My Kingdom Building Done Right!
Chapter 258: Like A Towering Mountain
After breakfast, the Darkmane Tribe once again held a meeting.
Their discussion this time revolved around their planned attack for the day.
One by one, everyone gave their proposals. In the end, the opinion given by the temporary commander who managed the siege weapons was seriously considered by everyone.
"Our Fire Catapults are the strongest siege weapons in the Borderlands," the temporary commander said. "I don’t know what kind of trick they used yesterday, but that might only be a one-time thing.
"Perhaps they are betting on us giving up on our catapults by making us feel that they are ineffective against their defenses. But you all saw it yesterday, didn’t you? We managed to deal damage to their walls. That couldn’t be faked. The damage we inflicted miraculously faded every second after our bombardment."
This was something none of them could deny, which made them feel a little hopeful.
"Indeed. I noticed that as well," one of the shamans who was in charge of the catapult’s operation nodded in agreement. "Maybe they are indeed using some kind of trick we are only seeing for the first time. But I believe that if we continue our siege, we might discover the secret behind their defenses."
Troy glanced at his advisor, who seemed to be deep in thought.
"What do you think, Jafar?" Troy asked.
"I think they have a point." Jafar frowned. "Our Fire Catapults are the strongest siege weapons in the Borderlands. The Aslan Tribe might just be using a trick to make us believe that our weapons don’t work against them.
"Even if they have some kind of ability that repairs the damage we inflict on them, I believe it cannot be used forever. After all, something like that simply breaks the laws of nature. It cannot be carried out indefinitely."
Everyone nodded in agreement, regaining a bit of confidence that they had lost.
Indeed.
If that kind of ability had existed, then the Kingdom of Britannia would have employed it long ago.
With that ability, the barbarians wouldn’t have been able to destroy the forts that the kingdom had tried to build in the Borderlands if the Fire Catapults weren’t effective.
Now that they had all come to an agreement, they started brainstorming how they would defend against the Archer of Death.
That was the moniker they gave the unknown archer who could kill them from a distance they couldn’t comprehend.
They had lost hundreds of warriors and a dozen shamans in yesterday’s siege. The warriors’ death was one thing, but every shaman was precious to the Darkmane Tribe.
If possible, they didn’t want to lose more of them in today’s siege.
In the end, Jafar proposed that he would also head to the frontlines and help erect a magical barrier that would increase their defenses.
Though in order to enhance the defenses, instead of sending fifteen Fire Catapults, they would only send eight this time around.
The shamans would then help Jafar erect a stronger barrier, while the rest would focus on operating the Fire Catapults.
And to ensure Jafar’s safety, the shaman also planned to bring a hundred of his special forces, all armed with heavy shields made from steel.
Since wooden shields pose little resistance against the Archer of Death, steel shields would be used during this siege.
With that plan in motion, the Darkmane Tribe once again entered the battlefield.
Soon, rows upon rows of men charged with steel shields raised to protect their bodies.
The moment they made their advance, Otto unleashed his deadly bolts.
Jafar and the shamans had already erected their magical barriers, hoping it would block the deadly attack from their enemy.
Unfortunately for them, Otto’s attack bypassed any barriers, including magical barriers. However, the trade-off was that his attacks would become 50% weaker.
The moment his bolt collided with the steel shield, the bolt was able to pierce through it and kill the shield bearer.
But that was it.
The man behind the shield bearer, who was also holding a shield, managed to block the momentum of Otto’s bolt.
Seeing that only one shield bearer died from the bolt made Jafar clench his fist in triumph.
Since his special forces were all made up of Undead, even if their bodies were pierced through by the bolt, they wouldn’t die.
This ensured Jafar’s safety, which gave them a good idea.
"Switch shield bearers!" Jafar ordered.
In response, dozens of his special forces moved in unison, all of them carrying the heavy shields in their hands.
They moved toward the very front of the formation, while the living warriors pulled back so that none of them would die in battle.
Otto, who had sensed that his attack wasn’t working, decided to change up his strategy.
