Chapter 52: Unexpected Encounter

"By the way, did the orcs see you leave? This is crucial!" Rynar quickly asked Vanervi. 

Since he could send dragon riders to scout, it wouldn't be surprising if the orcs had some means of long-range reconnaissance.

Rynar's only advantage at the moment was having the first move! 

Beyond that, he had no other strengths. 

Originally, the war could have been easier, but unfortunately, his sole war mage had to stay behind in Riverguard. 

The simple folk of Zaltarion were unwilling to leave their city, so someone had to stay to defend it, and Radir, skilled in mental detection, was the best choice for that task.

To be fair, old Radir's field combat abilities weren't as strong as his defensive skills. His heavy earth magic had few powerful spells aside from the forbidden ones.

"There shouldn't be… After all, we moved as soon as our sentinels spotted them. 

We were pretty quick! You know that the prairie elves are a wandering race…" Vanervi's voice was low. Wandering was the deepest pain for every prairie elf.

"I have a bad feeling about this… After all, with so many of you leaving, there must be some trace left behind," Rynar still felt uneasy.

"What did you do with the boats after crossing the river?" Reynard, riding alongside Rynar, suddenly chimed in.

"Uh…" Vanervi broke into a cold sweat. 

They hadn't sunk those wooden boats since they were too focused on escaping, but now those boats might have indicated to the orcs that they had been spotted.

"Looks like a surprise attack on the orc camp is out of the question," Reynard said helplessly. He never imagined that these usually meticulous elves would forget to cover their tracks.

"Never mind; I wasn't really counting on a surprise attack anyway. That was just an option," Rynar waved his hand, signaling Reynard to stop talking.

"Sorry…" Vanervi said, feeling ashamed. Perhaps this one action would lead to significant casualties for both armies in a few days.

"Forget it. You all were just trying to save your lives; who would think about those boats?" Rynar consoled him.

"Caslow, tell the infantry behind us to stop and rest!" Rynar looked at the sky and noticed the sun was setting in the west, painting the evening glow a bloody red on everyone's armor…

"Crackling!" 

That night, they camped on a mound. 

The light infantry's tower shields were driven into the ground, forming a semi-circular wall to block the wind. Everyone huddled behind the shield wall, lighting a campfire to keep warm. 

The knights kept their warhorses close, as the night on the plains was dangerous, and everyone remained armored.

"By the way, how did you equip the light infantry with tower shields?" Rynar just noticed that the light infantry wasn't holding dwarf iron shields but wooden tower shields edged with metal.

"After training, I found that wooden tower shields worked better for them. They weigh the same as the iron cross shields, but the defensive coverage is nearly doubled. 

This effectively improves the survival rate for the light infantry," Reynard said, chewing on hard black bread, sending crumbs flying.

"But these shields can't match the defense of iron shields!" Rynar still favored metal armor.

"Uh… You don't know their level? Simple, sturdy wooden tower shields are more suitable for them…" Reynard muttered quietly.

"True…" Rynar thought of their initial performance and felt a headache coming on. 

Unfortunately, they were the main force in this battle; only if they could withstand the orcs' counterattack would they have a chance to turn the tide.

"Caslow, Reynard, be honest with me. What's their current capability?" Rynar's face darkened.

"… At least they won't be deserters," Reynard said after a long pause.

"I really thank you… We can't get past the deserter issue, can we?" Rynar cried internally, tears streaming down his face.

"Ha ha, that's just wonderful," Rynar chuckled dryly.

"Vanervi, may I ask what professions your kin possess?" Rynar wanted to understand just how mixed the army under his command was.

"All of them are rangers!" Vanervi replied proudly.

"Slap!" Rynar slapped himself on the forehead.

 Doesn't the elf race have any proper frontline fighters? 

Aside from archers, they had rangers or mages; the only cavalry available were rangers and archers riding moon deer!

"Forget it; I'm just going to lie down!" Rynar took a deep breath and collapsed onto his blanket.

…

"System sign-in!" The first thing Rynar did upon opening his eyes was to sign in.

"Sign-in successful! Congratulations, host, you have obtained the Elven Holy Sword—Manikati!"

"Damn it! What use is an Elven holy sword to me?" Rynar thought. 

This thing was the holy sword of the elves; holding it was useless for him, as he could only use it as an ordinary weapon. 

In terms of sharpness, it was not much different from the Dragon Slayer sword, and he couldn't activate its powers. 

After all, only the power of the elves could wield this flame sword. 

For Rynar, it was just a useless item!

"Eh?" Rynar noticed that Vanervi's sword wasn't particularly impressive, and he quickly realized who this sword belonged to.

"By the way, Vanervi, this sword is for you. I hope it helps you," Rynar took the Manikati from the system space and handed it to Vanervi.

Vanervi raised an eyebrow. Wow, he can use space magic? He hadn't realized that this seemingly unremarkable lord had quite a power! 

After accepting the Manikati, Vanervi casually drew his long sword. 

The moment he infused it with battle energy, flames erupted along the blade, and a rich fire magic energy enveloped the sword.

"This is the holy sword of the elven race?" Vanervi's expression changed as he felt an instant connection with the sword.

"Yes! The Holy Sword of Flames—Manikati! I hope you like this gift," Rynar smiled. 

After all, he had no elves under his command; having this sword would only let it be wasted in his hands. It was better to give it to someone who could unleash its power.

"This is too precious…" Vanervi stopped channeling battle energy and reluctantly returned the sword to its sheath, handing it back to Rynar.

"It is indeed valuable, but it will only be wasted in my hands! If you feel guilty, just use it to slay a few more orcs in my name," Rynar gently pushed the sword back. 

With the impending great battle, every bit of power increase could impact the upcoming situation.

…

"We have a day and a half left! We'll reach the Redwater River soon!" Vanervi acted as the guide, holding the map as he spoke to Rynar.

"Everyone take a break! Tell the knight group in front to halt their scouting!" Rynar called out to the Battanian archers riding alongside him.

"My King! Not good!" Suddenly, clouds of dust billowed from afar. Rynar clearly saw Reynard leading the Knights, who was waving his arms and shouting.

"What's wrong?" Rynar grabbed Reynard's warhorse.

"Orc… orc army! They're… coming!" he panted, out of breath.

Rynar's army unexpectedly encountered the barbarian orcs led by Onavir! 

On this nameless wasteland, a war that would determine the fate of the North was about to unfold.

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