Chapter 262: It Begins (II)
One of the commanders behind White spoke out, unconsciously backing off, but White’s hand reached out and pulled him back to his original position.
Then, he turned to the side, ordering:
"Prepare the ballistae and catapults!"
Immediately, dozens of wall soldiers moved quickly.
The siege engines were set up, while enormous boulders were rolled into position beside the catapults, oil being poured over them before they were set aflame.
Nearby, the ballistae were cranked back, massive iron-tipped bolts being loaded into place.
There were about a total of 10 of those on the walls, all quickly prepared as the armies continued their advancement.
As expected, White watched the Hellwrath armies halting their advances, hundreds of meters away.
They scoured through the outer circle houses, ransacking them, and some immediately moved to the wells.
"They’re unprepared. Should we begin the fire, My Lord?"
Juntar spoke behind him, but White raised his hand, halting them.
"Not yet."
He said.
His eyes narrowed, looking at how the Barbarians moved. They never moved in groups, erratic in their movement, no sign of following any particular orders.
’As expected.’
White thought quietly.
They were hungry and thirsty from the journey and had indeed planned on refueling here, just to be faced with the abysmal truth of everything having been burned up.
Many drank from the wells, what ought to have been their first line of relief, but which had instead been poisoned and turned into their first line of destruction.
But the poison was never immediate, and White had made it that way.
While there were poisons that instantly killed, burning throats apart and seizing lives. But that would quickly expose the wells being poisoned, affecting only a little of them.
He had opted for one that weakened them instead, then reacted violently in a particular time frame, which he had timed to be exactly three hours from now.
Attacking now would mean forcing them to engage immediately. It was better to wait and let them all drink, just to begin dying a couple of hours once the fight began.
And so, they waited.
Occasionally, a javelin would be thrown from afar just to frighten them, but it never reached close to the walls before another arrow knocked into it, sending it tumbling away.
There was fear at first, White could see that.
But the more they all watched the Barbarians foolishly drinking poison while growling at them to scare them, the more he noticed the fearful expressions begin to morph into wary but cold reason.
"They did not bring any siege engines..."
A commander suddenly spoke out, and he was indeed right.
The Hellwraths didn’t arrive with ballistae or catapults, just their animals and their weapons.
"When they finish satisfying themselves with the poison, then they’ll engage."
White called out to all.
"But remember."
"The poison was a bait that not only weakens them but also guarantees they’ll die in three hours from now, and now that they’ve taken it, this fight has steered more in our favor."
"We do not face them in direct battle. Now, we simply bid for time. Three hours from now and all will fall dead."
He completed.
___
"Three hours."
"Just three hours of fighting and we’ll win."
"Shorter than I expected."
"We might just prevail after all."
____
The murmurs echoed from below.
"They’re starting to advance, My Lord."
Juntar spoke behind him, and true to his words, one could already see the barbarians rushing out toward them, erratically as ever.
"Prepare to fire the catapults on my order."
He said to them as soldiers hung around each wall weapon in preparation.
White watched them get closer, then closer, then closer, and when they reached 200 meters, he began the countdown.
"10..."
"9..."
"8..."
The heavier the count rang, the more the pressure increased, the shouts of the barbarians getting closer and closer.
"3..."
"2..."
"1..."
"Send Them To Hell!"
"FIIIIIIIREEEE!"
Juntar roared out, and in the next moment, the walls shook as the catapults unleashed their payloads.
Enormous burning boulders flew through the air like falling meteors.
The barbarians, of course, put up no defense of any sort, and the boulders crashed through them, crushing hundreds upon hundreds into paste.
"Continue."
White spoke to Juntar, who shouted out the order.
"Reload And Fire!"
KRAAAAAASH!
THOOOOOOM!
KRAAAAAASH!
THOOOOOOM!
The ceaseless sounds of impact continued, each heavier than the last.
"The catapults have exhausted their prepared ammunition!"
A soldier reported.
"Ballistae ready!"
"Prepare the arrows, and wait for my order."
"ARCHERS! JAVELIN THROWERS! PREPARE!"
Juntar shouted, and about 400 soldiers rose to positions upon the walls.
Many of the barbarians were throwing spears, but that had already been prepared for and didn’t hurt a single soul.
The barbarians got closer and closer, yet no order came, increasing the pressure.
"My Lord."
Juntar spoke.
"Not yet."
White said, letting them get closer.
It wasn’t just about throwing everything out at once; he was starting to see the pattern in the runs of the barbarians.
How they slowed at one point as if to recover, then sprinted forward with full vigor once more, only to slow down again.
It was like they were expending energy, then rejuvenating, then spending it once more.
And he was waiting for their rejuvenation point, when they slowed down.
The second it happened,
"Now."
"FIRE!"
"FIRE EVERY ARROW WE’VE GOT!"
Immediately, the sky above the barbarians fully turned pitch black as a rain of arrows came flying down at the exact unfortunate moment when many of them had slowed down to recover their breath.
It was a cruel massacre, as many barbarians were instantly turned into sieves.
"Why?"
"Why can’t they avoid it, when they were moving so fast just previously?"
Some of the archers called out, watching as the barbarians were butchered, unable to move quickly enough out of the way, as if the arrows somehow held a slowing effect.
But still, there was no change in White’s expression.
"They’ll slow down again, just fifty meters away from the gates..."
He murmured to himself before calling.
"Juntar?"
"Yes, My Lord."
"We prepare to engage."
He called.
"But..."
Juntar said, coming closer and whispering into his ear.
"I thought we’d wait it out until they knock the gates down? That will take some of their energy, while leaving them even more defenseless to the archers?"