Instead of targeting the ones operating the catapults, the Horizon Archer began to target the warriors at the rear of the formation.
In other words, those who had no shields to defend them against his attacks.
And just as he expected, a single bolt managed to claim half a dozen lives with each strike.
Since he couldn’t target the Fire Catapults, he would just decimate the rest of the Darkmane Tribe’s army and force them to retreat due to heavy losses.
Another battle ensued with both sides employing every trick they could use to one-up each other.
Leone repaired the walls, ensuring none of the walls would be fully destroyed.
Since only stone was needed to repair his first line of defense, he wasn’t too worried.
Even now, the Kobolds were digging through their underground tunnels, supplying Leone with the resources needed to keep repairing the walls without fail.
Aside from that, Daedalus also had a very large stockpile of stones that could be used at a moment’s notice.
After two hours of grueling battle, the Darkmane Tribe once again made their retreat after a single bolt flew to the platform where Troy was seated.
His instincts had perfectly kicked in at the last moment, and the chieftain managed to tilt his head just in time to prevent a fatal injury.
The bolt grazed Troy’s cheek before embedding itself in the warrior behind him, who collapsed on the ground dead.
Because it was only a graze, his life-saving artifact didn’t activate.
But it was more than enough to spook the great chieftain, who left his seat in haste to hide behind his guards.
Travis watched this scene with a faint smile on his face.
His father had always struck him as an invincible existence. But now... seeing how vulnerable he was made him realize that the man, whom he tried to impress by his achievements, was also human.
The person whose praise and recognition Travis had wanted to gain in the past was a mortal just like him. Both of them could get hurt... and also get killed.
As the horns that signaled their retreat echoed across the battlefield, the Darkmane Tribe pulled back once more.
They had lost hundreds of warriors in the battle. Even their great chieftain had nearly been assassinated by the Archer of Death, who had proven himself to be a very fearful existence.
Though Troy’s wound was little more than a graze, the image of him scrambling for cover after Otto’s bolt struck him was burned into the warriors who were present in the scene.
The confidence they had brought with them into the battlefield had vanished, replaced with an oppressive silence that lingered over the camp like a dark cloud.
To make matters worse, Kael had once again chanted the Aslan Tribe’s war chant, accompanied by the Aslanians.
"So let the arrogant draw their swords and let them charge without avail." Kael’s voice boomed from the fortress on the mountain, reverberating across the land with Daedalus’ help. "The grave awaits all those who stand against great Aslan... Soleil!"
His voice, filled with arrogance and contempt, hit the Darkmane Tribe where it hurt.
For the first time, many began to wonder if the Aslan Tribe truly could not be defeated.
They began to wonder if they had indeed come to Grimjaw Mountain to die, just like what Kael declared in his chant.
Godwin, Hagen, and Malik watched the retreating members of the Darkmane Tribe with solemn gazes on their faces.
Even they, who held powerful armies themselves, knew that they wouldn’t fare any better than the Darkmane Tribe if they were to attack Aslan Soleil’s fortress.
They stared at the young man on the ramparts, who was holding the banner of the golden lion that fluttered in the breeze.
He was still young, and yet, he stood like a towering mountain that the barbarians were unable to defeat.
No matter how many times they replayed the battle in their minds, they couldn’t find a way to overcome him.
They didn’t know that the walls of the fortress could be broken.
Their siege weapons could be destroyed.
And the gates could eventually fall.
But as long as Leone stood upon those ramparts, the fortress itself would stand its ground. He was the pillar that supported the Aslan Tribe’s defenses.
Unless he was taken out first, it was nearly impossible for anyone to break past their defenses.
And somewhere within the Darkmane Tribe’s camp, a desperate voice finally uttered the question that no one had wanted to ask.
"Just... how are we supposed to win?"
No one answered this question.
For no one knew the answer.
All they knew was that when the next battle started once more, they might suffer the fate of their comrades, who were now lying on the ground with their blood staining the lands of Aslan Soleil.