Necromancer, Summoning a 055? What the Heck? Section 24

Vincent stared in surprise for a few seconds, then a smile returned to his face. "Just what I'd expect from a scion of a great family. That's certainly an unusual rule!"

He took a leisurely sip of tea, a touch of languor in his voice. "However, enrolling outside the designated period and studying in the mage tower... that's no ordinary difficulty!"

He had said it was difficult, not impossible.

Chen Mo glanced casually at his wristwatch and returned a polite smile.

"I'd like to hear more!"

Chapter 38: The Price, Negotiations, and an Ambush

While aboard the flying ship, Chen Mo had heard the guide and mercenary Luke mention a common saying on the Starry Continent: old blades loved liquor, and long staves loved smoke.

Old blades referred to older warriors. Among the people Chen Mo had met, whether Luke himself, Old John, the boss One-Eye, or Heitou and Charlie, whom he had met just a few days ago, nearly all loved liquor as much as life itself.

Why was that? For one thing, these warriors spent years risking their lives, living on the edge of a blade, never knowing if they would see tomorrow. Drinking their lives away was simply the norm.

For another, warriors slept rough and fought their way through all kinds of hardships. Almost all of them had old injuries, which often became unbearably painful when the weather changed, so they needed liquor as an anesthetic.

Long staves referred to mages.

There were two ways to identify a mage. One was to look at their robes, attendants, and entourage. The other was more straightforward: look at the length of their staff.

The longer the staff, the greater their seniority.

As for smoking, it was something the old mages who carried those long staves almost invariably did. Supposedly, it helped them quickly cast aside distracting thoughts and enter a calm, focused meditative state, greatly benefiting their daily meditation and magical research.

But it was rather high-end, and today was Chen Mo's first time seeing the real thing.

The complete smoking set consisted of a wooden base, a spherical, partially openwork bowl, a long starlight tube, and a packet of neatly cut tobacco leaves that gave off a distinctive aroma.

The tobacco was leisurely placed in the bowl, the lid closed, and the bowl set on the base. A gentle rub of the fingers, and a faint flame quietly sprang up through the openings in the bowl.

Deputy Director Vincent was also a mage.

Mage Vincent took a draw from the starlight tube, narrowed his eyes, and exhaled a long plume of white smoke, shaking his head contentedly.

During the leisurely process of lighting his smoke, Vincent had more or less sorted out his thoughts.

Though this young master still seemed a little inexperienced in dealing with people, the upbringing of a robed noble ran in his bones and could not be concealed.

Most importantly, his judgment, which seemed to see straight into Vincent's heart, was definitely not something an ordinary family could have cultivated.

Only the most prominent noble families, those that had raised governors for generations, would likely take such pains to refine their children's minds.

Vincent had probed him back and forth several times. While he could not say everything the young master said was entirely credible, at least he had detected no obvious errors or fabrications.

His gaze was open, his manner sincere, and most importantly-he was willing to pay!

That was enough. As long as he had no ulterior motives... this deal seemed worth making!

Having made up his mind, Vincent took another puff and said to Chen Mo, "You're not old enough yet, so you don't know the wonders of this mind-clearing tobacco. When I'm doing enchantments, I can never get my energy up without a few puffs."

"It's just that my smoking set is much too crude. Last year, in Jianshui City in the Federation, I saw an upper mage's prized set with my own eyes-a base made of star-tear stone and a bowl carved from blue crystal. The whole set was worth, tsk, a full twenty gold coins!"

Vincent smacked his lips, his eyes full of longing. "I thought at the time, if I had a treasure like that, I'd feel truly refreshed when I worked and get twice the results for half the effort!"

Without cheating, Chen Mo understood instantly. Twenty gold coins-that was the price Vincent had named.

The man's way of asking for money was an art in itself.

He did not rush to respond. Instead, he examined his wristwatch carefully again before replying with a hint of apology, "Mr. Vincent, that smoking set really is rather expensive. If I were at home, getting one for you would certainly be no problem. But I'm alone away from home now, and I really don't have much money on hand."

"Still, if it's confirmed that I can study in the magic tower, I don't think it would be much trouble to ask my family for a little more support!"

Vincent understood as well. As long as he could confirm it, money would be no problem.

