Crimson Sun Guard (Part 2)

Shane's troops grew increasingly different from other ranger units in their training and tactics. The clang of steel, longbows, and heavy arrows became their main refrain. To distinguish them from other ranger forces, Halduron Brightwing and several core rangers formed an organization under the Red Sun White Tower.

"We are the Crimson Sun Guard," they declared loudly.

Shane watched them quietly. Whatever their reasons, the fact that they had come to the Red Sun White Tower rather than Silvermoon City showed that they had goals they wished to pursue, one way or another. With those aspirations, they took root and flourished within the Red Sun White Tower.

"Such tiny saplings. One gust of wind and they'll fall over," Halduron sometimes mocked himself.

Shane would laugh at him. "I'll water and fertilize you. Little saplings, hurry up and grow. Someone is already getting impatient."

"Could you water us a little more often?"

"Mm... that's a good suggestion, but wouldn't too much watering drown you? Even if it didn't drown you, it would exhaust the one doing the watering!"

In the final stages of their expedition preparations, Firehawk was crafting enchanted arrowheads. Each arrowhead was enchanted with Sharpening, while the heavy arrows received an additional small explosive effect. Not everyone possessed the godlike ranger skills of Sylvanas and her elite subordinates.

Red potions, blue potions, bandages, and food waited in the mage tower warehouse to be loaded onto carts. The required supplies cost no small sum. Bill after bill was sent to Silvermoon City, and gold coins flowed into the Red Sun White Tower like a stream.

Firehawk was the happiest of all. With an arm around each of his two attendants, he said, "Once this battle is over, we can get married."

Shane quietly gave him a nickname: Lucky Firehawk. The Red Sun White Tower had begun to get on track through its "policies," earning 5,000 gold from alchemical items and enchanted arrowheads. Their knowledge had also grown. Aside from Shane, the other two had not wasted their spare time either. In the library's arcane magic section, second-circle spells now filled an entire bookshelf. Every spellbook reproduced what the three had learned and summarized their experience, and each volume bore their signatures at the end.

"Creak, creak..." Shane's reclining chair stubbornly clung to life. A female elf had been ravaging it rather often lately.

Sylvanas was in a very bad mood, and Shane knew why. They had both received orders urging them onward, with an unmistakable implication that they had to surpass Dawnblade. That had infuriated her.

"What do they take the front lines for? A tool for throwing tantrums and brawling? If I find out who's fanning the flames, I'll make them understand the meaning of a fight very deeply."

There were only two people in the room. When Sylvanas spoke, Shane usually listened quietly. The female elf crossed her legs and propped them on the small tea table. The chair beneath her rocked up and down, and she did not care in the slightest that she was showing Shane her rounded thighs, pale skin extending all the way to their roots.

"I've finished the plan. Take a look. We should return in ten days."

A map lay spread across the tea table, its edges yellowed with age.

"How old is this map?" Shane asked.

"Three hundred years."

"That old?"

"Yes, that old. I dug it out of a pile of waste paper at ranger headquarters. The arcanists of Silvermoon City have created countless miracles. Their greatest miracle was not burning the waste-paper pile."

"Why do you have a grudge against arcanists?" Shane asked. He knew Sylvanas was not the sort to take out her anger on others.

"I have no grudge against arcanists. I only have a grudge against Dawnblade." Sylvanas glared at Shane as she spoke.

Shane immediately raised the white flag and studied the map. He vaguely recalled something: the curator of the old archives at game headquarters had been a Dawnblade arcane caster, and the family had celebrated over it for quite some time.

"User, being suppressed in terms of presence will not be conducive to maintaining a dominant position in the future household. According to Animal Reproduction Studies, males should be more assertive in order to produce more offspring."

"Shut up."

The Eye of Truth also raised the white flag.

Two arrows were marked on the map, representing Sylvanas's rangers and Shane's troops respectively. Their forces would advance toward Zul'Aman from the north and south, march for six days, meet in the middle, and then return.

"We'll split up to make use of my mobility," Sylvanas said.

"When do we leave?"

"Three days from now."

Upon learning they were going on campaign, Shane's rangers were excited and expectant. The first battle to make their name known was about to begin. Halduron and the others made a banner for their guard: a white tower protected by a bow and a longsword. They also asked Shane to fly the Red Sun White Tower's banner.

"Use a blue background with the outline of the Red Sun White Tower on it," Shane replied after giving it some thought.

Solarian unexpectedly knew how to sew, and she embroidered the banner within three days. The main banner was mounted on Taigo's left shoulder, while the ranger banner was entrusted to the standard-bearer for protection. If Shane ever became an important figure, he could also fly his own personal banner. Just as the prince of Silvermoon City flew both the elven royal banner and his own prince's banner wherever he went.

On the day the troops departed, Sylvanas led her forces out first, and Shane followed shortly afterward. Only he and Firehawk were mages in the party; Solarian stayed behind to guard the mage tower. There were sixty rangers: thirty rode constructs, while thirty rode hawkstriders.

