The Vastness of Magical Destiny
Chapter 965: Volume 31: A Hand Trying to Cover the Sky, - 9: Internal Strife

Chapter 965: Volume 31: A Hand Trying to Cover the Sky, Chapter 9: Internal Strife

Montrey and Woodleigh watched the positions ahead with a heavy heart, the bitter taste swirling between them.

The low-lying plains in front had become a graveyard burying the most elite warriors of both sides. In just a week since the battle began, more than eight thousand warriors had closed their eyes forever on this land. The thick scent of blood filled every gap in the land, and the ditches and pits behind were piled with the corpses of valiant warriors. If it weren’t for the early winter season, the threat of plague alone would have been enough to destroy a race.

Although the warriors of the Caron and Cabo tribes, as well as the Sanya Tribe, held a certain advantage in equipment and weapons, there was no doubt that their opponents were superior in numbers and combat strength. The allied forces of the two Car tribes and the Sanya Tribe were still at a disadvantage when facing the allied forces of the Carlo Tribe and the Sanwa Tribe.

Two Thunder Pengs cried mournfully as they swept across the sky, seemingly searching for winged companions that had fallen; an Earthwalking Dragon, staggering, struggled to move in the shrubbery at the edge of the lowlands, confused about the direction of its own camp after the desperate struggle that had lasted over three hours. Meanwhile, logistic personnel from both sides began to gather corpses and retrieve the severely wounded who were still alive, clearing the battlefield for the next war.

The same warriors, the same mounts, the same air attacks—the most intense and brutal Great War since the barbarians’ internal strife had begun finally came to an end.

This looked like another evenly matched battle. Judging only by the losses, the number of those killed and critically wounded was roughly equal on both sides. Both had committed over fifteen thousand main infantry to this massive engagement, but neither side achieved its desired outcome. Over six thousand corpses lay haphazardly across the field, while the occasional moan of a barely alive soldier proved he still drew breath.

The reserves of both parties had entered battle readiness to prevent the opponent from launching a surprise attack, but in reality, both sides also realized that another battle would end just like the scene before them.

"Montrey, if we keep this up, we won’t hold out," Woodleigh said heavily. "The Sanwa Tribe has already conscripted all the able-bodied men in their tribe, and the Carlo Tribe is carrying out the final full mobilization. If we don’t follow suit, we’ll be defeated and become their slaves."

Woodleigh was in a bad mood; he had hoped to effectively curb the attacks of the Carlo and Sanwa tribes with their superior equipment and weapons while drawing the Carter Tribe to their side. But the determination of the Carlo and Sanwa tribes was unexpectedly strong, even to the point of risking a total commitment, and so far, the Carter Tribe had only mobilized for war without clearly showing their leanings, an ominous sign.

"Then let’s also fully mobilize!" Montrey snapped angrily, "We absolutely cannot fail!"

"And what if we win? Our tribes will be drained of able-bodied men, and it will take twenty years to recover. What meaning does such a victory have?" Woodleigh replied grimly.

"So we just surrender?" Montrey said resentfully.

"I think we should perhaps retreat," Woodleigh said coldly.

"Retreat?! Retreat to where? Once we retreat we’ll never find a more suitable defensive position than now, and we’ll lose the trade routes to the Flanders region!" Montrey couldn’t help but shout, feeling something had gone awry in Woodleigh’s mind.

"So what if we lose it! We have accumulated enough supplies, and losing control of this trade route for a period of time won’t have much of an impact. But if we let the Carlo and Sanwa tribes take control of this trade route, they’ll find they can attack and capture the Gdansk fortress to enter the Flanders Valley. That could even be easier than fighting a war with us to get enough supplies," Woodleigh stated coldly.

"Are you suggesting we lead the Carlo and Sanwa tribes towards the Flanders Valley? To make them fight there?" Montrey swallowed, hesitantly asking.

"Why not? Komer betrayed us first. He promised to provide us with enough help, but what has he given us so far? Where is his army? Where are the mages?" Woodleigh’s expression became somewhat fierce.