The two exchanged smiling glances, their eyes full of appreciation for each other.

This old bastard!

This little fox!

While Chen Mo racked his brains, trying to use the connection he had made through a long, winding chain of contacts to make his way into the magic tower, a traveling party from Cloudmist Territory in the Emerald Duchy met with a devastating calamity in the Longwind Hills.

This was within the Creek Moon Federation's borders, one of the core regions of the human nations. Captain Peiwen, the leader of the guards, had never imagined they would be ambushed here by an orc legion.

Peiwen had made thorough preparations according to the marching manual. Even while traveling along the main road, Peiwen had cautiously sent scouts onto the high ground on both sides. But the only thing that achieved was to buy a dozen or so seconds to prepare.

"Orcs!!!"

The sentry had time for only that one shrill warning before being stabbed into a bloody mess. Just a few breaths later, enemy cavalry leaped out from the slope.

One rider, ten riders, twenty, thirty... more and more fearsome figures appeared over the crest, then charged downhill with the force of thunder!

By the time they came into the humans' view, they were already galloping at full speed.

The instant the sentry sounded the alarm, Peiwen had ordered the troops to battle alert. But on seeing the enemy's equipment and numbers, Peiwen's heart sank to the bottom.

These were the orc tribe's elite wolf riders.

The wolves of the Starry world were clearly not the same kind as those of Blue Star. These wargs from the Rubble Plateau were over two and a half meters long and weighed nearly four hundred kilograms. Powerful in attack and prolific breeders, they were the orcs' most relied-upon battle partners.

Most importantly, the bones behind their shoulders and along their spines had undergone some peculiar mutation. Together with the longissimus and iliocostalis muscles, they formed a brace that gave their otherwise weak backs tremendous load-bearing capacity. They could carry broad, burly orc warriors, greatly increasing the orcs' mobility.

In the bloody history of warfare between humans and orcs that spanned a thousand years, the roars of warg cavalry had torn through sturdy human lines countless times, and they had repeatedly circled around like ghosts to cut off the elves' retreat.

When those low, oppressive wolf howls echoed across plains and valleys and through the ruins of towns, even the eyes of the toughest alliance veterans would involuntarily cloud over with a tinge of blood.

Now, right here on an official road of the Creek Moon Federation, at least one fully organized squad-over a hundred fully equipped wolf riders wearing heavy upper-body armor, their wargs covered in fearsome head and chest guards-were charging the human party with overwhelming force!

"What are those Creek Moon bastards doing? How did they let these fellows through???"

"Spread out! Front right, full draw! Loose! Loose!"

Chapter 39: Orc Wolf Riders

Peiwen had made what could be called the best possible battlefield decision. Cloudmist Territory's guard unit had only twenty-four members and had already lost one mounted scout on the hill. The three remaining cavalrymen could be of no use against the enemy riders. So this battle pitted the few against the many, infantry against cavalry.

Picking off as many enemies as possible at range might buy them a little room to retreat.

Peiwen could see clearly that the enemy were medium cavalry in upper-body armor, with even their wargs wearing head and chest guards. Anything less than a full draw would never penetrate.

The warriors chosen as the commandery princess's guards were all elites, the best of the territory. Before Peiwen gave the order, they had already raised their weapons. The first volley achieved good results, knocking at least six wolf riders from their mounts mid-charge.

Then came the second volley. Because the enemy was closer, it had the greatest effect, bringing down at least another ten or so riders.

But that was as far as it went.

The wolf riders' javelins came howling in.

With a series of low, eerie whistles, a dense swarm of short-shafted javelins came whistling through the air.

Orcs disliked bows but had a particular fondness for heavy ranged weapons like javelins. This time, they had thrown darts designed specifically to attack infantry formations.

These weapons were about half a meter long, with wooden shafts and iron heads. Distinctive notched cavities had been carved into their bodies, drawing in air during flight and producing a piercing shriek like a whistle.

It was an all-encompassing attack on the enemy. The darts flew one after another from the orcs' thick arms and punched into the human position with powerful momentum.

Now the value of Peiwen's order to spread out became clear. Had they clustered together as in a conventional defense, that volley would have wiped them out.

