《Ambition [Indefinite Hiatus]》Chapter 6 - Open Rebellion Part 1

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I turn to face my waiting troops. All of their faces are set in eagerness, nervousness, or some sort of mixture of both. There is a current of excitement in the air, and suddenly, the magnitude of the power at my fingertips hits me like a brick. Any wish I want fulfilled, any goal I have, I will have the power of 60,000 people to help me accomplish that. My hands start shaking; such power… to command an army is to wield a weapon greater than any other.

“Alright, everyone! It’s time!” I announce passionately, I can’t stop the blood from rushing to my head, “I won’t say much, except that tonight will be the night we usurp the throne, tonight will be the night we stop these selfish lords from walking all over us, and tonight will be the night we end our suffering! We will win, for we have JUSTICE ON OUR SIDE!”

I raise my sword to the air and my troops follow suit with an earth-shaking roar. The noise overwhelms me and pumps my blood harder and faster than ever before. I feel as if I’m on top of the world—as if I can simply never lose!

I gracefully point my sword at the exit caves, “All troops, MOVE OUT!”

With a final cheer and salute, the troops turn and march into the exits.

I turn to Luna, “You’ve just recently joined and haven’t received any training so you’ll stay with me.”

Luna nods, her face set in the same mixture of nervousness and excitement as my soldiers.

The magnificent streets are deserted and the torches lining the roads are the only sources of light in this cloudy night.

In front of me stands a handsome middle-aged man with neat, short brown hair, a well-trimmed goatee, and uncaring blue eyes (eyes that I’ve heard usually hold a lot of friendliness whenever this man is facing someone of proper status).

This is the first time I have seen Rutherford Wilhelm face to face. I have always used Ducis as an intermediary to manipulate him.

He seems happy and excited, but I sense no majesty from him. He’s just like all the other nobles who have never faced any true struggle. I agree with Ducis’ analysis, how tepid.

“This is the commander I have set for this army,” Ducis introduces me to him, “He is trustworthy and capable. He will grant you the throne in no time.”

Lord Wilhelm gives me a short, uncaring nod, “I expect you to win.”

I give him a deep bow, even though I want to punch him right in his teeth, “Of course, your majesty.”

Without even a slight hint of an acknowledgment, he leaves.

We are in the Golden district and the army is still on its way so Ducis took this opportunity to have me covertly meet with Lord Wilhelm. Clearly, he needn’t have bothered.

“Where’s that asshole going?” I ask Ducis, spite leaking into my voice.

“Back to his house, I suspect,” Ducis tells me with a small laugh, “He’ll wait until we’ve begun our attack before meeting us in the rear.”

“Right where there’s the least danger, huh?”

“Got it in one.” Ducis looks around a bit, “Where’s the army?”

As if his question were some sort of signal, quiet marching filters into our ears before steadily growing louder and louder.

I chuckle, “Here they are. Couldn’t ask for better timing.”

The sea of steel-armoured soldiers slowly fills up our entire view of the street and comes to a stop behind us. I turn to address them,

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“All forces, we’ll be charging to the Royal castle at full speed now! Make sure not to lag behind!”

The entire army salutes me as one,

“YES, SIR!”

I smile and nod, “Good, now CHARGE!”

I step to the side, and at once, the sea of soldiers breaks out running. It’s necessary for us to advance to the Royal Castle at full speed for two different reasons.

Reason number one: We only have a single day before Lord Davis’ army comes rushing back. If the battle isn’t over by then, then we will have absolutely no way to win. It’s also why I waited until night to start the attack, to make sure that the defence force had enough time to march far enough away from Eagswall.

Reason number two: By now, the king’s forces probably already know that we’re coming. We have to give them as little time to prepare as possible.

The last of the army rushes by and Ducis and I follow at a slower pace. They don’t really need us to lead from the front as we’ve already set the commanders for each unit.

When the tall walls of the royal castle come into sight, the army comes to a halt. We still have at least 100 meters of distance between us and the thick gold-adorned gates, but a quick charge will easily fix that.

However, I must first assess the situation before giving that order. I give the order to set up a command tent and medical tents here and then make my way to the front. From here I can see that all the king’s soldiers have holed themselves up behind the closed gates. They have no other defence. It would be troublesome if the thick wall allowed soldiers to climb on top and shoot arrows at us, but thankfully, that’s not the case.

Well, the course of action is obvious now, isn’t it?

“Archer units and shield units, to the front.” The army heeds my orders as I turn to a lean yet muscular man twenty years of age. He has tan skin, a strong jaw, narrow eyes, and curly black hair. “Fidel, the battering ram is still on its way and should be in the Golden district by now. Take your unit and escort them here.”

Fidel gives me a grin and a quick salute, “Gotcha, boss!” and leads his unit back where we came from.

By now the army formation has shifted and the archer units and shield units stand at the front.

“I want you all to get into groups of three! Two shield units to an archer unit! Take extra quivers!” The soldiers scramble to follow my orders and soon we have 3,000 groups of three. I can wait for longer and allow more groups to form of course, but this should be enough. “Okay, that’s enough! The rest of you fall back and join the main army! As for the newly formed units, advance 50 meters. Shield units, raise those shields—cover yourselves and your designated archer! You will now temporarily be known as the “Mosquito” unit!”

I name them the “Mosquito unit” due to the fact they are simply intended to harass the enemy for now.

My new units give me a salute and cautiously move forward until they have reached the approximated 50-meter mark.

“Archers, prepare your bows! When I give the command, fire! Then you will hide behind your two shield units for three seconds and reload before firing again! Repeat this process until I tell you to stop!”

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“Yes sir!”

The troops expect me to give the order to attack immediately, but I want to try one last thing before beginning the assault.

