Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

Of course, the Herder standard-bearer wouldn't pass up this opportunity and thrust his sword directly forward.

Winters, from above, struck down, knocking the enemy's saber askew, stepped forward, twisted his wrist and flicked, slicing open his opponent's neck.

The Herder standard-bearer's counterstroke was blocked by the breastplate; he couldn't believe it as he clutched his wound, staggering back until he collapsed in a corner of the wall.

A simple smack and a flick, two movements, were all it took to claim the life of the Herder standard-bearer.

Having dealt with the standard-bearer, Winters leaped onto the parapet, pulled out the horse-tail battle flag, and his voice, amplified by magic, echoed across the battlefield, "Come on! Look over here!"

No matter whether they understood or not, everyone's gaze was involuntarily drawn to the figure on the city wall.

Winters roared and snapped the horse-tail battle flag in two, hurling it down the wall.

"Long live!" The Paratu People shouted fervently, "Victory!"

The morale of the Herders completely collapsed, receding like a tide, with even the enforcers unable to stop them.

...

...

Late at night, the temporary camp of the Terdun Tribe.

Calling it a temporary camp was actually just a wind-sheltered slope.

The yurts of the Terdun Tribe, horses, food, and drink had been burned down to the ground by the Paratu People—truly down to the ground.

Aside from the food and blankets they carried on their person, they now had nothing.

Those who were indignant just to fight could now taste the bitter fruit.

Even he didn't have a tent, and other Herders could only wrap themselves in their cloaks and sleep on the ground.

Luckily, the Herders were resilient by nature, plus they were exhausted after a day of hard fighting. So without being fussy about their sleeping spots, they all fell into a deep slumber.

The Fire-Raiser didn't rest; the rage in his chest not only hadn't extinguished but had grown even more intense.

The Chiliarchs of the Terdun Tribe sat around a bonfire, discussing their next move.

"Herde Language Khan," a sagacious Chiliarch carefully advised, "Herde Language Relying solely on mare's milk won't do, why don't we go to the Red River Tribe to ask for food, then turn back to retrieve the sacral golden idol."

"Herde Language Fire-Raiser, I agree with seeking out the Red River Tribe," another Chiliarch said discontentedly, "Herde Language With all the horses and warriors we've lost, the Red River Tribe should make amends!"

"Herde Language We can't keep fighting anyway!" added another Chiliarch, with snow-white temples and a corpulent belly, his tone particularly vicious, "Herde Language If we fight on, we'll all be done for! Had the old Khan been here, he would never have waged such a wasteful war!"

The Chiliarchs spoke harsher words one after another, but in reality, those who were willing to speak were the Fire-Raiser's loyal supporters, that snow-white temples, corpulent bellied Chiliarch especially being the Fire-Raiser's own uncle.

The allied chieftains had shifty eyes and were reluctant to commit themselves, in fact already considering their next moves.

The Fire-Raiser stared hard at the dancing flames, silent as ever.

The sound of hoofbeats approached swiftly, and a messenger found the Fire-Raiser.

The emissary bowed respectfully and presented a gilded horn, "Herde Language Blood of the Golden Ones, Terdun Fire-Raiser, I bring to you a gift and a message from the Red River Tribe's Little Lion."

[Note: The Herders have a custom of presenting gifts, and emissaries never arrive empty-handed]

"Herde Language The White Lion's brother?" Fire-Raiser took the gilded horn and scoffed coldly, "Herde Language Speak!"

"Herde Language The Little Lion charged me to tell you, with a great battle impending, we shouldn't be dividing our forces. He invites you to join forces with him, willing to share everything in cup, plate, and bowl. As for previous spoils of war, he is willing to share half with you. Future spoils will all be yours to choose first."

The Fire-Raiser's face turned ashen, throwing the horn into the fire, "Herde Language Am I supposed to feel pity from the White Lion's brother?"

He clenched the scabbard in his left hand tightly, his teeth grinding aloud.

Seeing the Fire-Raiser's current expression, the allied Chiliarchs trembled in their boots, buried their heads in their knees.

Even the Fire-Raiser's own uncle now dared not touch this hot potato.

Suddenly, a voice with a slight accent came from beside the fire, "Herde Language The Little Lion is right, with a great battle looming, we indeed should not divide our forces."

The speaker used a stick to pull the gilded horn out of the bonfire and offered it back to the Fire-Raiser.

When Fire-Raiser saw who was speaking, his ashen face slowly reddening, he surprisingly refrained from lashing out with his sword.

If Winters had seen this scene, he would have been astonished, for it was the old Translator who had managed to soothe the Fire-Raiser.

"Herde Language What do you say we should do?" the Fire-Raiser asked respectfully.

"Herde Language Go find the Red River Tribe, and then…" The old Translator began but abruptly fell silent.

He suddenly stood up, listening attentively before glaring at the messenger, "Herde Language You brought men with you! Does the Red River Tribe want to swallow us whole?"

"Herde Language No! Impossible!" the Red River Tribe's emissary denied desperately, alarmed.

However, it wasn't just the old Translator; the other Chiliarchs also heard the sound of hoofbeats.
Continue reading on My Virtual Library Empire

And it wasn't just one or two horses; there were at least a hundred rapidly closing in.

"Herde Language Enemy attack!" the Fire-Raiser kicked over the bonfire and bellowed, "Herde Language Enemy attack!"

The Chiliarchs of the Terdun Tribe immediately ran towards their own people's resting ground.

In the distance, a harsh cry mingled with the sound of hooves, "Herde Language Defeated! Defeated! Our army is defeated! The Fire-Raiser is dead!"

The cry in Herde language was very awkward, obviously something recently learned.

"Herde Language Aaahhhhhhhhh!!!" the Fire-Raiser screamed frantically, "Herde Language Two-legged creatures! Despicable! I will kill them!"