Chương 39: 39：Not for Sal

Galahad said nothing. He turned and walked over to the weapon rack in the corner of the room. He hoisted a shield, walked back to the long table, and simply let go. CLANG. A forged steel kite shield slammed onto the map. The dead center of the shield was caved in, forming a shockingly deep crater. All the connecting rivets along its edge had snapped.

"Ten orcs, " Galahad said, his eyes fixed on the mangled metal.

"Three days ago, ten unarmored orcs, led by a High Shadow Priest, tore apart my defensive barricades barehanded. They charged straight into a spear phalanx. One punch shattered this shield—and the sternum of the soldier holding it—into dust." Leona's pupils contracted. She reached out, her fingers tracing the massive fist imprint in the center of the shield. With steel this thick, even a full-tilt charge from a warhorse would only dent it. It was impossible to cause this kind of penetrating structural failure.

"They are called Sons of Titan. They feel no pain and possess rock shields, " Galahad continued."Thrust an ash-wood spear at them, and the shaft snaps. It won't even leave a scratch on their shields." Galahad raised his eyes to look at Leona, his tone overwhelmingly grim.

"Leona, consider this a warning. I don't care how tight you've drawn the lines with your two thousand six hundred men. Once those ten monsters breach your center, your knights won't even be able to cut their skin with their swords. Your conventional defenses will be shredded like paper. Because of just those ten, you will suffer hundreds, if not thousands, of casualties." It was a brutally blunt warning. Staring into Galahad's bloodshot eyes, Leona understood.

He was offering her a lesson paid for in blood, just to give her a heads-up. Leona strode around the long table and clapped a heavy hand on Galahad's shoulder.

"If weapons break, reforge them. If men die, pay their pensions and take care of their families."

"We crawl through piles of corpses for a living. Since when is this a trade where you win every single time? You lose once, and you think the sky is falling?"

"If the Sons of Titan can smash shields, we avoid their charge and shoot them down with siege ballistas. If spears can't pierce them, we use magic. Sooner or later, you and I will chop the heads off those monsters and mount them on the gateposts of the Ironwood Fortress." Leona's hearty reassurance finally allowed Galahad to let out a breath he had been holding in his tight, knotted chest for days. The heavy gloom weighing on him eased just a fraction.

"Have a seat, " Galahad said. He moved the shattered shield aside, grabbed a flagon, and poured them drinks. The three of them gathered around the wooden table. Gabriel unrolled a newly drafted calfskin map he had brought with him. Leona picked up her cup, but didn't take a sip. Her gaze locked onto the defensive markers on the map, her mind continuously running simulations of the battle Galahad had just described. Ten monsters with virtually maxed-out physical and magical resistance, plus a High Shadow Priest.

They launch a surprise attack on a heavily fortified stronghold, smash through the gates, massacre an entire phalanx... and then stop? Why not press the advantage? Leona set her cup down. She had spotted a logical flaw, one that would easily prove her sharp tactical instincts to her peers.

"Galahad, you're missing the big picture, " Leona said, tapping her finger on the location of the Ironwood Fortress."Ten top-tier elite units tore down your gate and then just retreated?" She dragged her finger heavily from the fortress toward the rear, drawing a sharp diagonal line across the map.

"The orcs aren't brainless brutes. Their real target was never the fortress. This elite orc squad was executing a targeted assassination mission." The more she spoke, the clearer the picture became. Her eyes gleamed.

"The Ironwood Fortress was just unlucky enough to be sitting right on their infiltration route. What they're after is a high-value human target somewhere deep within the Misty Swamp!" Having made her deduction, Leona leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, fully expecting looks of awe from Galahad and Gabriel. Galahad didn't even pause, he just kept sipping his ale. Gabriel continued swallowing his drink as if nothing had been said. The two men exchanged a look.

"Yes, that's exactly right, " Gabriel said.

"We already knew, " Galahad added, lowering his cup. His tone was perfectly flat. The smug triumph froze on Leona's face. Her brows knitted together in a tight scowl."You knew?" Galahad set his cup down and pointed a finger at the Crimson Moon Knights insignia pinned to Leona's chest.

"It was one of your men who told us."

"What do you mean?" Leona sat bolt upright.

"The captain of your First Vanguard Battalion. Soren." Galahad enunciated the name clearly, syllable by syllable. At the sound of that name, Leona's brain short-circuited for a full second. Soren had ventured into the swamp a long time ago. Leona had been agonizing over him for days. She had dispatched several waves of scouts deep into the territory, but none had found so much as a trace of Soren's unit. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

There were nights when she woke up dreading the thought that the formidable veteran might have already met his end, swallowed by some toxic bog.

