Chapter 14

Blood of the Innocent

Tann- tann- taraaa! Taa- raaaa!!

The Coalition trumpets rang across the plains of Korelia. Waves of troops soon emerged from the encampment.

There were no uniforms in shape, color, or pattern. Each man wore different garb from the man next to him.

Disorganized at first, the captains and lieutenants waste no time to reform their men. The groups began to assemble into multiple larger columns.

The nobles on their horses led from the front. They were flanked by two-hundred mounted knights and the rest of the cavalry.

In total, the Coalition brought five-hundred cavalry. Their bright-colored clothing, polished steel armors, and colorful banners made the scene like a fanfare.

Indeed to them, this was a display of power. This was how the ruling class paraded their might upon their subjects, peers, and adversaries.

The main body of troops was comprised of six-thousand professional men-at-arms and levied footmen. These were regular men who didn't partake in the political squabble.

They were here to fulfill their contracts and obligations to their lords. Many were farmers, artisans, or tradesmen. Ironically, they were the ones who would bear the brunt of the fighting.

With another blast of the trumpet, the order to halt was announced.

The entire army stopped while dispatches on horses galloped. They were relaying the orders from the top.

The captains received the command and relayed it to the lieutenants. Busyness ensued as the troops began to be molded into a single formation.

Soon, it was completed. Four unbroken lines of men stretched out for more than a mile.

It was an impressive and effective show of force.

The trumpets rang again and the formation advanced in unison. Hundreds of banners waved. Armors and helmets glistened under the bright summer sun.

As they came closer against the Korelians' line, it became clear just how large the unevenness between the two was.

The Coalition’s six-thousand dwarfed the defender’s eight-hundred.

It was like comparing a mighty river to a pond.

The Coalition formation covered such a wide swath of land that anyone looking from Korelia would see the plains brimming with the invading troops.

The scale of the invasion was not lost to many. Korelia's population was only slightly more than five-thousand including children and the elderly.

That the Coalition brought this many was proof that they took Lansius' reputation seriously.

The mile-long formation continued their advance until another sound from the trumpets was heard.

The formation stopped.

More than six-thousands men stood tall and menacing, all facing Korelia.

***

Coalition Side.

"Everything seemed to be as expected, Baron?" Jorge asked after hearing the latest reports from the scouts.

"Indeed, My Lord. We shall resume with the plan," Omin said and began to relay his order.

Earlier, the two had ruled out a general attack. Both understood that open battles were risky affairs. Even bad luck could jeopardize superior forces.

Thus, they opted to launch a small-scale attack to answer Lansius' invitation to battle.

A skirmish and not a battle.

This was to preserve the Coalition's numerical superiority. After all, they only needed to be patient and wait for the siege engines to work.

Nobody wanted to risk the whole army against a possible trap.

The decision was also affected by the topography. With the hill on one side and the town's ditches on the other, there wasn't enough space for their mile-long formation.

The scout reported that only five-hundred men could march side by side.

The command staff had deduced that this was the reason why Lansius fielded his army there. The area was essentially a bottleneck.

It acted as a barrier; preventing a large army to deploy all their might against a smaller foe.

However, they were confident that they could un-snare it. After all, a trap was only a trap if they didn't know about it.

As commanded, the Coalition force split into three columns. Each was two-thousand strong.

Sir Arius, one of Lord Jurga's cousins had the honor to lead the attack. The young man was brave and well experienced in warfare.

His column stood in the center, making the last preparation before attacking eastward.

Omin’s Korimor column was to the south, facing Korelia town. He was tasked against a possible surprise attack from this side.

The last column was placed to the north. Standing against Korelia hill, they were tasked against any attack from the castle.

Lord Jorge was with the cavalry as a reserve and quick reaction force.

As they marched, the summer sun rose higher. Even far from midday, the heat was already unforgiving.

There were no tall trees around them, just plains of tall yellowing grass.

Sir Arius lined his best men-at-arms in front as the vanguard. His formation was now three-hundred men wide and six men deep.

The width of his formation was reduced to counter Lansius' crossbowmen who likely perched in the castle and in the ditches.

The Korelians facing them also mustered similar formation. Close to three-hundred men wide, and about four men deep.

Sir Arius and his comrades were confident. They were almost twice as many and had greater experience in battle.

“Proud members of Three Hills, advance!"

With a single command from Sir Arius' Captain, the column marched eastward.

"Shields at the ready!... Deploy!"

The column wielded their shields as they moved.

“Steady! Steady,” the Captain commanded as the two sides were pushing to the middle. Each feared crossbow attack from the castle and the ditches.

As expected, the Korelians began their ranged attack. Crossbow bolts screeched into the Coalition column. This caused slight panic.

Only the nobility was clad in suits of armors which were highly resistant. They walked gallantly without needing a shield.

Men-at-arms wore ringmails or brigandines, while the rest wore gambeson. The latter was severely inadequate against crossbow attacks.

