Chapter 78 - To Platinum City
The commander of Silver Wing Camp, Desli Paste, was the nephew of Duke Bonan, Fernandez Paste. However, his situation was quite different from that of Kimi Kontaou, the "nephew" of Archbishop Maitland Kontaou, or Henry Holovin, the nephew of His Majesty Leopold.
Different nephews, different fates.
Desli Paste was a legitimate but low-born son, a status often scorned in noble circles. His mother was a commoner maidservant. While his father was Duke Bonan's younger brother, they did not share the same mother. Furthermore, Desli had several older brothers above him.
Consequently, Desli received almost no favor from Duke Bonan; one could even say he was deliberately neglected. This was evident from his assignment to garrison the border at Silver Wing Camp on the eve of the Holy Grace Festival.
The month surrounding the Holy Grace Festival was the time of the heaviest snowstorms and coldest temperatures on the Duchy of Bonan's western border. None of the other members of the Paste family wanted the posting, so the duty fell upon Desli. Desli was a man of few words, taciturn and disinclined to argue. The first time he received this assignment, he didn't say much, thinking he could endure the disadvantage just once.
However, the result was that suffering a disadvantage once led to a second time, then a third, a fourth…
The Paste family seemed to have decided that this miserable task inherently belonged to Desli. Every year, when the snowstorms were at their worst, they dispatched him to Silver Wing Camp.
How could Desli not harbor resentment? He had served in the military since the age of fourteen, fighting countless campaigns for the Duchy of Bonan for decades. He was considered one of the most decorated generals within the Paste family, yet this was the treatment he received in return.
With resentment festering, his dedication to his duties waned. As heavy snow fell outside, Desli sat drinking with his captains around the stove. The captain who should have been out on patrol rotation was sitting right beside him, yet Desli said nothing.
Based on Desli's past experience, the tribespeople wouldn't raid in this weather anyway. The snow in the mountains was nearly waist-deep, making travel extremely difficult for them.
Just as the wine was warming them, Desli suddenly heard an explosive crash.
Years of experience on the battlefield kept Desli sharp. He snatched the knight's sword beside him and rushed to the window, just in time to see a watchtower collapsing spectacularly.
Desli sobered instantly. "Assemble the entire force! Prepare for battle!"
The captains immediately dispersed to summon their knights.
But it was too late.
Using the heavy snowfall as cover, the main force of the tribespeople had advanced to less than two hundred meters from Silver Wing Camp before being detected. The remaining distance was merely a single charge away.
After hurling their massive stone clubs, the front line of Hybrid Giants responsible for clearing the path let out a deafening roar and charged towards the camp, their massive feet pounding the earth.
Where the Hybrid Giants charged, the deep snow was forced aside, leaving clear paths in their wake. Behind them, other tribespeople warriors surged forward, following closely.
Countless black figures broke through the curtain of white snow, like enormous pythons slithering from their nests, lunging towards their prey.
Desli's breath caught in his throat.
How many tribespeople could there possibly be!
Usually, tribal raids consisted of individual tribes, numbering in the dozens, hundreds, or at most a few thousand. But the horde before him was a black tide stretching as far as the eye could see. This was far beyond the scale of a force numbering only in the thousands.
Why?
Why would an enemy force of this magnitude appear from the direction of the Kanpei Mountains?
Desli couldn't comprehend it, and the unfolding battle gave him no time to ponder the reasons.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!
One Hybrid Giant after another slammed into the camp's stockade wall.
The log palisade held for only a moment before collapsing with a groan!
Desli grabbed a round pendant hanging from his chest, put it to his lips, and blew hard. The pendant emitted a sharp, piercing sound, like an eagle's cry.
This was the device used by Griffin Knights of the Aolan Empire to summon their mounts. Each set contained two linked devices; blowing one would cause the other to sound as well. Usually, a trained Griffin could pinpoint its knight's location by this sound and quickly fly to their side.
However, this time, the Griffin that had been Desli's constant companion through thick and thin, his comrade in life and death, did not arrive immediately.
