... yes... sorry..." Before he could complete his sentence, Taran interrupted.

"Impart the order to your soldiers: counter the attack. Remember, this is your strategy!" Taran snapped.

With this realization, Aldrich rose from his seat and readied his crossbow.

"Golden troops, prepare for a swift assault!" Following his command, Aldrich narrowed his eyes, identifying the target in the limited torchlight. To the left side of the fort, there were approximately twenty individuals.

"Fire!"

*****