“Get me a shouter,” I order behind me, “And make it quick.”

I can sense the air of confusion from my army, but they still hurry to obey. Within minutes, a nervous shouter stands before me.

“Y-yes, sir?”

“I need you relay what I say exactly, shouter.” I command.

“Y-yes sir.”

I ignore his nervousness, “Tell them this: “Our army is two times larger than yours. If you don’t want this battle to end in a slaughter, then surrender. We will treat you with mercy.””

The Shouter takes a deep breath and bellows out my message. It feels as though my eardrums will burst just by being close to this booming voice. Truly, the title “Shouter” is well-deserved.

The soldiers gape at me. I can understand their feelings. They have been anticipating this battle for years now, and for it to end without any violence seems almost unthinkable to them. Some might even feel a little betrayed, but if I can end this without any deaths—

“SPEAKING FOR HIS MAJESTY: “I REFUSE! YOU HAVE COMMITTED TREASON AND THEREFORE YOU AND ALL YOUR FAMILY SHALL ALL BE PUT TO THE SWORD! HOWEVER, I CAN LIGHTEN THE SENTENCE IF YOU SIMPLY SURRENDER NOW!””

I feel a chuckle bubble in my throat. So, the king has a spine somewhere in there too, huh?

“Very well then. Shouter, relay this: “You leave us no choice. Today will be your final night as king—I suggest you enjoy it.”

The Shouter does so. How nice, he’s captured my taunting tone quite well. An impressive feat considering the fact that he’s yelling on the top of his lungs.

As soon as the message is finished, I raise my sword high in the air and swing it down with flair,

“FIRE!”

Instantly, a volley of arrows is let loose. They fly through the air like a cloud of locusts, and glint eerily against the light of our torches. Time seems to slow, these arrows will result in the death of hundreds, if not thousands.

So be it. I know what must be done for our dream. I will no longer hesitate.

Time resumes to its normal pace and the swarm of arrows arc over the wall. The sound of rupturing flesh and terrible screams of pain greets my ears. Rather than feel sick like the night before, jubilation wells up in my chest.

The first strike is mine!

A volley of arrows comes flying at us, but with the shield units there to protect us, we barely receive any casualties.

Three seconds pass and my archers return fire, eliciting another round of screams. And then, minutes pass, the same pattern repeating again and again. Gradually though, the screams of pain from the enemy disappear, replaced by the unmistakable ‘thunking’ of arrows colliding with metal and wood.

“Nice strategy, but it seems the enemy’s caught on,” Ducis says from beside me with an evaluating smile. I was so engrossed in the battle, I didn’t even notice him arrive here. He’s even brought Luna with him.

“It’s just basic tactics,” I say, unimpressed, “The fact they took so long to get into a basic formation like that only speaks of their incompetence.”

“So? Our chances of victory?” Ducis asks in an unconcerned tone that tells me he already knows the answer and is simply asking for confirmation.

“Inevitable.” I answer, making it apparent in my voice just how dumb of a question he’s asking, “Of course it’s going to be inevitable, this is only the killing stroke after all.”

Ducis laughs sheepishly, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“However, we’ll lose more troops than I’m comfortable with,” I say as another volley of arrows batters against our shields, “These are the king’s troops; many of them may not have any actual battle experience, but their dedicated training in individual combat ability might more than make up for it.”

“Dedicated training?” Luna raises an eyebrow, “Isn’t the king’s army just like any other army, just with more numbers?”

“They’re the king’s troops, you know? Do you really think they just recruit anyone they can? Of course not; each person in the king’s army is sent by a noble family as tribute and has been forced to train in the art of combat ever since they were old enough to stand.” I explain.

“But you guys have real battle experience, right?” Luna asks optimistically, “Experience should be able to trump training!”

“I don’t know how much I agree with that statement, but either way, that doesn’t matter here,” I say grimly, “The majority of our forces don’t have any real battle experience either.”

Luna’s jaw drops, “Wait, you guys have the same amount of experience as those guys, but also less training? How on Terra is your victory “inevitable”?”

My eye twitches in annoyance, “That’s why we’re covering up our weakness with the strength of numbers and strategy. And also, even if we haven’t trained as much as them, we’ve still trained for years and done numerous simulations. With these factors, we’ll obviously be able to defeat them.”

Luna still looks sceptical, but I couldn’t care less.

…Okay, I care a little. Having someone doubt my strategy is quite annoying.

Whatever, I don’t have time for her right now; I can see the battering ram slowly rolling through my army.

“Ducis,” I say, letting them know with a firm voice that it’s time to get back on topic, “Go to Wilhelm and tell him to give his troops the order.”

Ducis gives me a smile and nods, “Got it.”

With that he leaves.

“What order is Lord Wilhelm going to give his troops?” Luna asks curiously.

“I’ll tell you later,” I say, barely registering her question. With the battering ram here now, my mind is focused on more important things. “Now go back to the rear. Things are going to get dangerous here.”

Luna frowns to show her unwillingness but still complies.

In comes the battering ram, escorted by Fidel and his men. The battering ram is made up of a frame of sturdy wood, which has a giant cylindrical metal beam hanging in the middle through the use of multiple thick ropes. It has giant wheels and numerous handles on it as well, which the soldiers are using to push the entire thing

“Boss, mission complete,” Fidel reports with an easy-going grin, barely pausing to glance at the back and forth of arrows in front of us, “No one attacked us on the way.”

“Good work,” I commend before turning my attention to the entire army, “Shield units! Cover the battering ram! Mosquito unit, clear a path in the centre for the battering ram to pass through!”

“Yes sir!”

The soldiers efficiently comply, and in minutes, the battering ram is surrounded by shield units as a wide path stretches before us.

I point my sword at the gate and command,

“Advance!”

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