Chapter 79: The Border of Cardero Province—The Battle of South Lumen Mountain (Part One)

Late October, fifty kilometers south of Deer Gate South Mountain, the first watch post lit the beacon, signaling the rear for warning, gathering supplies, and retreating.

Seeing the black smoke rising in the distance, Kael hurried to the command tent to report to Weilin.

“Sir, a signal from the south—enemy forces are approaching, at least five thousand strong.”

“Alert all our troops outside to return immediately to the Deer Gate South Mountain Fortress. Warn the eastern nobles and the frontier knights. Also, send a signal north to inform the commander of our situation.” Weilin, upon hearing Kael’s report, remained unflustered and issued his orders methodically.

“Yes, my lord.”

The troops surrounding Deer Gate South Mountain, carrying out various missions, abandoned all tasks at once and returned with essential supplies to the fortress—a shelter they had spent a month building.

Twenty kilometers from the southernmost watch post, a ratman shaman squinted up at the black smoke curling through the sky, his eyes darting.

“Tark.”

“At your call, master. What are your orders for this humble mouse?” A two-meter-tall giant ratman, stone hammer in hand, knelt respectfully before Tatosol, the shaman.

“How many fodder have you gathered?”

“Master, I have assembled four thousand cannon fodder: five hundred able-bodied, thirty-five hundred old or weak—all have taken your plague draught.”

“I’ve fed them for days—it’s time they prove their worth.” With that, the ratman shaman mounted his rodent steed and urged the troops forward.

A day later, at the foot of Deer Gate South Mountain, more than ten thousand monsters encamped, gazing up at the fortress perched atop the hills.

Several scouts, hidden in a pit and veiled by shrubs, watched cautiously and counted the enemy.

“The scent of humans,” a ratman soldier sniffed the air uncertainly.

“Are you sure?” The officer turned to his keen-nosed scout.

“Captain, I’m not sure, but there’s a strong human scent—much stronger than the traces left at the outposts.”

“Search. Assemble a squad and scour the area.”

The ratman officer chose caution over risk. Soon, over a hundred ratmen soldiers filed from the camp, searching in teams of five and gradually narrowing their hunt with their sharp noses.

“There’s no time, we must go,” whispered the lead knight’s squire to the clerk beside him, watching the ratmen approach.

“Agreed.”

They slipped from the pit and headed up the mountain.

“Sir, humans—ahead!” The ratman officer spotted three figures hundreds of meters away. Too late to give chase, he barked, “Keep searching. Turn this place upside down.”

At his command, the ratmen scattered for a thorough sweep.

Elsewhere, Weilin gathered intelligence on the monster army and convened a war council to plan defenses and bolster morale.

“Kael, report.”

When all centurions and higher officers were assembled, Weilin took the seat of honor.

Kael unrolled his parchment and began, “According to our scouts, the enemy numbers about ten thousand. Three thousand ratmen, the rest goblins and kobolds—exact numbers unknown, but judging by their tents, between five and seven thousand. There are also some two thousand assorted monsters: gnolls, lizardmen, centaurs, ogres, and the like.”

“In addition, we’ve spotted half-dragons—at least two, possibly more.”

The mood in the room grew somber. They called themselves a defense army, but at best they were a second-line force—adequate for fighting goblins, kobolds, and ratmen, but when faced with gnoll clans, lizardfolk, or fearsome ogres, courage faltered.

“Gentlemen, I know this will be hard,” Weilin drew a deep breath and spoke loudly, “but I’ve already reported our situation to the commander. If we can hold out for a few days, reinforcements will come.”

“Also, with the monster army appearing here, I believe the province’s forces and the kingdom’s army will not stand idle.”

“Finally, danger always brings opportunity—if we can hold these monsters here, there will be no shortage of merit, perhaps even glory.”

Stirred by Weilin’s words, the hundred men in the room regained clarity in their eyes, their fear and numbness receding, replaced by hope.

Then Weilin rose, drew his knight’s longsword, and drove it into the wooden table: “In this defense, I will stand in the front lines, fighting alongside you.”

“If I flee the battlefield, you may turn your weapons on me and strike me down.”

A murmur swept the room, shattering the earlier calm.

After several minutes, a commander of a thousand stood up. “Sir, you have always been just, never favoring your own over others. Your character has earned my respect. I will follow your command and fight beside you.”

“In the presence of the Goddess of Life, I too swear to fight by your side. If I should flee, I beg you to slay me without mercy,” declared another, rising solemnly.

The other four commanders of a thousand followed suit, swearing to defend Deer Gate South Mountain Fortress to the death.

Centurions followed their direct superiors, taking the same oath.

“Hold this city, shatter the monsters’ schemes, and you will all be heroes.”

Once the meeting adjourned, the centurions passed the message down, reviving flagging spirits.

Surrounded, there was no escape—cowardice meant death, but so did courage. Why fear the enemy, when even their exalted commander would stand on the front line? What was left to fear?

The next morning, several thousand cannon fodder—festering and diseased, exuding a foul stench—were driven to the front, herded by over a thousand ratman soldiers, to hurl goblin and kobold wretches against the fortress.

The ratman shaman sat aloft on his rodent steed, pride swelling in his heart at his handiwork.

“Today, we pollute this mud fortress.”

“Tomorrow, we break through.”

“Master, you are mighty. These humans will be your stepping stone to the Soul Will rank. The glory of the ratmen will rise again,” gushed the giant ratman Tark.

“Hahaha, Tark, when I am promoted, you will not be overlooked—the position of ratman warlord will be yours.”

“Thank you, master! Thank you!”