Minotaur

"It really is shaking," Gunther said, then simply lay down and pressed his ear to the ground. A moment later, he gestured for Hert to come and listen too.

"We centaurs can't lie down like that," Hert said, standing outside with a troubled expression.

Richard returned the candy to the Dwarf who was on the verge of tears from losing, not forgetting to warn Robbie that if he dared to gamble again, he'd be in for a beating.

"Let's go, High Mountain Keep is assembling everyone," he said, patting the dust from his backside, and led the way to the Dwarf warriors' camp.

Their movements startled the guards on duty, who asked in confusion, "My lord, is something amiss?"

Suddenly, a few deep, powerful horn blasts echoed from the arrow tower not far away. "Enemy attack!" a sentry shouted frantically.

The camp, which had been in slumber, quickly woke up, and for a moment, only the chaotic sound of footsteps could be heard. The Dwarf warriors hadn't removed their armor when they slept, and their weapons were kept under their pillows, so they could quickly prepare for battle upon waking.

It was already a bit dim, or rather, it was the so-called "most overlooked and relaxing moment before dawn." However, the lord felt this statement was probably nonsense. He saw that the Dwarf sentries had been rotating on time and maintained a high level of vigilance.

"Who's coming this time?" Richard couldn't be bothered with Robbie and spoke directly to the oldest warrior among the Dwarves.

This elder's name was Sendak. Since the current chieftain was a beardless youth, he effectively served as the tribe's highest military commander.

Sendak exchanged a few gestures with the sentry on the arrow tower before turning to Richard and saying, "The Bloodhoof Tribe."

"Minotaur?" The lord remembered this tribe well because it had been emphasized many times when he exchanged intelligence with Annie.

"Yes." It was usually hard to discern any emotional fluctuations on a Dwarf's stony face, but even a blind person could see the seriousness on the old Dwarf's face now.

Minotaurs, also known as Ox-men, are a relatively rare race in the wilderness. Their overall appearance can be seen as intelligent, upright-walking yellow oxen.

In this regard, they differ from other demi-humans. Whether they are Bearfolk or Werewolves, they resemble humans more than beasts, whereas Minotaurs resemble beasts more than humans.

Although their appearance is so strikingly similar to yellow oxen, their nature is anything but docile. In fact, they are a very, very brutal race.

Minotaurs are carnivorous, passionate about war and slaughter, and most members spend their entire lives either fighting or on their way to fight.

These alone are not enough to make them stand out among the powers of the wilderness. What is truly crucial is that adult Minotaurs are super strong men, standing three blades tall and weighing nearly a thousand pounds!

Purely from a physical standpoint, they are naturally the best heavy infantry. However, Minotaurs have a fatal flaw: their discipline is extremely poor. Once they enter a combat state, they enter a state known as the "Semi-Berserk State."

In the Semi-Berserk State, the already terrifying strength and endurance of the Minotaur are further enhanced, turning them into tireless killing machines. Unfortunately, advantages always come with disadvantages; the fighting spirit that fills their brains also makes them completely uncontrollable.

This is a fatal flaw on a large army scale. Not only do they fall into chaos themselves, but they also break up friendly formations. Several human generals who tried to tame Minotaurs suffered the bitter taste of defeat because of this.

However, if limited to the scale of tribal conflicts, this characteristic is not a flaw; it can even be seen as an advantage, because their opponents often have no discipline to speak of anyway anyway.

"How do you plan to deal with them?" Richard was very curious.

If two of these squat Dwarf warriors stood on top of each other, they'd still have to jump to be as tall as a Minotaur. Logically, even with some equipment advantage, they shouldn't stand a chance.

But the fact that the Dwarf tribe had held out for so long without being breached was enough to show that they certainly weren't helpless; otherwise, Minotaurs would be living here now.

"Minotaurs are very impulsive. A little bit of bait might make them single out," Sendak said, as if telling Richard, but also as if muttering to himself to steel his resolve. "Then our Dwarf warriors will have the chance to swarm them and take them down!"

"…" The lord's forehead broke out in a waterfall of sweat. He felt that the "little bit of bait" and "swarming them" steps might not be as easy as they sounded.

"And they're too tall. Unless they bend over, it's hard to hit us," Robbie said, having just come out of the house, adding the comment.

Imagining a Minotaur struggling to bend over in battle, the lord unconsciously twitched his lips twice. Gunther and Hert also leaned against each other, shaking with laughter.

"General Hert, you're too tall. I'm afraid you're in danger today," Gunther said with a serious face.

"General Gunther, you're not short either," Hert retorted, unwilling to be outdone.

Richard was truly impressed. To go to such lengths to protect the so-called "divinely bestowed minerals"—only stubborn Dwarves could do it.

From High Mountain Keep's perspective, of course, they hoped the Dwarves would hold out as long as possible. But if he put himself in their shoes, Richard could no longer quite understand this persistence. Dwarves should know the principle that if the land survives but the people perish, then both people and land perish.

"How many warriors do they have?" Richard raised his telescope and looked in the direction indicated by the sentry.

"Over forty, I'd say," Sendak replied. "There were almost sixty originally, but we took out more than a dozen. Plus, they have a few hundred Goatfolk auxiliaries."

Richard lowered the telescope. A telescope could only see far, not act as night vision, so anything too far away was still unclear in the current light conditions.

But he didn't have to wait long; soon, everyone could see some blurry dark figures approaching in the distance.

From such a distance, it was hard to intuitively grasp the Minotaurs' strength. Only when seeing the surrounding Goatfolk could one, by the contrast with the smaller beings, suddenly realize how enormous those dark figures truly were.

"Well, these guys are certainly massive," Richard said, looking quite relaxed compared to the nervous Dwarves around him, as if he didn't realize what a terrifying enemy the Minotaurs truly were.

"How many arrows do our ballistas have left?" Robbie suddenly turned to look at the arrow tower.

The sentry responded quickly: "Chieftain, only six left."

Richard and Sendak exchanged a look, both seeing helplessness in the other's eyes.

Robbie was truly too green—ammunition reserves should never be discussed publicly, to avoid negatively impacting morale.

Now even the lowest-ranking soldiers knew that their own ballistas would become useless after only a few shots. The likelihood that they would be pleased about this was probably, perhaps, eighty percent not very high.

"Lord Richard, please have your troops serve as the reserve assault team. We Dwarves will do our best to divide and hold off their pressure."

Upon hearing this, the lord couldn't help but feel a sense of solemn respect—this old man was a decent person. He didn't want his allied reinforcements to bear the task of directly engaging the Minotaurs, even though that would almost certainly be the phase with the heaviest casualties.