(Third-person perspective)
Yarick led 1,500 cavalrymen through the dense forest, navigating narrow paths between the trees. To adapt to the limited width of the forest trails, the cavalrymen were organized into smaller columns, advancing cautiously, each rider maintaining their position within the ranks. The necessity of column movement restricted their speed and agility, but Yarick remained focused on outflanking the Mountain Clans.
The forest was a winding, secluded path, Entangle bushes, making it a challenging terrain for the cavalry. As they advanced at a moderate pace, the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed through the woods. He had sent out a scout team ahead to kill any sentries they might encounter, thus delaying their discovery as long as possible. Yarick was proud of himself for having thought of all this, and he could feel victory within his grasp.
The forest concealed their movements, Yarick's cavalry advanced silently, choosing a route that would allow them to appear on the flanks of the unsuspecting Mountain Clans. A scout returned to report to him.
"Sir, it seems they've withdrawn all their sentries; our battle line extends right to their flank."
Yarick said with a smile.
"Haha, so this is the barbarian's understanding of war you expected. Now, we can quicken our pace; there's no need for silence any longer. Let's go and show those barbarians our might!"
Just as he was filled with excitement, he heard screams and shouts coming from behind them. They were under attack, but how could this be?
Aermir and his 1,000-strong force emerged from the cave; they were right behind Yarick's troops. Aermir fully enchanted himself and 200 of his men, who were ready to charge; in this battle, he could not play the Druid. Therefore, he disguised himself as a mountain warrior and used...
Shapeshifting
For the next hour, he was unable to cast spells, but his body was filled with power. Now, he possessed 35 Strength and 22 Speed; he was almost as strong as a bear and as fast as a pony. The spell was so powerful, but it was also a double-edged sword. Because he had lost his ability to cast spells, he could not dispel the spell until its duration ended.
Aermir doesn't need magical armor or weapons, so he wears ordinary plate armor because he has shield magic. He carries two large axes. With Superman strength, he lifts these two axes as easily as he lifts daggers.
Because his armor was taken from Mountain Clans, it was covered in fur and hides, which protected him from the cold mountain winds and added to his savage aura. Aermir's speed was enhanced, and he could pounce on his enemies like the Grim Reaper without a horse.
With each swing of his axe, limbs and horses would be severed or crushed. His axe was not enchanted, nor was it super-sharp, which is why most of the time, he was chopping people down rather than hacking them, crushing their armored bodies into a bloody pulp.
He was the spearhead, with 100 soldiers in ordinary-quality enchanted gear and those with special abilities trying to keep up. Aermir couldn't bring all the ordinary-quality enchanted gear here, or the other fronts and the boss would be exposed. Close behind him was Ulf, son of Omer. He was struggling to keep up with the Druid. When he said he couldn't reveal himself, they had assumed the Druid would stay behind and only heal them.
When he heard that Druid couldn't kill enemies with magic, it would be a lie to say he wasn't disappointed. They thought Druid were useless without magic, but he re-evaluated those ideas and felt ashamed to look down on this priest of the Old Gods. Even without magic, the Druid was a monster; he couldn't possibly be human; swords, spears, and all sorts of weapons attacked him, but none of them had any effect on him; arrows couldn't even hit him. He was omnipotent.
Under the influence of a series of empowering spells, Aermir felt his muscles stiffen like hard stone. The heavy blows aimed at him seemed no more impactful than a child's feeble attack. His Superman speed and strength propelled him forward, making him an unstoppable force on the battlefield. The wrath of the Old Gods flowed through Aermir's veins as he continued to deliver fatal blows to his enemies, relentlessly pursuing his target, Yarick.
Despite the chaos around him, Aermir relentlessly pursued his prey, his movements swift, elegant, and chilling. Nothing could stop him except the blinding glare of a spear or the slap of a warhammer; his helmet protected his most vulnerable spots.
As Aermir approached Yarick, his men were dealing with the remaining cavalry, their magical equipment and robust physiques aiding them. His attention was more focused on the Vale Chieftain; he couldn't share his line of sight with his family members, but he could clearly hear their voices, and Wave continued to provide him with information.
The battlefield was stained red with the blood of fallen soldiers, a testament to the Druid's relentless attack. His path was littered with the torn and dismembered corpses of his enemies; behind him lay a trail of ruins.
Yarick recognized the imminent threat and attempted to muster his cavalry for defense. However, Aermir's physical prowess proved invincible, and the limited space to maneuver rendered the cavalry virtually useless.
Aermir leaped into the air, flying approximately 10 meters. He swung his weapon powerfully, striking his target and ending Yarick's life. The force of the blow was so devastating that Yarick's body exploded like a can of tomato sauce. His full Ceres armor offered absolutely no protection.
The conflict in the forest was over. Aermir stood among the fallen, and the mountain warriors witnessed the overwhelming power he possessed. Those who had managed to escape the forest would remember this pain for the rest of their lives.
Aermir rose from his crouch on Yarick's mutilated corpse; his bronze armor had turned crimson from his attacks. To his enemies, he was a demon; to his allies, a revered god of war.
Now it was time to end this part of the battle and raze the entire Vale of Arryn. He was going to outflank Ruthermont and the rest of Wydman's forces. He regrouped his troops with lightning speed; he had 50 minutes left before his transformation ended. That was enough time to finish the battle.
A quick headcount showed he had lost only 50 men in the battle. He led his troops on a rapid march toward the right flank of the Vale Army. Half of his men successfully caught up with the Vale Knights' horses, and now he had about 500 more cavalrymen in addition to his 200. Not every mountain warrior could ride a horse, as most tribes were too poor to afford enough horses, and those who could, while not as many as the Vale Knights, were sufficient for the battle.