These men could only hold to their wooden shields tightly as bolts drizzled down on them.

Noises from deflected shots, near-misses, and punctured shields were harrowing even for the veterans. They knew the range was too far for effective penetration, but it was enough to cause injury.

The formation became elongated as the middle part was squeezed by the sides. This sapped their strength and stamina considerably.

Nothing was resolved as they reached the last hundred paces.

Fsszhhh! Clank! Thud- thud!!

Screaming and wailing suddenly burst from the front.

“F-Fuck-” A bolt struck Sir Arius' neck gorget. The hardened steel deflected the bolt upward, but he felt choked by the impact.

Many men beside him were also struck. Even in full-plate, they staggered or knelt in pain. The advance almost halted.

They finally noticed that the Korelians front line had knelt, revealing at least a hundred crossbowmen. The sun which was still on the east had masked the bolts that darted into them.

“Charge! Give the order to charge,” Sir Arius rallied his men through his closed visor. He knew not to linger around in this situation.

Under the hail of crossbow bolts, the Coalition dove into the Korelians' line.

***

Battlefield

“Loose," Hugo yelled and hundreds of bolts darted into the enemy.

The crossbowmen just fired their second salvo. The attack instantly caused mayhem, but the battle had just begun.

"Don't be greedy, no hostage-taking before we are victorious. We're outnumbered and you lot are no knights, so expect no mercy." Hugo briefed his men for the last time.

The enemy was drawing close.

“Crossbowmen to the rear! Spearmen to the front," he howled.

The crossbowmen hurriedly ran to the back, there was no time for the third shot. Fighters with spears filled the gap in the formation. They were ready when the Coalition line arrived.

“Hold your ground!" Hugo yelled his last order.

"Korelia is ours!" one of his lieutenants cried.

Then the two lines collided. Hundreds of sharp objects were no longer brandished but exchanged in anger. Spear tips blurred as hundreds were thrust simultaneously.

Few of the Coalition's youth, brash and inexperienced, charged recklessly. Their armors blocked many glancing blows, but even without penetration, a strong blow or thrust was powerful enough to cause blunt force trauma.

When that happened, pain and dizziness assaulted the mind. Wrestling against spears and swords while weakened, their legs could only give up.

Anyone who stumbled and fell was mercilessly trampled as the line of hundreds of men contracted.

The frontlines were now locked against each other. At this phase, no evacuation was possible. The dead drop where they stood and become nothing more than obstacles.

Each man struggled to find sure footings, keep standing beside their comrades, and continue fighting. The shouting and screaming were deafening.

Close to three thousand men with weapons in their hands were trying to kill the other side in any way possible. The smell of blood, piss, and vomit was thick in the air.

The Coalition crossbowmen deployed and took shots from the side. This was answered by Korelians crossbowmen who protected their flanks.

Against the odds, the Korelians stood their ground.

Many were wounded, but the men proved to be resilient. Despite cuts and bruises, the contracted line eventually stabilized.

Once this happened, the wounded began to be replaced by troops behind them. As hellish as the battlefield may be, it was not chaotic. Most men were not suicidal and fought in orderly manner.

Amidst the forest of spears, shields, and polearms; two-handed fighters swung their giant swords to breach the line.

Wherever there was a breach, fighters rushed in. One side to exploit, the other to defend.

One such breach happened. The Coalition's expert swordsman wrecked the spears and forcibly opened a small gap in the enemy line.

Together with the nearest group of knights, they stormed the Korelians' line.

There was hardly enough space, but it was three against three.

The two fought to keep the gap open. They traded blows and parried against the Korelians' men-at-arms.

One Coalition knight entered, he wore a crimson red surcoat. He was welcomed by a burly man from the Korelians side.

The man threw his broken spear aimed at the red knight who deflected it with his arm. Thinking the knight was distracted, the man drew his sword, leaped, and launched a powerful overhead slash.

The red knight blocked it by using his sword like a pole. His right hand held the hilt while the left hand held the blade near the tip. This was half-swording technique.

The man tried to withdraw his blade, but the knight grappled. The knight's left hand had guided the tip of his blades and interlocked the opponent's sword.

The opponent wrestled against it, but their respective hands' positions played a major role. Both blades were forced down to the knight's left side.

As the knight did so, simultaneously, his right hand rose as he swung his sword’s pommel into the opponent’s helmet.

Ka-thunk!

The pummel wasn't a decoration. It was as destructive as a mini-mace to even maim a well-armored person.

The visor caved in and the burly man fell. The whole duel lasted in seconds.

The skill differences between a seasoned knight and a street swordsman were vast. It wasn't something that could be bridged by merely wearing a suit of armor.

The knight in red surcoat didn't finish the downed man. He opted to keep him alive for a possible ransom.

“Oo-rraahhh!” Another Korelian charged forward.

The red knight parried. He used the reflected momentum and lashed it out against the opponent's arm.