Desli instantly realized something was wrong with his Griffin.
If his own Griffin had encountered problems, could the others have escaped unscathed?
Desli scanned the skies but saw no Griffins taking flight. The answer was clear in his heart. Without their mounts, the Griffin Knights stood no chance against such a overwhelming number of enemies in a direct confrontation.
"Order all units: break out independently!"
Having given the command, Desli grabbed an iron spear. Five Wings of Light materialized behind him as he led his dozen personal guards charging towards a weaker point in the enemy lines.
Desli's personal guard consisted of elite soldiers he had handpicked over his years of service. They were highly skilled and coordinated flawlessly; several among them even manifested five Wings of Light.
The Five-Wing Sword Adepts formed a spearhead formation, simultaneously activating their Iron Wall defense. Illusory red flames flickered around them, spreading from their armor to their swords and spears.
"Haaaah!"
With a furious roar, the formation, led by Desli, crashed into the ranks of the tribespeople. They cut through the enemy line like a hot knife through butter, sending bodies flying.
Even in this dire crisis, the knights of the Duchy of Bonan displayed remarkable combat discipline and courage. Despite the camp being breached, they managed to gather in small groups, covering each other and fighting independently.
However, skill and bravery alone could not turn the tide. From the moment this battle erupted, its outcome was already sealed.
The Iron Wall defense had its limits. After charging for some time, Desli and his guards became bogged down in a desperate struggle.
Desli's spear pierced a scale-covered tribesman, lifting him high before slamming him back down onto the ground.
But the tribesman clung tightly to Desli's spear, flashing a grotesque, exaggerated grin. Fresh strands of flesh were visible between its jagged teeth.
Alarm bells screamed in Desli's mind. He immediately released the spear and drew the knight's sword from his waist. Just as he suspected, a short, swift tribesman had already darted in from the side. With a bellow, Desli's arm muscles bulged as he swung his sword. Empowered by incredible strength, the blow sliced the tribesman clean in half at the waist, spilling its innards onto the snow.
Yet, one of Desli's guards behind him wasn't so fortunate. Overwhelmed by the frenzied attackers, half his face was torn off by a goat-headed tribesman, exposing his tongue and eyeball.
Something's wrong! Wrong! Wrong…
The longer Desli fought, the more confused he became. These tribespeople were different. They weren't just fearlessly charging to their deaths; they seemed to have learned coordination, fighting in formations. They moved like another well-trained army.
As time wore on, the sounds of battle within the camp grew fainter, indicating the dwindling number of surviving knights.
Before long, the only ones still fighting on the entire battlefield were Desli and his blood-soaked personal guard. They had become the final focal point.
"Iron Wall!"
Suddenly, Desli shouted.
His perfectly coordinated guards simultaneously activated their Iron Wall defense once more.
A huge stone club smashed against the shimmering barrier, shattering into fragments. The Hybrid Giant, its ambush foiled, shook its head in disappointment.
Desli had no intention of getting entangled with this Hybrid Giant. He ordered, "Continue retreating east!"
However, at that moment, the tribespeople who had been constantly surrounding and attacking them suddenly parted, opening a path.
Several tribespeople, equipped with noticeably better gear, pushed a massive ballista into view. A colossal bronze bolt, resembling a spear, was loaded onto it.
Seeing the ballista, Desli's eyes nearly bulged from their sockets. He cried out in despair, "No!"
The bronze bolt shrieked through the air. The Iron Wall defense of Desli and his men shattered like glass upon impact. As the giant bolt flew past, spinning blades of wind, like steel knives, shredded Desli and his guards, armor and all, into fragments. Bits of flesh and blood rained down, mingling with the pure white snowflakes.
"Aolan weapons are truly formidable. No matter how many times I see them, they're still startling."
A Hybrid Giant patted the ballista beside him, his voice deep and booming with rough emotion.
Compared to other Hybrid Giants, he was almost short – only a little over two meters tall. Furthermore, unlike others with sharp tusks, his had been filed down to mere stumps, barely visible past his lips. This didn't make him look imposing; instead, it looked somewhat ugly. He even had a distinct ring of scar tissue around his neck, clearly from a high-temperature burn.
