"Muru, we're about to enter enemy territory. Have the whole army set up camp. Send out more scouts. I want a detailed picture of the area."
"Yes, sir."
Desolace was truly a miserable place. The wind carried sand and dust that stung my face. I had no idea how the Quillboar and Centaur survived here.
"Sir, the first scouts have returned. There's a group of Quillboar on the border ahead. They look like sentries."
"Take a squad out tonight and bring back a prisoner. And take half the mages with you. Let them get a taste of blood."
"Yes, sir."
There was no cover anywhere, making it difficult to hide and even harder to launch a surprise attack. But we had mages. With only a small force, one mage casting Illusion Magic at the front of the formation was enough to conceal the raiding party.
"Mages, hold position 32 yards back. You may attack from range. Warriors, get ready. Charge!" There was no need for more words. A Sentinel squad was here to fight. Once our troops stormed into the camp, they realized things were a little different from what they had expected. The Quillboar force stationed there wasn't a squad, but a company of over a hundred. That didn't change the outcome; it only made the process take a little longer. The job was done.
"Report," Azar said calmly.
"Yes, sir. We sent out one combat squad with six mages. One wave of attacks wiped out the enemy, and we took only their company commander alive. The mages proved very useful. They can conceal our troops effectively in open terrain, and the Fireballs they cast in battle caused the enemy tremendous panic. We had no fatalities and two minor injuries, both sustained during the assault on the commander's camp."
"En, how strong was the enemy?" Azar was puzzled. How could a company commander's camp have wounded two of his elite soldiers?
"We sent an elite combat unit this time. I didn't take part in the fighting; I watched the whole thing. There was no suspense in the battle outside the camp. The Quillboar soldiers were about as strong as Warrior apprentices. I was a little surprised by the fight at the commander's camp, too. One of our soldiers was hurt, but the injury was minor, and the battle ended quickly."
"Bring that pig in!"
A moment later, a Quillboar was brought in, tied up from head to toe. He looked thoroughly terrified.
"Untie him." A guard immediately loosened the ropes. Seeing how scared the Quillboar was, nearly pissing himself, Azar grew curious and decided to tease him. He released a faint wave of pressure—and the Quillboar promptly wet himself. Smiling, he said, "Don't be nervous, my friend. If you answer a few questions, I promise I won't kill you."
"Really? All right, all right! Ask away, sir. I'll tell you everything I know."
"Why are you here?"
"We were ordered to keep an eye on the Elves, especially for news of their reinforcements. We started with just one squad. I only arrived recently, and more troops were supposed to come later. The Chieftain said that once the fighting was over, we'd become the vanguard." Azar nodded, pleased with the Quillboar's attitude, and motioned for a guard to pour him a cup of water.
"What's your position? I don't believe a company commander's bodyguard could have wounded my elite soldiers."
"My father's the Chieftain of a large tribe, and the Chieftain holds him in high regard. Our tribe's the main force in the counterattack. The Chieftain said your tribe doesn't have much fighting strength left, so if we led the attack, we could seize more spoils. The bodyguards are warriors from our tribe."
"So you're a high-ranking heir, then. Do you know why the Quillboar Chieftain went to war against us?"
"I heard my father talk about it. We live in a harsh environment, so after uniting the Quillboar tribes, the Chieftain wanted to expand outward. At first, he saw the Elves winning every battle and wanted to form an alliance, but they refused. So when the Trolls came to propose an alliance, he agreed. But he only promised to attack your supply lines and keep watch on your reinforcements."
"What about the Centaur?"
"They're in much the same situation as us, but they're savage, Bloodlust-driven, and brutal. They're not afraid of death, either, and they're powerful fighters. We used to be at war with each other all the time. We lost more than we won. This time, we're only working together temporarily because the Trolls brought us together."
"Come here and mark your camps on this map."
The Quillboar carefully marked them, then said respectfully, "Sir, that's all I know."
"En, that'll do. Your job's done. Hang this pig outside their camp!"
The Quillboar froze. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He'd told them everything! It wasn't until the guards dragged him away that he came to his senses and began shouting, "Spare me! Please, spare me!"