Even so, despite spreading out and raising their defenses, the guards lost a third of their fighting strength when the darts struck.

Both sides seized the last window of time to exchange another volley. Javelins and arrows crossed in the air, weaving a net of death!

Cloudmist Territory's warriors had inflicted more casualties, but lost the battlefield.

Captain Peiwen's heart felt as though it had plunged into an ice cavern, sinking into a bottomless abyss-the orcs' attacks had deliberately avoided the few magnificent carriages in the center!

These black-skinned beasts had never understood the meaning of mercy. They usually tore their prey to pieces like a pack of hyenas, chewed it to a pulp, and swallowed it. When they raided human territories, they never showed human nobles the slightest respect.

Now the enemy's javelins had deliberately avoided the carriages. That could mean only one thing.

"They know who we are!"

"They came for Commandery Princess Liushuang!"

"They even have an insider of extremely high standing in the Creek Moon Federation."

Warg cavalry were indeed excellent for surprise attacks. They could travel through mountains and forests, overwhelm warhorses in short bursts of speed, and their mounts could fight directly. Human knights of the same tier were almost completely outmatched by orc wolf riders.

But every advantage had its drawback, and these creatures had one enormous flaw: wargs ate meat, and in the vast majority of cases, only fresh meat.

Unless they were starving to the point of death, they would not even touch carrion, let alone anything vegetarian.

Meat was expensive enough, but more importantly, fresh meat was difficult to preserve for long. The resulting strain on logistics was outrageously severe. Even the Firmament Dynasty, which claimed to command a hundred thousand armored cavalry, had abandoned the idea of forming wolf cavalry units after a brief trial.

The losses incurred by wolf cavalry fighting long distances across borders were astonishing.

Now, a force of orc wolf riders, clearly in excellent condition, had crossed mountains and ridges into the Creek Moon Federation and attacked their caravan. If they had come only to raid, they would never have held back.

From the beginning, Peiwen had kept Commandery Princess Liushuang under protection just behind and to the side, preventing her from being targeted by concentrated attacks inside a carriage.

Now the enemy had made it perfectly clear that they had a specific target. This could not be a chance encounter, but a carefully laid trap.

Under these circumstances, the captain of the guards did not even dare stay behind to hold them off and let Commandery Princess Liushuang retreat first. After all, there was no telling whether more enemies were out there, or how many.

They could only fight to the death here!

Looking at the young commandery princess, whose face was slightly pale as she gripped a knight's sword shimmering with flowing light, Peiwen struck a fist heavily against the chest and gestured to Master Locke, who stood beside the girl.

A pearly white light rippled over the captain of the guards. With a thunderous shout, the gold-scale warrior charged forward at great speed and brought a two-handed greatsword crashing down, cleaving an orc wolf rider and warg diagonally in two.

A spray of blood mist filled the air.

The melee began.

In terms of strength, the guards were all elite warriors chosen from countless candidates. But how could the orc cavalry capable of a cross-border raid be novices? After only a few minutes of fighting, the defensive line collapsed across the board under the enemy's superior numbers.

A warg's sharp teeth tore open another guard's throat, staining a large patch of its blue-gray fur bright red and making it look especially fearsome. The battlefield was now divided in two. In one place, the last two guards, a guide and mercenary, four maids, Lady Linda, Master Locke, and Commandery Princess Liushuang huddled together, forming a small position with their backs to one another.

A dozen or so meters outside their position, more than a dozen wolf riders neither attacked nor approached, simply circling back and forth.

Orc and human alike understood that the position would fall to a single volley of javelins or one charge. The orcs had victory assured and were waiting for their leader's command.

On the other side, Captain Peiwen was still charging frantically through the orc ranks.

Upon discovering that the orcs were not trying to kill the commandery princess, the captain of the guards had begun charging in the opposite direction, drawing the fighting away while killing as many enemies as possible in search of the slightest chance to turn the battle around.

Peiwen's target was the enemy leader, who had remained on the hillside all along, astride a giant black wolf and clad head to toe in heavy armor, with even his face hidden beneath a helmet.

Orcs revered strength. Of course, humans were actually the same, but among orcs, a leader's role was especially pronounced. Examples of a chief's death causing an entire tribe to collapse were everywhere.