Shadowed Gaze: The Highserk War Saga - Chapter 15

Having used his magical power to its limit, Walm was overcome by extreme fatigue. His legs felt as heavy as stones after the long run, and no friendly troops were around.

“You’re the only one left… the commander, right?”

Asking and getting an answer would save time. Expecting no response, Walm was surprised to get one.

“Yes, that’s right. You’re too bold for a mere soldier. I am Winston Felius, commander of the Felius Kingdom’s Mayard expeditionary army.”

There was a possibility of him being a body double. After all, Walm didn’t know what the enemy looked like. Yet, there was an inherent dignity and presence in his brief manner of speech.

“Surrender.”

There was no need for unnecessary killing. Capturing an enemy commander and royalty would be advantageous in negotiations between nations.

“I have my limbs intact, my sword, and my pride. My soldiers are fighting. There’s no reason for me to surrender!”

Winston drew his sword vigorously, stepping forward with an upper stance, ready to attack Walm.

He was quicker than expected. Walm had assumed that a royal commander would be just for show, but he had to rethink that.

Walm parried an overhead blow with his halberd and lunged forward, but Winston deflected it with his sword and circled to Walm’s left.

Magic and skills were already beyond his use. Walm hoped for help from surrounding soldiers, but they were obstructed by the flames and the soldiers trying to rescue Winston. Even the magical power for body enhancement was running low.

Walm focused solely on how to kill this formidable enemy. Their sword and halberd crossed many times, each aiming for a fatal blow.

Winston’s sword wounded Walm’s arm, and Walm’s halberd grazed Winston’s neck.

Blood seeped from Winston’s neck, but it was far from fatal. They pushed each other off, creating space and distance.

Walm grasped the bottom of his halberd’s handle and lunged from a greater distance than before. This unexpected move threw Winston off balance.

Walm threw his halberd at Winston’s head. Winston knocked it down with his sword, but Walm, stepping forward, concealed the draw of his longsword and swung it.

Winston’s movements ceased as he collapsed from the knees. His neck was almost severed, blood gushing profusely.

“Even if I lose, Felius… hasn’t lost yet.”

With his last words, Winston slumped to the ground, dying under Walm’s gaze.

“I’ve killed the enemy commander!”

Walm took a deep breath and shouted. His cry quickly spread across the battlefield.

The Highserk soldiers were invigorated, while the Felius soldiers, who had been resisting fiercely, started fleeing down the hill.

The Highserk soldiers did not miss this opportunity. As Walm gasped for breath, he heard the neighing of horses. A group of cavalry appeared, heavily armored.

From the group, a man stepped forward towards Walm.

“You killed him?”

The man who stepped forward was known to every Highserk soldier, Jeyf, the commander of the Jeyf Cavalry Battalion.

“That’s right.”

Walm confirmed his achievement. The commander looked down at the body and nodded slowly.

“It’s indeed Winston Felius himself. Well done. This is a significant victory. What’s your unit’s name?”

Caught off guard, Walm hesitated before answering.

“I’m Walm from the Cozul platoon, Duwey squad.”

“So, you’re Walm. I had thought to take Winston’s head myself, but you did a splendid job. The light infantry battalion will regroup on the hill and prepare for the final push. You can rest until then.”

Exhausted, Walm would have collapsed if not for the commander’s presence.

“There will likely be a reward from Commander Berger for your valor. Don’t die until then.”

With these words, the Jeyf leader turned and led his battalion down the hill.

Enemies who couldn’t escape were swallowed by the battalion, their corpses scattered across the ground.

From the hilltop, Walm saw the entire battlefield. Like wolves attacking a flock of sheep, the cavalry roamed the field, striking the enemy from behind and sides.

The impact was tremendous, with the cavalry’s mere presence forcing the enemy to respond, breaking their formation and leading to their annihilation.

This pattern was replicated across the battlefield. The defeat of the Felius-Mayard alliance was evident to Walm.

“Walm, you good?”

Jose, covered in dust and blood splatter, approached Walm with concern.

“Somewhat. I’m just extremely tired.”

“Tiredness is a sign of life.”

“Are the others okay?”

“Everyone’s fine. Barrit and Nohl look like they’re about to collapse, though. And you don’t need me to tell you about Squad Leader Duwey.”

No one would believe if they heard that Duwey, the squad leader, had fallen in battle. Walm was sure that even if he was impaled all over, he would still charge at the enemy.

