Rise of the Horde
221 Chapter 221
Yohan's entire army was on its way to clash with the remainder of the expeditionary force which was sent by the Prince of Ereia to establish a foothold in the lands of the orcs while the bulk of the Eriean army was stationed at the borders of Alberna. It appears that the Ereians Prince was using his massive army to threaten the neighboring kingdom into submission.
"What is that headache of Prince up to now? I could understand him seizing the opportunity and employing such an army to expand the kingdom, but... Why have we been holed up here for months without even a proper battle with the enemies? Don't even get me started on the comical skirmishes that we had with our enemies." Commander Nassor voiced out what he had in mind as he angrily slammed back his cup against the table, shattering the fragile cup
"Sigh... Whatever plan he has, it won't help us or the soldiers. Scouts have reported that Alberna is amassing a large number of mercenaries to fight their war in addition to their standing army. The number of mercenaries wasn't a threat if they only recruited those from their own lands, but reports indicated that they also recruited those from neighboring kingdoms."
They outnumbered their adversaries by a large margin, which gave them confidence if war broke out. Despite the fact that the Ereian Royal Army, Sandstorm Cavalry, and Royal Cavalry are not with them. The casualties and those who fled the battlefield totalled nearly fifteen thousand as a result of their clash with the invading monsters, but they still had a sizable army that surpassed the twenty thousand mark after receiving some fresh blood.
"The harvest season is approaching, but with so many farmers here, I doubt we will receive our supplies by the stated date in the prince's letters," Viscount Redore said, leaning back in his chair and muttering something inaudible. His mutterings were incomprehensible to those present, but they all assumed he was cursing at the prince with every cuss word he knew.
The atmosphere around the table was so full of disappointment and rage that ordinary soldiers avoided gatherings of nobles and commanders for fear of becoming their target for venting their rage on the prince.
The sound of hooves drew the attention of everyone inside the camp as the rider made his way to where the commanders were. The rider's clothes were stained with blood, and on his back was an arrow that he didn't bother to remove because he needed to report what they had discovered.
The rider slid off his horse and fell to the ground as he approached the commanders. A scream of pain escaped his lips as the stinging sensation from his wounds reminded him of his predicament. He gritted his teeth and stumbled forward, bringing out a letter from their squad's leader, which he doubted to be still alive.
Commander Nassor advanced and accepted the letter while supporting the messenger's body, who was struggling to breathe. As he brought the letter to the table and unfolded it to read its contents, he called for the healers to hurry and treat the rider's wounds.
His brows knitted together after reading the middle section of the letter. He passed the letter to the others to read while he considered what had emboldened their enemies to launch an attack against them.
A few moments later, another rider made his way towards Commander Nassor and the others, but this time the rider was in good shape, albeit a little tired. His clothes were still intact, implying that he was one of a noble's messengers.
"I bring a message from the capital! Commander Nassor, come forward and receive His Majesty, King Gyassi Vinna's decree!" the messenger exclaimed loudly after catching his breath. He stood above his steed, looking down on everyone in the camp.
His demeanor and actions quickly drew the ire of those present, and he was dragged from his steed by a strong arm. The messenger fell to the ground and landed heavily on his back because he wasn't prepared to be dismounted forcefully. He groaned in pain and was about to curse the person who had tarnished his image as the Royal Messenger when a spear impaled right beside his face, missing his right cheek by a few centimeters. The haughty messenger trembled as something leaked from his pants and stained the ground, and an unpleasant odor could be detected emanating from his crotch.
"Disrespect us again, and I'll make sure you don't just leak piss, but blood!" Commander Kontar snorted angrily as he returned the spear, but not before stepping on one of the messenger's hands and retreating beside Commander Nassor.
The rider rose to his feet and took the letter entrusted to him from his bag. His hands trembled as he handed the letter to those who were staring at him with amusement. He simply had to be arrogant at the wrong time, wrong place, and at the wrong people.
"You are a newly appointed Royal Messenger, am I correct?" Commander Karim asked, gulping a mouthful of ale straight from the jar.
"In response to the respected commander's question, this lowly one is but a new Royal Messenger appointed by His Majesty," the messenger replied with his head bowed as he was afraid of making another mistake that would result in his head being lobbed off and they would simply report to the king that he was ambushed along the way, such occurrences were rare but they had happened before and he had no plans of experiencing the same fate.
He was just a humble servant in the Royal Palace who aspired to be someone great when he was unexpectedly appointed as the King's Royal Messenger. The new position and power that he had unexpectedly gained went to his head as he bossed around his peers inside the palace. He had previously been harassing a new female servant whom he had developed feelings for when he was unexpectedly summoned to deliver a letter.
"We have received His Majesty's Decree; proceed now before someone changes his mind and adds a few more holes in your body," Commander Nassor said after receiving the decree in his hands. The messenger jumped onto his mount and whipped it even harder than before, forcing his steed to sprint away. The poor man looked like his ass was on fire as he rushed out of the camp as quickly as possible.
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