The Forgotten Field Novel - Chapter 235

### Chapter 235: THE FORGOTTEN FIELDS (NOVEL)

Upon seeing that, the siege unit immediately prepared the giant crossbow (ballista).

Varkas wrapped one of his arms around “Turk’s” neck and pulled the reins with all his strength; at that exact moment, huge spear-like arrows shot out from three or four ballistas.

“Turk” deftly dodged the arrows rushing like the wind, crossed the fields at high speed, and lightly jumped over the lined-up palisade. Immediately, the warhorse’s powerful front hooves fell heavily onto the heads of the soldiers surrounding the siege engines.

When the soldiers saw the bodies of their companions being crushed under the iron hooves, they scattered in all directions screaming.

Varkas swung his sword without delay, and the heads of three soldiers who were desperately trying to draw their weapons from their waists flew off at the same time. Blood gushed from the cuts and scattered into the surroundings like a red mist; through that stale air, Varkas’s blade advanced to tear open the chests of the enemies trying to reorganize their ranks, piercing through their armor.

—Garkash! —shouted a middle-aged man with a sun-weathered face in the ancient eastern language, a word that refers to a ferocious beast that appears in the legends of the Kahn people.

Varkas blocked a huge double-edged axe heading toward him using the flat side of his sword, then spurred his horse to directly trample the man’s body. Blood splattered everywhere accompanied by the heavy sound of breaking bones, and immediately “Turk” charged toward the next enemy.

Varkas swung his sword without stopping while quickly inspecting the ranks; as soon as the cavalry unit following him penetrated the right flank of the siege unit, the enemy ranks, which had seemed solid just a moment ago, collapsed.

However, this powerful onslaught did not last long, as the large-scale distributed marauders began to encircle Wolfram’s cavalry. Varkas picked up a halberd that had fallen from a lancer’s hand and quickly returned the sword he held in his other hand to his waist. Long weapons were much more suitable for facing large numbers of enemies.

Varkas gripped the lower part of the handle with both hands and swung his weapon forcefully toward the enemies tightening the circle. The axe blade traced a huge arc and swept away the bodies of the marauders charging with their spears and swords in a single blow. When the pagan warriors saw five or six of their men mercilessly sliced in an instant, they hastily retreated.

Varkas did not waste that moment and charged toward the center of the formation.

At that instant, he felt a sharp impact on his shoulder. Varkas turned to see that an arrow had penetrated a gap in his armor and frowned; fortunately, it did not seem that the bone was affected, but the arrowhead had sunk into the muscle. He grabbed the arrow shaft with one hand and ripped it out without hesitation, then directed his horse’s head straight toward the archers.

Upon seeing that, the archers rushed to draw their bowstrings. But “Turk’s” legs were faster: in the blink of an eye, Varkas approached their ranks and brought the blade of his axe down vertically onto the body of one of the archers. When another archer saw his companion’s body being split in two, he dropped his bow in panic and drew his sword from his waist.

However, his reaction came late; the end of the long handle struck the archer’s temple with pinpoint precision. The soldier fell screaming, so Varkas advanced his horse over him and pointed his spear tip at the next enemy.

Nonetheless, the enemies surrounded him in successive layers, although they did not dare enter his weapon’s range. Thanks to this, Varkas had the opportunity to catch his breath and scanned the battlefield with his sharp gaze.

Wolfram’s cavalry was fighting fierce battles, finding themselves surrounded as well; seeing some of them fall from their horses, he gritted his teeth in rage: they could not hold out like this forever.

“Should I secure a retreat route now?”

While calming “Turk,” who was panting loudly, and looking around at the enemies tightening the circle, the enemy ranks suddenly grew agitated, and wild screams were heard from somewhere.

Varkas turned toward the source of the sound and saw something black rushing like a torrent through the chaotic enemy ranks. He felt relief for a moment thinking they were reinforcements, but soon his eyes widened as he realized that what was tearing apart the enemy’s rear was nothing other than dozens of “direwolves.” [The same species as the wolf that Talia raised].

Those beasts, which equaled calves in size, bit the marauders indiscriminately, transforming the battlefield into a hell in a matter of seconds.

After a moment of stupor, Varkas immediately charged through the crumbling ranks toward the center of the enemy camp. Despite his intense panting, “Turk” trampled the soldiers fiercely and covered the battlefield without obstacles.

He did not know how much time passed cutting and killing. However, he soon noticed that the wolves were selectively attacking only the marauders with precision. He stopped swinging his axe for a moment and quickly inspected the beasts roaming the field. The giant wolves moved with strict order, tearing apart the formations of the savages.

There was no room for doubt: something was guiding the wolf pack.

Before he could process the meaning of that reality, the battle situation changed once more; the sounds of horns resonated loudly in the distance, and armored cavalry appeared over the hills. With the appearance of this colossal army exceeding ten thousand soldiers, the marauders lost the will to fight and began to flee.

Varkas raised his spear high and roared with a thundering voice:

—Do not let any of them escape!

As soon as the order was issued, Wolfram’s elite units pursued the scattered enemies with terrifying speed. While the riders pulled ahead of the enemies to cut off their escape routes and annihilated them mercilessly, the armored cavalry that arrived at the enemy’s rear completely wiped out thousands of soldiers.

What happened next was not a battle, but something more akin to a massacre. The people of ‘Zaram’ fell defenseless before the successive attacks of the cavalry. After about two hours had passed, the field was left filled with the corpses of the pagans, crushed under the horses’ hooves.

—My Lord! We have annihilated all the enemies concentrated in the south as well! —As the end of the battle neared, Daren, who had been eliminating enemies at the southern gate, arrived riding.

Only then did Varkas lower his weapon.

The wolf pack had completely disappeared; only the corpses of a few of them remained, lying amidst the piles of the dead after being killed by the marauders. He looked at them in silence, then drove his spear into the ground and jumped down from the saddle, wishing to relieve the burden on “Turk,” who had undoubtedly reached the limit of his energy.

—What is the extent of the losses?

—We have not yet accurately tallied the numbers, but there appear to be about four hundred dead —Daren replied with a heavy voice as he took the reins from his hand—. And if we add the city guards, I believe the number will double.

It was a loss that could not be underestimated, but considering that the entire city was on the verge of falling, the result was considered fortunate.

He sighed with weariness and raised his gaze to the sky, which was beginning to be tinged with the colors of sunset. A dry wind steeped in the smell of blood caressed his blood-stained face; he smoothed his messy hair, turned toward the northern gate, and said:

—Move all the corpses of the deceased to the cathedral. The funerals will be held tomorrow.

—Understood.

He crossed the field and entered the interior of the city walls. Corpses were scattered everywhere around the collapsed wall; he waited a moment, observing the guards clearing the area, then approached the collapsed battlements to assess the extent of the damage.

Given that he had annihilated the marauders who had caused havoc for years, there would be no additional threat for a while; however, for the safety of Kalmure, it was necessary to repair the damaged facilities quickly.

“To perfectly rebuild, I will need at least four months.”

He inspected the cracked walls and collapsed towers, then headed toward the path leading to Raidegu Castle. At that moment, he stopped short upon finding a group of people gathered at the base of the rampart connected to the outer wall.

In front of a pile of rubble from a collapsed building, a woman was sitting, crying and lamenting loudly, and behind her were about fifteen guards hurriedly removing the fallen stones.

Varkas observed the scene dumbfounded, then grabbed the nearest guard by the shoulder.

—What is going on here?

—Your… Your Excellency the Duke… —The guard carrying a huge stone looked at him with a pale face.

At that precise instant, a strange chill ran down his neck.

Chapter 235

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