They set out in the morning and crossed the blockade in the afternoon. The stench of hex magic gradually thickened. Hawkins Firehawk covered his nose and coughed. The odor, perceptible only to spellcasters, made him deeply uncomfortable. As they passed a river, specks of green light could even be seen in its waters. Troll blood sacrifices and cannibalistic traditions, coupled with hex magic, were polluting this land.

The stench of hex magic was even fouler than when they had slaughtered the valley trolls last time. Shane frowned almost the entire way. Even after they made camp that night, they had not encountered a single troll, only several abandoned camps.

The trolls had withdrawn far too thoroughly. No attack came during the night, and they still encountered no trolls on the second day of marching. Shane increasingly felt that things were not so simple.

On the afternoon of the third day, they finally found their first troll camp. It had been built atop a small hill and was surrounded by a wooden wall. From below the hill, they could see troll warriors sitting behind the wall, prepared for battle. Inside, a stench of hex magic billowed outward like smoke from an incinerator.

"One hundred and sixty warriors, four spellcasters, five hundred and sixty civilians."

The Eye of Truth stirred, constructing a complete view in Shane's mind. Every troll was represented by a point of light on the map. Judging by their positions, they intended to defend the gate to the death.

By then, the ranger unit had already formed up in an attacking formation, awaiting only the order.

"Wait until I suppress their spellcasters first," Shane told Halduron, who had come to seek instructions.

Arcane energy gathered in his hand, forming a Pyroblast. After long practice, it had been compressed to the size of a dinner plate. Golden-orange flames radiated heat, warping the air two meters in front of him.

He launched it. The fireball streaked through the air in a golden trail, leaving a bright dark-red afterimage visible to the naked eye as it shrieked toward the camp gate.

The Pyroblast exploded, flames shooting into the sky, but green light flashed over the gate and blocked the attack.

"Spell detected. Effect: resistance and absorption."

Since entering the Ghostlands, this was the fourth time he had seen the trolls' protective green light. He knew its properties well enough. A second Pyroblast blasted toward it and was still blocked. The third continued the bombardment. The maximized Pyroblast destroyed far more efficiently than the defense could withstand. On the fourth shot, the gate exploded. Fragments flew more than ten meters into the air, flames engulfed a ten-meter area, and the heat ignited the wooden wall. In the complete view, one point representing a troll spellcaster dimmed, while the other three rapidly fled a considerable distance away.

"You may attack now," Shane said, his magically amplified voice reaching every ranger's ears.

The ranger banner swayed as the standard-bearer carried it from the left side of the formation to the right. Under Halduron's command, the banner tilted forward, and the attack began. Hawkins Firehawk cast spell after spell, applying armor enhancement, increased magic resistance, Haste, and Arcane Brilliance in succession.

Ten constructs formed a line and advanced up the hill. The trolls hurled javelins and flying axes, but they could not damage the constructs' armor at all. The rangers retaliated with heavy arrows. The enchanted arrows pierced the breastwork in an instant and exploded atop it, clearing away the trolls defending there.

"Ram them! Ram them!"

"We are the White Tower's blades!"

"Ram them! Ram them!"

"We are the vanguard in heavy armor!"

The rangers sang a battle hymn on the battlefield. Sixty rangers sang together, and Shane smiled in understanding.

Boom! Boom! As the distance closed, the constructs did not alter course and pressed directly against the wooden wall. Several constructs used battering rams to strike it. Every blow punched a hole through the wall. After several strikes, they shoved down the section before them and charged in over corpses and splintered wood. Several other constructs rushed through the gate without stopping and drove toward the rear of the camp. Heavy arrows continuously fired from atop them into the densest clusters of trolls. Soon, explosions and flames erupted throughout the camp.

Shane controlled Taigo to move forward while waving the main banner. The lightly armored rangers rode their hawkstriders into the camp, and the battle entered the head-harvesting phase.

Taigo drove into the camp. Not far from the gate lay a charred troll spellcaster. Pure energy had been detected on it. The other three could not evade the Eye of Truth's detection either. They were dragged out, their bodies studded with wood splinters and marked by burns, carrying a scorched stench.

"Cut off their heads," Shane ordered. Rangers drew short blades and severed the heads.

"Eye of Truth, absorb the pure energy."

"Understood. Absorbing. Memories detected. Absorb?"

"Absorb them."

"Yes. Toxic portions excluded. The quantity is harmless. Beginning absorption."

The memories belonged to a bear. A gluttonous bear, a covetous bear, a greedy bear. The trolls had lured it with power, and it accepted the blood sacrifice, ultimately ending up like Dulles the dragonhawk. After watching it all, Shane felt only mockery for the fool.

Energy entered him. His spiritual space was expanded and nourished. The effect was far inferior to when he was at the fourth circle, but that was within his expectations. A "god" deceived by trolls could only be so strong.

"User, if you wish to meet the advancement requirements, you must absorb an equivalent amount of energy at least ten times."

"I understand."

Within the camp, Shane found the source of the hex magic's stench: a massive voodoo cauldron. Green slime bubbled within it, and a chunk of flesh floated on the surface.

"What is that? Eye of Truth, examine it." Shane sensed traces of power within it.

"Examining. It is bear meat."