As Walm tried to sit down from exhaustion, he was stopped by a familiar deep voice. It was Squad Leader Duwey.

“Don’t lie down. You won’t be able to get up again. Drink water slowly, and we’ll start pursuing in 5 minutes. After that, our job here is done.”

Yes, the battle was still ongoing. Walm took a sip of water from the flask hanging on his waist. The thirst instantly vanished, and the water quickly disappeared into his stomach.

Walm looked to his side. The body of the slain Winston Felius was wrapped in the remains of the enemy tent, guarded.

Walm had somehow survived the most challenging part, but the peak of the battle was still ahead. A fierce battle continued on the hill where Mayard had set up their position, a few kilometers away.

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“The Felius army collapsed. Already three battalions have been annihilated, and the remaining battalions are also retreating.”

“There’s also a report… Winston Felius has fallen in battle.”

“Ariand and Gary units are in full retreat, and the hill is completely surrounded.”

The death of Winston, the supreme commander of the Felius side, was enough to push the Mayard troops to the brink of despair.

The remaining Yuse Mayard tried desperately to reorganize, but the Highserk’s proud Jeyf Cavalry Battalion ruined these efforts.

The Jeyf Cavalry relentlessly attacked the flanks and rear of the units that had been holding their own against the Highserk infantry, causing their formation to collapse and be finished off by a combined force of infantry.

Yuse’s attempts at organized retreat through messengers and magical tools were futile, as the Felius troops retreating in disarray suffered less damage than those trying to retreat in an organized manner.

The Felius army had already lost over 6,000 men, with the Mayard troops also exceeding 5,000 casualties.

All that remained were 3,000 troops who had managed to flee to the hills and an infantry unit that had initially broken on the left flank. In hindsight, Yuse realized they had been intentionally trapped on the hill.

Contemplating the years of enduring and bowing to neighboring countries, Yuse felt drained of strength but persevered for his people and his only daughter.

To prevent the complete collapse of his country, Yuse had practiced scorched earth tactics in former Kanoa. Important facilities were burned down, and all portable food was moved to Mayard. The remaining grain had been burned.

Though he had accepted as many former Kanoa citizens as possible, Yuse knew from spies in the city that he was despised like a demon by the citizens remaining in the territories Highserk had taken over.

Despite being hated and resented, Yuse had reluctantly accepted Felius’s proposal for the sake of his homeland, but now he was unsure if it was the right choice.

“The attempt by Adoa unit to break through the encirclement has failed.”

The last hope of escaping the encirclement had failed. Yuse had limited options left.

He informed the city through magical tools that defeat was inevitable. Those who could escape had already started fleeing to neighboring countries.

“There’s nowhere to escape. If this continues…”

A worn-out staff officer muttered. Normally, Yuse would have reprimanded such defeatism, but the situation was decisively against them.

“…It’s over, then…”

As the encirclement tightened and the fierce attacks continued from all directions, Yuse realized that continuing the fight would only result in more senseless deaths.

“I surrender―”

Yuse’s words were drowned out by a roar. The invaders in the main camp were Highserk soldiers, bearing the flag of the city of Saria.

“Soldiers of Saria!”

Yuse’s former compatriots shouted with bloodshot eyes upon spotting him.

“There he is, the traitor Mayard!”

“Kill him, he burned down our farms and families!”

“Death to the betrayer!”

Yuse was aware of the hatred. He had practiced scorched earth tactics, leading to significant property losses and senseless violence by some soldiers, which he had punished.

It was expected. The hatred of Saria’s citizens had only amplified over five years, something Yuse hadn’t fully anticipated.

His own soldiers tried to protect him, but they couldn’t stop the frenzied Saria soldiers. Yuse, without drawing his sword, waited for his former citizens.

“Lord Mayard!”

What was the right choice? Yuse didn’t know. But his end would be the same as Winston’s.

“I’m sorry.”

There was no time to ponder to whom and for what he apologized as countless blades pierced him.

The last thing Yuse thought of was his daughter left in the city. The man who had sacrificed so many for a necessary cause, thought only of his family in the end, a selfishness he recognized as his consciousness faded.

Yuse Mayard, impaled by thirteen spears and swords, had his body lifted and displayed on top of the hill.

As the command structure of the Felius-Mayard army crumbled into chaos, it marked the final sunset of Mayard’s reign.