Dungeon of Pride, Laplace

Chapter 956- Seventh Trial (4)

That last statement made Rothgard's eyes widen. A holy knight was no small comparison—those were warriors blessed by destiny and reached a realm that could change the tides of war.

"A holy knight, huh?" he repeated softly, "If he's that skilled, why have we never heard of him?" this question appeared in his mind.

It was common during the war for certain individuals who had performed excellently and who stood out among the rest, to spread like wildfire.

Soldiers discussed these legends during their meals taking them as idols or goals. However, he had never heard of the mercenary named Simon before. If his strength was really comparable to that of a holy knight, then his name should have been very famous.

"He claims to hail from the demi-human continent" Dravik answered shaking his head.

Just as the two were discussing that, the sounds of footsteps approached near before a voice came knocking in. Both men exchanged glances... "Speak of the devil".

At that moment, the entrance to the tent was swung open and a tall man possibly crossing 2 meters, stepped in. He had crimson eyes that gazed at his surroundings sharply, long black hair that was neatly tied back, fair skin and features that would make him the prince charming of every woman's dream.

That said, one should not make the mistake of taking him for another pretty boy as the aura he carried with him, possessed the weight of countless battles.

His presence alone was so strong that the air thickened simply by his arrival. Rothgard's eyes immediately locked onto the mercenary's eyes.

There was something unsettling about the way those eyes seemed to glow faintly under the torchlight, a feral intensity that hinted at more than just mere skill—it was the gaze of someone who was not looking at the present moment but peering into something far beyond in the future.

"You summoned me?" The mercenary asked.

"Yes, we were just talking about you" saying that, Dravik inclined his head toward the seat, silently inviting the mercenary to sit.

The latter accepted without a word and sat unhurriedly.

"You've had time to observe the soldiers we're working with. So what's your take?" once seated, Dravik asked.

"There's nothing to think about. With this lineup, there's no way we can stop the enemy army."

The mercenary didn't hesitate, his words were brutally honest, devoid of tact or embellishment. Dravik gave a slow nod as if the mercenary had only voiced what he himself already knew.

"Pushing these men into battle would be the act of a desperate leader. A smart one would look for another way." n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Rothgard's brow arched slightly "What are you saying, Dravik? I thought we had already settled on a strategy."

"General, hear me out, A few days ago, Simon came to me with a strategy. At first, I dismissed it—thought it was just a madman's dream. But now, seeing that endless swarm gathering on the horizon... I can't help but wonder if that dream could be turned into reality."

Rothgard turned his gaze back toward the mercenary, intrigued. What sort of strategy did this guy tell for even Dravik to dismiss it as farfetched? The mercenary named Simon gave a curt nod and began explaining.

"The enemy is massing their forces directly in front of us, expecting us to meet them head-on. If we follow their script, it will be a massacre—our soldiers are too few and too scattered to withstand the assault. But... we won't give them the fight they're expecting."

He paused for a moment, letting the idea take root in their minds. "We move eastward, toward Mount Gorgor."

Rothgard frowned. "Mount Gorgor? That fortress has been abandoned for decades. It's crumbling."

"True, but it still sits in a narrow mountain pass, surrounded by cliffs. The terrain there will do what our soldiers cannot—choke the enemy's advance. We don't need to outfight them. We need to outmaneuver them."

The mercenary leaned back slightly, a faint smirk crawled on his lips giving him a very devilish look.

"We'll split our forces into two groups. One will move east under the cover of night, securing Mount Gorgor and fortifying what remains of it. Meanwhile, the second group will remain here, creating the illusion that we are preparing to meet them head-on."

"A decoy force," Rothgard murmured, his eyes narrowing in thought. "To draw the enemy in."

"Exactly," Simon confirmed. "Once the enemy fully commits to the main assault here, the first group will launch a surprise ambush from the east, blocking the pass behind them. The cliffs will trap the bulk of their forces between two fronts—our soldiers at the fortress and the decoy force pressing from behind. With nowhere to retreat, they'll be sandwiched between two sides"…

Rothgard stroked his chin thoughtfully, running through the plan in his mind.

"But moving sideways, toward the fortress, leaves us exposed. How do you ensure the enemy won't detect your manoeuvre?"

"We stagger the movements, breaking into smaller units that travel through lesser-known paths in the forested hills to the east. Each unit moves at a different time, reassembling at Mount Gorgor just before dawn. It'll take coordination and discipline, but it will keep us off the enemy's radar."

"Even if you say that, the enemy will still realise what we're doing?"

"By the time they notice, it will be too late. If they try to pursue us into the mountains, they'll lose their formation in the narrow paths, making them easy prey for ambushes. The terrain will fight for us."

Rothgard fell silent, it was no wonder that Dravik dismissed the idea as a farfetched dream because it was. The mercenary's plan was too risky and full of flaws and factors that need to align for it to work.

"It's risky," Dravik hummed from the side "but it's far better than sending these men to their deaths in a direct confrontation."

Simon nodded his head agreeing with the knight commander "War is always a gamble. But this way, the odds are stacked in our favor. At the very least we can stall for time and wait for help to arrive".