It wasn’t powerful and the sword’s blade wasn’t sharpened to a razor edge. However, the sheer speed and weight were enough to cause injury.

He landed a clean hit and the Korelian man recoiled.

The man groaned as his left arm was dangling freely. Behind him, another man rushed forward.

The red knight took a step back, his battle buddy readily took his place. Even without verbal signs, they cooperate flawlessly.

This was achieved from years of training and competing together. No knight or men-at-arms fought alone, they were always with their group.

Trained from youth, they had spent most of their waking hours studying armed combat discipline. Each had endured more than a thousand blows from mistakes and mishaps.

WIth each bruise, they gained experience. With each cut, they honed their combat skills.

While normal men were hindered by their armor. For them, it was akin to a second skin. The limited vision from their visor and the small breathing holes were part of growing up.

As the knights fought on gallantly; in other places along the line, things happened differently.

In the far corner, men were pushed from behind so much that many couldn’t employ their spear or sword. There was not enough room to even draw their daggers.

They were practically squeezed. Both sides resorted to jostling with only their fists and elbows. One punched the opponent's jaw so hard that only skin held it together.

Another droved their thumbs into the poor opponents’ eye sockets. The fight became close, cruel, and personal.

In the center, the seams in Korelian's line began to fray.

Hugo's group desperately fighting. Having broken his spear, Hugo swung his sword against the upcoming knight's.

The knight blocked it with his left wrist. Protected by the vambrace, no sword would be able to cut steel through.

Despite the recoil from the blow, the knight swung his mace into Hugo's hips. That sent Hugo crashing down on his back.

The knight quickly knelt on Hugo's chest, pinning him down, and bashed his mace at the helmet.

Hugo wrestled the knight's arm while drawing a dagger. His left wrist received two blows, but he managed to slide his dagger into the knight's visor.

The knight's hands frantically reached for his face as he gurgled out blood.

Hot blood poured into Hugo’s visor from above. With eyes burning from the blood, Hugo wrestled the man to the side.

With a groan from his stinging left wrist, Hugo stood up. Staying on the ground would get him mobbed or stomped.

Next to his feet, the fallen knight throbbed several times.

Hugo let the man to his fate. He picked up his sword and felt somebody approaching from behind.

“Marshal,” one of his lieutenants called. The man's gauntlets and lower arms were dyed red with blood. More men rushed to close the gap.

Hugo saw one of his crazies fight valiantly in front. Clad in a suit of armor the man was nigh impenetrable. He faked a torso thrust that ended up with a foot sweep. Just like that, his halberd bested another opponent.

However, the glory was short-lived. He was tackled by three men from the side. Losing situational awareness was a critical mistake.

The three opponents were just squires. What they lack in prowess they made up for in agility.

Despite the crazy's heroic struggle, he was pinned down. One squire slid his dagger into the armpit where the gap in the armor was located and stabbed multiple times.

The man's violent struggle didn't cease. The trio tried to keep him down, but one was suddenly hurled away.

The squire fell facedown with a spear protruding from his back. Thick red blood gushed around the skewered ringmail as the squire writhed for one last time.

Hugo and his group came to the scene and the two squires ran.

They opened the fallen man's visor and saw the face paler than white. The man grinned before blood loss kicked in and then there was only silence.

"Leave him," Hugo said as he grabbed the fallen man's halberd.

Before long, armored men from the Coalition headed into them.

"Korelians to me," Hugo shouted in a hoarse voice.

The lieutenant hoisted his banner. The men mustered and brandished their weapons. Once again the line was reformed.

Despite the heat, injuries, and failing stamina, the two sides kept fighting. They viciously thrust, swung, and stabbed their weapons at every opportunity.

Men who were not wearing full-face helmets looked bloodshot, weary, and thirsty. Men who were wearing full-face got it worse. They were in so much heat that exhaustion came fast.

Trained men regulated it by breathing normally and avoiding unnecessary movements, not even talking or shouting.

As wounded piled up, both sides funneled fresh troops to the front. Then the spectacle turned gruesome as the inexperienced met battle-hardened fighters.

The Korelians were strained enough that they tapped into their last reserve. The militia was brought to the front. It was a last-ditch effort to plug the gap in their line.

Spirited as they may be, the fight was uneven. They were cut down almost as soon as they took the frontline.

The inexperienced wasted their effort by aiming to hit the head or the torso. Meanwhile, seasoned fighters simply smashed a person's fingers with a mace or axe, rendering a target out of combat.

They also had no qualms in breaking a hip or mauling the opponent's ankle to cripple the target.

The dry ground and grass were now lubricated with blood and human fat. Anyone who slipped or fell was soon trampled without any chance to get up.

Hugo saw the desperation in his men. They were already past their limit. Brave as they were, they were outclassed.

“Fallback! Fallback," Hugo yelled, trying to preserve what remained of his column.

The Korelians began to give ground.

***