"I said I wouldn't kill you. I never said I'd let you go," Azar said with a wicked grin, twisting the truth. He quickly summoned the company commanders to brief them on the situation, then immediately ordered the whole army to march. The army spread out in a fan-shaped formation and headed northwest. They would kill anything that stood in their way. Their target was the Quillboar Chieftain's camp.
"Sir, our route's a little off course. And if we fight our way through the entire region, we're bound to affect the rescue," Muru quietly reminded Azar.
"Did I ever say I was going to rescue them?" A commander had to be ironhearted and accept that people would die. War meant death; sacrifice was inevitable. The only question was whether it served a purpose. The Trolls wanted to use a group of battered soldiers as bait to draw out the Elf reinforcements. But wasn't Azar doing the same thing, using them to tie down the Troll alliance? He would deal with the Quillboar first and secure his rear!
Three months later, in Wailing Caverns, Azar and the Quillboar Chieftain faced each other across the two armies. Or rather, Azar was looking down at the pig.
"Do you still want to fight?"
"Fight! Of course we're going to fight! I'll avenge my fallen kin!"
"Stop posturing. You know perfectly well that continuing the war won't do you any good. Look at how many men you've lost over the past few months. Thirty thousand, right? My army's lost fewer than five hundred." Seeing a flicker of hesitation in the Quillboar Chieftain's eyes, Azar kept up the pressure. "The Centaur are still waiting for you. If we make peace, I promise I'll kill fifty thousand of them."
"Really?" The Quillboar seemed tempted.
"Really. I've already prepared the treaty. All you have to do is sign it. We'll even give you a gift: twenty wagons of supplies, plus another wagon of treasure for you personally!"
The offer won the Chieftain over. He'd get supplies and strike at an old enemy. What could be better? Once the treaty was signed, the war between the Elves and the Quillboar came to an end.
"From where we are now, we'll bypass the junction between the Quillboar and Centaur territories, then drive straight southwest into Maraudon!"
"Sir, there's something I don't understand. I'd like to ask you about it." At the sound of the voice, everyone turned toward the speaker. Azar looked up, too. The one who had spoken was an Elf woman, a centurion. She met his gaze with a resolute expression.
"Go ahead, Daphne. I'm glad you asked a question, but I want to stress one thing: you may offer suggestions while a battle plan is being made. Once the plan has been issued, everyone must follow orders without question!" Azar's sharp gaze swept across every face in the room. His tone was stern.
"I think this plan will lead to a lot of needless casualties. Could we make use of the Quillboar?" Daphne asked earnestly.
"That's an excellent idea. The stones of other mountains can polish jade. She's got promise." Azar had already formed a very favorable impression of Daphne.
"Your idea is excellent. It coincides with my plan. Guards, heed my command: impose first-degree security within fifty meters of the command tent!"
At Azar's order, everyone immediately became alert and watched him closely.
"I'm pleased that someone had the courage to question the commander today. Daphne's question was well thought out, which shows how much effort she's put into studying this war. Whether someone does a good job is a matter of ability; whether they're willing to do the job is a matter of attitude. I hereby order Daphne to hand over command of her thousand-person unit to her deputy and take up the post of my adjutant!"
"Yes, sir!" The happiness had come so suddenly that Daphne hadn't even had time to react. She answered mechanically. Everyone looked at her with envy. Azar ignored them and continued, "Since the campaign began, everyone's assumed that we meant to rescue Zhakun's remaining forces and hold on to the territory we've already occupied. But my actual plan is to use Zhakun's forces as bait, then defeat the Trolls, Centaur, and Quillboar one by one!"
Azar was full of confidence, his words ringing with conviction. The others reacted in different ways. Some were surprised, while others pondered his plan. Sophia, however, looked excited. The difference in command talent was already becoming clear. Anyone who worked hard, had a good teacher, and fought often could quickly improve their individual combat strength. But whether they could become a top expert depended on talent and luck. The same was true of command. Daphne's reaction alone was enough to show that she had a gift for strategy—a natural staff officer. If her character and temperament were good, Azar would be happy to take on another apprentice.
Daphne, today was your lucky day.
Before you continue