CHAPTER 248

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AERMIR WITH MOUNTAIN WARRIOR ARMOR and AXES

CHAPTER 248

296 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

The Valley of Arryn lay bathed in the golden hues of dusk, Alec stood atop a hillock, his eyes piercing the horizon where House Hunter and Upcliff forces approached with unwavering confidence. 

Alec's plan mirrored Aermir's strategy. An invisible army lay hidden within the depths of the forest, he wanted to strike at the mountain clans when the fighting was at its peak. He was full of anticipation. Each heartbeat resonated with his excitement, the air thick with the scent of damp earth. Today he was going to prove he was better than that stuck-up asshole Arron and add to the glory of his House. 

...

Eldric Hunter and Jarek Upcliff underestimated mountain clans too much and just charged at them without any tactics, meeting with great resistance when the infantry clashed. To redeem the situation, he reached a rush decision; he ordered the cavalry to charge. They were going to flank the mountain clans. They were on the plains, their own home turf; they would not be defensive and destroy those arrogant savages that dared to come here.

Eldric Hunter, leading the Vale charge, had no inkling of the perils beneath the deceptively calm grass. The rhythmic thud of hooves reverberated through the valley as knights, bedecked in polished armor and brandishing banners of House Hunter, pressed forward.

There were just a few hundred meters left between them, and the first sign of the trap emerged as the grass gave way beneath the hooves of the vanguard. Holes, masterfully concealed by Aermir's earth manipulation, wreaked havoc among the once-unified Vale cavalry. Horses stumbled, knights were thrown to the ground, and chaos erupted like wildfire.

Alec watched with a stoic gaze as the plan unfolded. The Valemen, now struggling to regain composure, found themselves thrust into disarray. The unseen trap had been sprung, and the mountain clans' archers, hidden amidst their shields, let loose a volley of arrows, adding to the Valemen's plight. All Alec could say was,

"Pathetic!"

He turned to his cavalry and said,

"Men! It is time we show them what it means to mess with us, and let's show other houses how real men fight!"

A clamor rose among his men, and they left their hill and started to enter into the forest. 

...

Eldric Hunter, a great, renowned knight, managed a controlled roll to escape the immediate danger. He didn't have any broken bones, but every spot on his body was hurting. His armor bore scratches and dents, and his mount bore the marks of a battlefield unseen. The horse was crying in pain as it bled from its broken leg. Eldric could see the bone sticking out of its flesh and skin like a spear.

Meanwhile, detachment forces emerged like vengeful spirits among the mountain clan ranks, striking at them at this moment. Their charge, though not wholly unexpected, added to the Valemen's confusion. Eldric felt like the earth itself was fighting against them.

Tormund The Bull, leader of the Howlers, clad in enchanted armor, led the mountain clans with unwavering resolve. His war hammer glimmered with a faint aura caused by its magical nature. The enchanted weapons and armor, a boon bestowed by Aermir's magic, mitigated losses, allowing the mountain clans to resist the Valemen's onslaught at the start of the battle but know it was their time to run wild.

The clash of steel, the cries of wounded men, and the tumultuous dance of battle painted a vivid picture across the valley. Eldric Hunter, now aware of the hidden dangers, bellowed orders to regroup and called a retreat for the cavalry and if they could hold on his infantry would catch up to them in minutes. 

At that moment, he witnessed a gleaming giant object coming towards him from the corner of his eyes. He raised his shield for defense, but the sheer force of the clash caused him to stumble back many steps; he almost fell but managed to get back his bearing. The clash caused a big dent in his shield. Tormund waved around his war hammer and made it almost impossible for Eldric to approach him. 

The enchanted weapons clashed with Vale steel. Once in a while, an enchanted armor or a weapon would burst into many fragments and wound or kill the people around them. Most of the time, those would be Valeman.

Tormund, a colossal figure with the bulk of Greatjon Umber and a wild mane of dirty blond hair cascading over his shoulders, wielded an enchanted war hammer that seemed almost playful in his mighty hands. After delivering his first blow he could press on as Eldric's men defended him. Tormund slayed them with two quick blows.

The war hammer, imbued with the Druid's magic, carried a weight reduction spell, deceiving Tormund's enemies with a deceptive speed. It danced in his hand with great ease while delivering crushing blows to those unfortunate enough to face its wrath.

Eldric Hunter, a knight of great prowess and stature, brandished his sword with skill, standing resolute behind his metal shield. The clash of steel echoed through the valley as Tormund swung his massive war hammer. Eldric, nimble despite the weight of his armor, deflected the blows with his shield, his sword dancing with grace against the relentless onslaught. 

The Vale knight fought valiantly, but the relentless barrage took its toll, fatigue settling into his bones. Tormund, fueled by the Druid's magic, had higher stamina than an average human and pressed forward with undying energy.

As the battle reached its climax, Eldric, wearied and battered, made a final stand. Tormund swung his war hammer with a mighty roar, the force of the blow crashing through Eldric's defenses. Eldric's shield couldn't take any more abuse and buckled under the weight of this strike. His arm was broken in great pain. He screamed, but at the same time, he was trying to keep his distance.

Tormund did not give him any time for respite and charged relentlessly. Eldric, without his shield, defenseless, fell to the ground, his body broken under Tormund's merciless assault. He released his last breath in great anguish. 

Tormund, the Bull chief of Howlers, stood amidst the aftermath, his war hammer dripping with the crimson essence of victory; he raised his war hammer to the skies and released a primal roar that shook the very core of every Valemen that heard it.

Every knight and soldier around them turned their attention to the scene. Tormund was standing on top of Eldric's corpse, and Eldric's lifeless form bore witness to the unforgiving dance between them, all broken and almost unrecognizable. Tormund shouted again,

"For the Old Gods, For the Druid!!!"

...

Aermir's meticulous preparation had turned the battlefield into an intricate web of hidden holes. The grassy terrain, seemingly untouched, concealed the peril that lay beneath. Aermir, channeling his mastery over the earth and plants, had manipulated the very ground they stood on. These holes, sized to fit a foot, were strategically scattered across the side where the larger Vale force would charge, creating a perilous obstacle for the unsuspecting cavalry and infantry.

With each misstep, legs were broken, and the once-coordinated assault devolved into disarray. The confusion and panic spread across the ranks as soldiers fell victim to the unexpected traps, turning the battlefield into a chaotic spectacle of pain and disorder.

Arron grappled with the question of how they managed to dig the holes without leaving any trace on the grass. The battlefield had transformed into a deceptive landscape, where the enemy lurked beneath the cover of seemingly undisturbed nature, and the Valemen were ensnared in this trap. If Aermir's men managed to push on one side, he would fix the ground and erase the holes. this way his men could charge without caring about the holes.