"Woodleigh, we never truly expected him to send an actual army to help us, right? These mortals have always hoped that we, the mountain people, would fight each other to mutual destruction so they could reap the benefits. Do they think we’re unaware of their intentions?" Montrey paused for a moment before continuing with a faint smile. "We merely hoped he would provide us with more supplies. To be fair, Komer has largely met our requests. What we didn’t foresee was the Carlo Tribe and the Sanwa Tribe mobilizing all their forces for a battle with us. They are draining the swamp to fish, and if things go south, the ultimately benefiting party might be the Carter Tribe, which has remained silent all this time."

This revelation made Woodleigh reassess the seemingly impulsive and brute leader of the Caron Tribe. He’d always thought that Montrey had ascended to his position purely based on his martial power and had little regard for the chief’s intellect. Often, he’d even considered issues from the standpoint of exploiting the situation. Now, however, it seemed that those who became chiefs of these large tribes possess intelligence far beyond mediocrity. At least in their understanding of the North’s stance on this matter, their insights were remarkably profound and keen.

"Montrey, with the situation having come to this, we can only retreat. Otherwise, once the opponent’s reinforcements catch up, we will have a hard time escaping. We can’t worry about others now. As the lord of Flanders, Komer cannot expect us to help him defend it. If he overlooks this point, then he can only blame his own carelessness. We never promised anything."

"We have no choice but to do so now. I only hope Komer is prepared. It’s not that we don’t want to help them; we’re just powerless to do so." Montrey said faintly.

The retreat of the Sanya Tribe and the joint forces of the two Car tribes caught the Carlo and Sanwa allied tribes by surprise. The two sides had been contesting this lowland for over a week. To be precise, the Carlo and Sanwa allied tribes hadn’t gained any advantage, but their opponents withdrew without reason, retreating over two hundred kilometers and even relinquishing control of the traffic lines leading to the Flanders Region.

After meticulous scouting and cautious probing, the locust-like joint forces of the Carlo and Sanwa Tribes quickly swept in, their formidable edge reaching the very foot of Gdansk Fortress.

Ilot had not anticipated Montrey and Woodleigh would retreat without even a signal and suddenly exposed the gateway to the Flanders Valley to their opponents. It was a malicious move, diverting trouble southward and forcing those who had wanted to stay out of the fray to confront the enemy’s blade directly.

Given the temperament of the Carlo and Sanwa tribes, they would undoubtedly not pass up the opportunity to open such a door leading to a treasure trove like Gdansk Fortress. The fortress’s defense system now was nowhere near as solid as it used to be under Iberian control, neither in scale nor in defensive force. Perhaps the only difference was the defenders themselves.

The rapid change in the situation caught Ilot off guard. He hadn’t even had time to communicate with the Caron and Cabo tribes when the situation progressed to this stage. It was clear that Komer’s earlier hope that the barbarians would wear each other down was seen through. Barbarians are not fools, especially Montrey and Woodleigh, who cunningly dragged everyone else into the mire.

A force of less than three thousand trying to hold a defensive battle against an opponent with more than ten times their number was foreseeable. No matter how potent the magic power, no matter how formidable the knights regiment, in the face of the current fragile defense system of Gdansk Fortress, it’s possible their advantages won’t get a chance to manifest before the fortress falls.

"Damn Montrey and Woodleigh, those two are too malicious." Ilot hadn’t expected his first sole command in war to be such a dire situation. Not even the most optimistic and confident Dragumo believed that they could win in such circumstances. Without the help of the barbarians, the war had lost its meaning.

"What do I do?" After contemplating for a long while, Ilot could only sigh and break the seal on the wax pellet Komer had prepared for him before departure. It wounded his pride, but the situation could no longer be delayed. Victory, by any means, had to be better than defeat, even if the war was completely manipulated by Komer.

After silently reading the content of the secret message in the wax pellet, Ilot could finally breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed everything was within expectation. Komer had everything under control, nothing more than a redistribution of gains and losses. Ilot had to admit that compared to his former comrade, he was no longer on the same level in any respect. Had staying in the North fortress for two years made so much less of an impact compared to Komer’s two years of exile?

The same starting point, but with the slightest deviation on the wheel of fate, outcomes change. (To be continued... For the continuation, please visit www.qidian.com. More Chapters, support the author, support authorized reading!)