Chapter 222: Chapter 108: A Resounding Victory! Diabolical Strategist Lynch
Rock Fortress, the stronghold they had held for over a year, was now the only beacon of hope for this defeated army.
If they could just get back, shut the heavy gates, light a bonfire, eat a hot meal, and get some sleep... these shell-shocked soldiers might be able to muster their courage again.
The column marched on in grim silence, and just before the darkest hour of dawn, they finally saw the familiar, blurry silhouette of Rock Fortress on the mountainside.
The watchtower stood silhouetted against the starry sky, as if quietly awaiting its master’s return.
"Look, it’s the Rock Fortress!"
"We made it! We finally made it!"
"Gods be praised..."
The surviving soldiers’ spirits lifted. Their pace quickened, and their faces showed a mixture of relief at having cheated death and the profound weariness that followed.
Many even began to imagine the taste of hot soup and the comfort of a warm bed.
Angus also breathed a small sigh of relief. His heart was still heavy, but at least they were safe for now.
He spurred his horse to the head of the column and shouted toward the fortress gate, "Open up! It’s Angus! The army has returned!"
His voice echoed through the valley.
However, the fortress gate remained shut tight, and no familiar signal light answered from the watchtower.
Angus frowned, a flicker of unease passing through him.
’Could the old and weak soldiers I left behind have been scared witless by the distant commotion tonight? Are they too afraid to open the gate?’
"Barton, take a few men, get closer, and hail them again!" he ordered.
His Personal Guard captain, Barton, led a dozen of his men closer, holding their torches high. He looked up and bellowed, "Hey, brothers up on the wall! It’s us! We’re back! Open the gate!"
Just then.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
The reply was not the sound of a gate bolt sliding open, but a volley of sharp, piercing whistles tearing through the air!
Dozens of arrows rained down from the fortress’s battlements and arrow towers like a sudden storm.
"Watch out!" Barton cried in horror, frantically raising his shield to block.
THUNK! THUNK!
"Aaargh!"
Caught off guard, several soldiers behind him were instantly riddled with arrows, turning them into human pincushions. They fell, screaming.
Several arrows slammed into Barton’s shield, the force of the repeated impacts sending a numbing shock up his arm.
"It’s an ambush," Barton said, scrambling back to the main formation, his face ashen with a mixture of terror and rage.
Angus stared at the bodies of his Personal Guard at the gate, and a roar filled his ears. He felt as if his head would explode.
He looked up, his gaze fixed on the command tower, the highest point of the fortress.
From the command tower’s window, an unfamiliar flag now flew. It had a blue-green field embroidered with a purple iris.
Beside the flag stood a tall, slender figure in an ornate Mage Robe.
She was leaning against the railing, leisurely looking down on the chaotic, defeated army below. Her posture was so relaxed it was as if she were watching an entertaining play.
The night wind swept past, lifting her long, purple hair.
She even gave them an enthusiastic wave.
Then, a clear female voice drifted down, laced with unconcealed triumph.
"Well, well~ If it isn’t our magnificent ’Lord’ Angus Fisher? What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for ages~"
Angus’s pupils constricted, and his whole body trembled. "You... Who are you?!"
"Me?" The purple-haired Mage laughed, her voice growing bolder and more arrogant. "Listen up, and listen good. The name’s Amadis Hayes—Commander of the Sixth Battle Battalion, Iron Wall Battle Group, North Wind Legion. And yes, I’m that Necromancer who ’shouldn’t’ exist according to your intelligence reports."
She paused, then continued in a tone dripping with enough mockery to kill. "Honestly, Angus, you utter fool. Did the war knock your brains loose? You march your entire army out, leaving a paltry one or two hundred old, sick, and feeble soldiers and a few cooks to guard your home? When a ’gift’ this good falls into my lap, how could I possibly refuse? My, my, you’ve built a fine fortress here. The granaries are quite full, too. Thanks ever so much for your hospitality."
As soon as her words faded, pale Skeletal heads began to appear from behind the battlements and in the arrow towers. Numerous powerful zombies also materialized on the walls and began to patrol back and forth.
Rock Fortress, his own stronghold, now flew the enemy’s flag, garrisoned by an army of the Undead.
In that instant, a wave of dizziness washed over Angus. His eyes became bloodshot, and he felt as if he were about to cough up blood.
’How can this be?!’
’The intel clearly stated that Lynch’s unit was the only force in Lakefront Town!’
’This Amadis Hayes... and her Sixth Battle Battalion of the Iron Wall Battle Group... where in the hell did they crawl out from?!’
’Of course...’
’When we planned the campaign, the idea was to steamroll Lakefront Town. Naturally, we committed all our elite troops to ensure a swift victory.’
’Who the hell could have imagined our own base would get sacked?!’
’Sacked by another Necromancer’s army, no less!?’
Even the normally cautious and calm Angus Fisher was so enraged that blood rushed to his head. With a metallic ring, he drew his greatsword, ready to order an assault on the fortress and kill that arrogant, domineering female Necromancer.
"My lord, no! Calm yourself, my lord!" Barton and a group of trusted officers cried out in alarm, rushing forward to restrain Angus, who was on the verge of losing control.
"Commander, you can’t be reckless!" a veteran officer urged. "We only have five or six hundred men left. They’re exhausted, morale is at rock bottom, and our armor and weapons are a mess. The fortress walls are strong, easy to defend and hard to attack. And with so many Undead soldiers on the walls... there’s no way we can take it back quickly."
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