Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Chapter 810 810 78 The Dagger Appears

?Chapter 810: Chapter 78: The Dagger Appears Chapter 810: Chapter 78: The Dagger Appears The west wind swept through with scorching, poisonous smoke, engulfing the land as terrifying explosions erupted one after another.

Wildfires spread from the riverbanks inland, roaring flames consuming dry leaves, bushes, and pine and cypress trees until they converged into a sea of flames floating above the canopy.

No matter what plans the people of Terdun had, those who were trapped did not choose to break out immediately.

Winters also did not rashly launch a general assault, and the battlefield thus fell into an unsettling silence.

The silence was broken by a fire, a massive blaze from the surface of the water—Samujin’s fleet, taking advantage of the night, landed and set the forest ablaze, igniting multiple areas along the coastline in one go.

The execution of a scorched earth policy had destroyed most of the trees along the coast, all except for this patch of forest at the confluence of the two rivers, left deliberately for a surprising effect during a general assault.

The fire took advantage of the wind, and the wind fueled the fire, quickly connecting the scattered burning areas into one line, illuminating the ten-mile riverbank with a blood-red glow.

The camp of Tie Chi was thrown into chaos, the fire not yet reaching there, but the fierce wind already brought with it scorching heatwaves.

The panicked birds and beasts, terrified out of their wits, fled in droves, even rushing heedlessly into the crowds of people.

A slave near the forest only heard hooves from behind and before he could see clearly what it was, he was knocked down by a fully-grown stag.

The stag broke its neck and died on the spot; the unarmored slave too was penetrated by the twelve prongs of the stag’s antlers and quick with his blood flowing out, he soon stopped breathing.

But at this moment, no one cared about the life and death of a stag and a slave.

The people of Terdun in the camp were cursing, shouting, and running around, trying to save their belongings and their lives.

“Prepare the saddles! Quick, prepare the saddles!”

“Take everything!”

“Get out of the way!”

“There’s no waiting! Move the horses! Move the horses!”

The people were in a panic, and the horses were even more restless. Horses’ senses are far sharper than humans’; they had already smelled the peculiar scent in the wind long ago.

A warhorse, without any warning, threw off its rider, kicking and thrashing about, while the people of Terdun around it rolled and scrambled to dodge.

“Catch it! Catch it!”

“Damn beast!”

“Watch out!” Amidst the chaos, another Terdun person shouted, “The horses are spooked!”

Another panic-stricken warhorse charged forward, striking a slave who failed to dodge in time, sending him flying out with blood spewing from his mouth.

The spooked horse also received a great deal of recoil and, neighing loudly, reared up on its hind legs.

Right at that moment, two lassos, one from the front and one from behind, snared the frightened horse and stopped it in its tracks.

A man with salt-and-pepper hair and a robust frame pounced forward, wrapping his arms around the frightened horse’s neck, trapping it under his armpit.

The robust man exerted his whole body, pressing down the horse’s head while pushing heavily against its side.

Because of their joint structure, horses can resist vertical but not sideways pressure, so the struggle between man and beast lasted less than a few breaths.

Followed by a thunderous roar, the Terdun strongman “threw” the frightened horse to the ground.

The panicked warhorse wailed as it fell, kicking and flailing about.

The strongman stubbornly pressed down on the horse’s neck, neither allowing it to get up nor giving it a chance to bite someone.

The rest of the Terdun people swarmed over, tying up the frightened horse’s legs clumsily with many hands, controlling the crazed animal.

When the crowd recognized the strongman who displayed such mastery in handling horses, they couldn’t help but cheer; it was none other than Tie Chi.

Tie Chi propped himself up with both hands, struggling to lift his hefty body as if to silently say, “What is this? I’ve handled much worse than this when I was young.”

Tie Chi’s personal guard—who had just thrown the lasso that caught the frightened horse—ran over to support him, speaking in a gruff voice, “Nayen’s strength remains as strong as in his prime.”

Tie Chi spat out a mouthful of saliva fiercely, “Save the flattering for later; did the people sent to find the other leaders come back?”

The personal guard shook his head.

“Father! Kota—they refuse to join us!” Tie Chi’s son shouted as he sprinted over, “We must go now! Father!”

Although the camp of Terdun people was located on higher ground, the forest obscured their direct view of the fire.

The night sky was already burned red, and the choking smoke grew thicker—clearly, the fire was approaching rapidly while they spoke.

And Tie Chi’s troops were still rushing about, either salvaging wealth or rounding up the warhorses.

“There’s no time to gather them.” Tie Chi, fierce, commanded firmly, “Take only the bows, arrows, armor, and provisions! Leave everything else! Come with me quickly to escape the fire!”

The Terdun people were dispersed and camped by family units; in this moment, the only ones Tie Chi could control were his immediate followers.

Tie Chi’s son first froze, then rushed into the camp, striking at the clansmen rolling up their valuables, “Leave it all!”

…

Behind the third line of defense, on a hill, Winters and others from the command post were watching the fire.

The fire was better than he had hoped; seems like Samujin had completed his task beautifully.

The fire sea, like semi-transparent red mist floating above the canopy, twisted with smoke and flame surging into the sky, as if a light veil fluttering in the wind.

Thunderous explosions followed one after another, mixed with the occasional screams of those being burned alive.

The hellish scene caused the civilian-born clerks in the command post to show looks of pity, some turned away not to look, others covered their ears not wanting to hear.

Winters, having experienced several fire attacks, knew well that being burnt to death was only a small part; most victims died of smoke inhalation—running and then collapsing, never to rise again.

His command post had just undergone a reorganization, incorporating a group of administrative personnel who had originally belonged to Bard.

These literate and numerate clerks freed Winters from part of the mechanical labor, at least he no longer needed to write every command and memorandum by hand, verbal orders sufficed.