"He's… he's here with you?" Leona suddenly shot to her feet.

"He's not just nearby. He's the one who slaughtered those monsters I was telling you about." Meeting Leona's wide, incredulous eyes, Galahad spilled out the lingering, unforgettable details that had been looping in his mind.

"Sixty-five men. All armed with two-and-a-half-meter armor-piercing heavy halberds. Out of those ten monsters that my shielded spearmen couldn't even scratch, his unit forcefully killed two. They even put a spear right through the heart of the Shadow Priest leading them, sending his corpse tumbling." Galahad stared right at Leona."And all sixty-five men retreated safely."

"Death toll? Zero." The stone room fell so utterly silent that the crackling of the charcoal in the brazier sounded like thunder. Leona stood there, her mouth hanging slightly open. She had thought that Soren, leading a squad of green recruits, would be lucky just to survive the swamp. But now… Standing off to the side, Gabriel set his cup down.

"Before I left the capital, the former Supreme Legion Commander, General Rodman, told me something personally. He reviewed the combat casualty ratios and gave Soren the highest possible praise. He called him a top-tier tactical mastermind." Gabriel tapped the Thunder Vine crest etched onto his breastplate.

"The only reason I left the capital to come to this mudhole was because of the old General's strict orders. My mandate is to push our defensive lines outward to provide support for Soren. Besides, Soren saved my life once. That's a debt I still need to repay." A heavy silence held in the room for a long minute.

"Hahahahaha!" BANG! A deafening roar of laughter suddenly shattered the quiet. Leona slammed both hands onto the wooden table so hard that the ale in their cups flew into the air. Her laughter was laced with fierce, boundless pride."Brilliant! Fucking brilliant!" Leona yanked her massive, door-sized greatsword from its scabbard and slammed it point-down into the flagstone floor. Sparks showered across the room.

"I knew it! That bastard never disappoints me!" Leona's face was flushed with absolute ecstasy.

"Here I am, leading two thousand six hundred men through this cursed swamp, tiptoeing around every day to guard against orc ambushes. Meanwhile, Soren takes sixty-five men and straight-up slaughters Warchief Blackstone's trump card!" Galahad watched Leona's unbridled, manic joy, extreme jealousy surging in the depths of his eyes. He was defending the Ironwood Fortress.

He had plenty of rations and top-tier equipment, yet every time the orcs launched a surprise attack, the only way he could repel them was by throwing the lives of his infantry into the meat grinder. If he had a genius like Soren—someone who could use deadly terrain to lay perfect ambushes—assisting him, his casualty list would be cut by at least seventy percent! Galahad planted both hands on the edge of the table and leaned intensely toward Leona.

"Leona, let's make a deal." His eyes were bloodshot, looking at her as if she were his last lifeline.

"Down in the underground armory of the Ironwood Fortress, I have a full fifty sets of heavy interlocking plate armor, forged in the furnaces of the Dwarves! They are absolute masterworks, capable of taking a heavy cleave head-on! I'll even throw in ten enchanted heavy siege ballistas."

"Give Soren to me. Transfer his command and defensive sector under my banner!" Leona's roaring laughter abruptly stopped.

"Hmph?"

"Fifty suits of heavy armor? Ten enchanted ballistas?" Leona let out a cold, disdainful scoff. She twisted her greatsword, exposing a highly visible, jagged chip on the upper edge of the blade.

"Take a good look at this."

"Half a month ago at the Storm Rift. I had over two thousand men trapped in a dead end, facing an assault from Warchief Blackstone and over ten thousand greenskins."

"Soren fired a single arrow. Right through an army of ten thousand, he accurately struck Warchief Blackstone and detonated an alchemical oil cart. He literally blasted a path of survival open for me and my entire army." Galahad's breath caught in his throat. The cup Gabriel had just raised froze right at his lips, he completely forgot to set it down. The miracle that saved the Crimson Moon Knights and the Storm Rift Fortress... was also the work of this Vanguard Captain?!

The fanatic gleam in Leona's eyes burned like wildfire.

"Keep your fifty tin cans."

"Soren is my right hand, and the absolute core of the Crimson Moon Knights."

"Forget your petty trade. Even if the King of the Silvermoon Kingdom took off his crown and offered it to me, I wouldn't trade so much as half of Soren!"