Only God-Chapter 605 - 509: The Approaching Decisive Battle (Combined - s)_2

Chapter 605: Chapter 509: The Approaching Decisive Battle (Combined Chapters)_2

The smooth progress of the war couldn’t help but broaden Kafu the Sixth’s horizons.

"Southern Robopf, Western Robopf, Ryend..."

The names Kafu the Sixth was muttering were all those of the dwarven kingdoms.

Just as humans were not limited to the Golan Kingdom, dwarves also had more than just Kaelonde as a kingdom. Even though their population paled in comparison to humans and beastmen, they had built dozens of states, both large and small, on one corner of the continent.

Among them were those who lived savagely, those who were civilized, those who were the dominant lords of their domain, and those who were merely recluses in their city-states... Looking at the scattered dwarven kingdoms, Kafu the Sixth gradually formed a bold idea.

After conquering Golan, unifying the dwarven kingdoms, and building a grand empire that belonged to the dwarves in one corner of the continent.

"An empire... like Danschel, no, surpassing the empire of Danschel."

This grand ideal began to sprout in Kafu the Sixth’s heart.

"If that empire were to truly be established, my name will be etched in our race’s history, and even the gods will be shaken by my deeds."

Kafu the Sixth couldn’t stop marveling as he immersed himself in this grand fantasy.

He had no worries about conquering Golan before him.

Now the Golan Kingdom had fallen into a state of leaderlessness. If they had gathered together, there would have been a threat, but every Golan lord and army they encountered along the way fought independently without coordination; none could withstand the onslaught of the dwarves.

Under such a smooth campaign, the only concern for Kafu the Sixth was that some of his legions were eager to achieve quick merits, marching too fast, and might thus invite an ambush and counterattack from the enemy.

...............

...............

The war was about to welcome its final battle.

Maxwell was clear about this.

After a series of reforms, the Golan Royal City Novi was united in heart and spirit. Far from being shattered by the dwarves’ brutal methods, these people had begun to stand together in unity. It was precisely the dwarves’ looting and slaughter that made the Golan people realize they must not give up the land under their feet.

Currently, Nuo Lang had about sixty thousand soldiers at his disposal, of which nearly one-third were conscripts from the royal city and surrounding areas. Their role on the battlefield was merely to bolster the numbers; the two-thirds of seasoned soldiers were Maxwell’s main force. Under his orders, Nuo Lang had been mobilized; a large number of ordinary civilians had joined the logistical support, ready to fight for their faith and defend their homes and country.

The shadow of despair still hung over the royal city, and the arrogance of the grand Kaelonde army was vividly in mind. The dwarves seemed nearly invincible and had effortlessly penetrated the heartland of the kingdom, conquering nearly half of its territory, while the King of the Dwarves pointed directly at Novi—a city built by the Golan people in servitude and which witnessed their breaking free from shackles and achieving glorious independence. And now, with the kingdom’s heart under threat, the Golan people were terrified of annihilation.

The royal family and lords who had once formed alliances almost had no confidence in Golan’s fate; most of them had chosen to stand by and watch. In their eyes, the edge of the dwarven forces would ruthlessly trample this land, and Golan would eventually be destroyed by adversity.

Maxwell took on the heavy responsibility of saving Golan; besides him, there was no one else the Golan people could rely on, and the old Earl also racked his brains planning the next move.

"We need a victory,"

Maxwell stated in the meeting hall,

"We urgently need a victory to boost morale, to let the Golan people know, to let other nations know, to let the dwarves know, that adversity cannot destroy Golan."

His words were concise and clear, going straight to the heart of Golan’s most core issue—without victory, there were only defeats.

Even a pyrrhic victory could still inspire countless desperate Golan people to regain confidence, urge the royals and the lords who refused to honor their alliance to extend a helping hand, and let the arrogant dwarves taste the flavor of defeat.

But as easy as it was to say, it was far from easy to execute.

To joke, if Golan could have won, they would have already won.

"The dwarves march too swiftly, and their siege capabilities are so mighty... it’s difficult for us to achieve victory."

A Chief Centurion, who had experienced the King’s devastating defeat and retreated from the battlefield, spoke with lingering fear.

"We can only gain an advantage in plain warfare, at that time, Laiendos luckily sided with us, and we manage to crush the enemy’s offenses several times."

Another Legion Commander, with similar experiences, saw things even more clearly, and he added,

"But that was based on the fact that the Kaelonde giants had not yet joined the battlefield."

Maxwell nodded and said,

"Then, our goal is to engage as many Dwarf giants as possible, leading the dwarf legions lacking giants deep into our territory, and then taking the opportunity to encircle and crush them.

With the Dwarves naturally not adept at riding due to their stature, they have always lacked cavalry, so once we successfully draw the enemy in deep, defeating them is only a matter of time."

Having had successful experience ambushing Dwarves, Maxwell was well aware of their weaknesses.

The plan was thus set, the Golan Kingdom resolved to fight a small-scale pitch battle or skirmish to snatch the hard-won victory, even if it meant a pyrrhic victory. In the council hall, after discussions among everyone and Maxwell’s final approval, they quickly determined where to lure the Dwarves into attack and how to delay the Dwarf giant force to separate them. The last question was who would carry out the task.

"Let Marvin do it, he’s experienced."

"No, I’ve heard he’s suspected of deserting in the face of battle."

"What about Mills? Apparently, he’s not up for it either, he’s just recovered recently, and he’s too important, we can’t risk losing him."

"Karon? He has decent ability, but I hear he often whips his soldiers."

The council hall fell into dismay; successive candidates were proposed, but without exception, all were rejected. If they couldn’t decide soon, they would have to follow the ancient custom of the Golan Kingdom, to go to the Temple and let the Winter God Skadi decide.

And just when they were at an impasse, an unexpected person stood up, volunteering:

"Father, and all the lords, leave it to me. I swear by the crown of Skadi, I’ll return victorious."

It was Maxwell’s second son, Philip, who spoke.

As his voice fell, an urgent voice from his older brother rang out.

"Philip, you’re mad!"

His elder brother, Weiset, grabbed his shoulder.

He tried to stop his younger brother.

But Philip had a determined look in his eyes,

"You’ve talked about many who can’t take on the responsibility for various reasons, only I perfectly fit the bill, trust me, I cannot stand idly by."

Philip’s courage stunned everyone present; the noble son of the old Earl could have hidden in the safest place in Nuo Lang or even left the Royal City to meet his mother and youngest brother in the most comfortable part of the Kingdom. Yet, he chose to step forward and willingly took on this daunting task.

In the council hall, it was Maxwell who first regained his composure. He thoroughly examined his second son and realized he was indeed an excellent choice.

Like his brother, Philip’s abilities were mediocre—not outstanding, just average—which suited the task of luring the enemy. On the one hand, it could maximize the chance of success, while on the other, the Kingdom, now in a precarious state, could afford the risk of losing him.

The only issue was that luring the enemy wasn’t easy; on the contrary, it was full of challenges and dangers. An unexpected misstep could turn the feigned defeat into a real one.

After a moment’s thought, Maxwell made his decision,

"Philip, it’s yours to accomplish. Remember, you swore by the name of Skadi, the guardian deity of this country."