However, no tribesman warrior, regardless of race, dared to mock this Hybrid Giant's appearance. Because his name was Baxia.
The one the tribespeople called the unprecedented King Baxia.
"Unfortunately, it seems this was the only one in the Silver Wing Camp's armory."
A middle-aged man, whose form was concealed by a black cloak but whose face was clearly that of a pure-blooded human, responded. From his fair, smooth skin, one could tell he wasn't a tribesman accustomed to long-term life in the Kanpei Mountains.
Behind the middle-aged man stood several similarly clad figures in black cloaks.
"That's normal. You Aolan people have never considered us mountain beasts as true opponents. Naturally, you wouldn't deploy your finest soldiers and best weapons on the western border," King Baxia stated calmly, without much regret in his tone.
The man in the black cloak remained silent.
"How are things progressing with the Serpentfolk?" King Baxia turned to ask another tribal leader, this one covered in scales.
Just as King Baxia finished speaking, an eagle's cry echoed from the distance. A Griffin stood tall, beat its wings, and soared into the sky. A group of tribespeople around it were caught off guard by a chaotic whirlwind of wind blades, leaving many injured. Unfortunately, the Griffin didn't get far before its neck twisted at an unnatural angle, and it plummeted from the sky.
The Serpentfolk leader looked somewhat embarrassed. "Griffins need to be tamed from a young age. Subduing adult ones like these is too difficult. Please forgive us, Your Majesty."
"You have committed no crime, only rendered great service. The Serpentfolk tribe's contribution this time is the greatest," King Baxia shook his head, surveying the brutal carnage within the camp. "If they can't be tamed, kill them for food. These knights and their provisions certainly won't be enough to feed all our warriors."
"But…" The Serpentfolk leader seemed to think it was a pity.
"Fool! Get it done immediately!" King Baxia's expression shifted instantly, roaring, "We need to march quickly under the cover of this snowstorm! Where is there time for you to dawdle here!"
The ferocious aura radiating from him left no doubt that if the Serpentfolk leader dared question his command again, Baxia would tear him apart and devour him on the spot.
"Yes, Your Majesty." The Serpentfolk leader, startled, hurried off to execute the king's order.
King Baxia then turned back to the middle-aged man in the black cloak. "Are you certain you want to continue traveling with us?"
"Absolutely certain," the man replied without hesitation.
"I intend to drive straight through, reaching that city famed in legends as the most prosperous in the Aolan Empire!" King Baxia gazed eastward, as if his sight could pierce the heavy snow and see the destination his heart yearned for.
"That is precisely where I need to return!" the middle-aged man said, his voice laced with gritted teeth.
"I know," King Baxia withdrew his gaze and looked at the man. "But what intrigues me is, why would you, an Aolan, help me, a foreigner? What is it that you truly want?"
The middle-aged man shook his head. "I don't desire anything specific. Perhaps you cannot understand. All I want is to prove to the people in that city… that I was right. That we were right."
King Baxia's crimson eyes fixed on the middle-aged man. The man met his gaze unflinchingly, his own eyes burning with conviction, seemingly filled with fire.
Suddenly, King Baxia burst into loud laughter.
"Hahaha…" He slapped the middle-aged man on the shoulder, the huge hand making the man stumble slightly. "Excellent! Excellent! Just like that! Just like that! Back when I was a slave in the Aolan Empire, how come I never met an interesting Aolan like you!"
This king seemed completely unbothered talking about his own grim past.
The filed-down tusks, the scar on his neck – any experienced slave trader could recognize these marks: this was an escaped slave. The tusks were filed to diminish a Hybrid Giant's ferocity; the neck scar was from the collar marking ownership. Baxia never tried to cover them, never tried to hide his former shame.
"You were driven out; I escaped. You have something you need to prove; I have something I need to reclaim… Our paths align perfectly. Let's go raise some hell together."
"Let's move out! While the weather holds, let's go to Platinum City!"