Chapter 383: Cornered

Three bangs went off in Governor Ichilia’s ears at the same time, but by now he was used to the sound of the cannons from the opposite shore. Of course, the constant ringing in his ears helped muffle the noise as well. He wouldn’t have to hear much through it. Not only had he grown used to the noise of battle, but also to its danger.

The battle had started slowly, and then had ramped up in intensity as his ships got closer to the shore. Thus, he had been eased into his first major naval battle in thirty years. At first, everything had been easy. The low rate of fire from the defenders had allowed him to compose himself, and then to organize a proper counterattack. Their own weapons outnumbered those of their enemies, so they kept them suppressed for a long time.

Yet as they got closer to the shore, he noticed that the enemy cannon fire had become more and more intense. But by then, his men were already ignited by the fire of combat and no longer shocked quite so easily. It seemed like the enemy had wanted to lure them in by only using half their cannons, and only hit them with their full force when they were closer.

Although progress had been tough, and they had lost a few ships along the way as a result, now they were finally within reach of the shores. Not attacking their fleet with full force from the start had been a mistake. Even all the cannons of the little southern king wouldn’t stop his warriors from advancing now.

“Prepare for the landing!” Divitius shouted over the sound of the cannons and patted the shoulder of his attendant. “I will leave it in your hands!”

Divitius wasn’t sure if the old warrior understood his words, but he still bowed and drew his axe, before he took off towards the other warriors aboard the ship. With this, the issue of the landing was no longer in the governor’s hands. Although he was the lord of Huaylas and a proper cultivator, he had never been a great warrior anyways.

Not to mention that on the battlefield, he could get killed by any stray shot, be it from a cannon ball or a lead ball. So why would he force himself out there on the front line when he had spent much time and money to train up competent subordinates? They could do all of it for him, both the fighting and the dying.

Soon, the rhythm of the drums behind Divitius sped up, which prompted the rowers to speed up their rhythm as well. They had gone fast before, but now they had become frantic. Animated by their efforts, the ship rushed towards the shore under cannon fire, faster and faster to the deafening sound of drums. The vibrations spread throughout the entire ship and took away everything else, even the noise of the cannons.

When the ship had rocked at the start of the battle, Divitius had fallen over. This time, the lord was ready and didn’t embarrass himself further. Because this time, the impact was planned. Finally, their keel went aground on the Narrow Sea’s shore. By now, the drums no longer followed any rhythm, because they no longer had to.

For they no longer played for the rowing slaves on board, they now played to the warriors only, in preparation for their storm of the beach. Although Divitius wouldn’t go off the ship himself, he still knew what role he had to play. With a confident smile, he drew his axe and held it aloft, in the vague direction of the enemy.

Thus prompted, his warriors were off, to find glory for themselves and victory for their master. Accompanied by drums and screams, they charged to the ship’s bow, past their lord, and jumped off the ship, into the knee-high water. Just like several ships of his fleet had been left behind in their charge across the Narrow Sea, several warriors fell to the fire of cannons and rifles as soon as they landed. Like the ships, their lifeless bodies were left behind in the water and drifted back out to sea with the tide.

However, the remaining men were many, and they were undeterred. Great force emanated from their bodies as they charged up the shallow beach, and towards their enemies. On the way, many more fell to join their fellows in the water. The thick smoke of cannons had long obscured the defensive line up the hill. Only their deadly projectiles would break through the smoke, and take even more lives.

They couldn’t possibly aim through the fog, but they made up for their lack of accuracy with sheer volume At first the fire from the defenders had been a drizzle, but now it had turned into a storm. As their numbers increased over the course of battle, theyno loner had to aim. Many of House Ichilia’s best warriors were left right there, on the beach, and slowly sank into the sand.

Yet many more were there to fill their place. One ship after another completed the landing and spewed out further reinforcements. Soon the first of House Ichilia’s mighty warriors had crossed the gap which seemed so insurmountable, so dangerous to his lord. With a mighty war cry he broke through the wall of smoke and engaged their foes in battle. Now, they had a chance for revenge, to hurt those cowardly commoners as much as they had been hurt themselves, and his men seemed to relish the chance.

Where the first warrior had succeeded, many more soon followed. Great cries of joy burst out of Ichilia’s legions as they broke into the ranks of defenders. Soon, the fire around their first charge lessened, and the smoke made way to let the governor gaze upon the face of battle. By this time, his warriors had long clashed with the defenders, and the defensive line had already begunto buckle as a result.

However, Divitius didn’t believe that they would fall so fast. Although he wasn’t much of a commander, he had never been a negligent man. He had studied every single battle King Corco’s troops had fought over the past few years. He knew well how resilient these commoners were in defense.

Thus, he wasn’t surprised when the commoners withstood the charge in the end. With superior numbers, they bunched up like grapes, Hiding inside holes like rabbits and sticking out their spears like hedgehogs. Before long, they slowly pushed back against his warriors and smoothed out the dent in their formation.

Since they hadn’t been broken by the shock of the first impact, this battle would now devolve into a slow back-and-forth, until one side would be worn down. Many of his men had died in the advance up the beach, but that didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that they had moved combat to a melee, the specialty of his men.

The governor wasn’t worried that he would be outnumbered too badly, despite the bodies left in the sand. There were many more men left on his ships. One by one, they landed to expunge their deadly cargo of flesh and steel. Thus, a steady stream of fresh troops continued to reinforce the front lines.

Even without any coordination or any reserve troops, this approach would naturally replenish his forces as they tired out. They created a steady, never-ending pressure for their foes, until they would break from fatigue. More and more, Divitius felt confident in their victory.

Yet there was something he hadn’t considered, a development that caught him off guard. After the fight had gone on for half an hour, the lord saw distant bodies arrive along the beach from the west. They carried the strange longaxes and muskets of Saniya, and they held high the silver and purple banner of Corcopaca Titu Pluritac, King of the South.

Although their numbers were small, no more than a hundred, soon, another troop of similar size arrived from the east to join the battle. As time went on, more and more ships landed and joined the war, but more and more troops arrived to join the defenders as well.

And they weren’t just Saniya’s commoner soldiers either. Eventually, he also found several troops marching under the flags of prominent southern houses, armed with axes and bearing some of the seven great armor styles of Medala. These were proper warriors, hailing from the same noble line of brave men that had repelled the northern invasion forces in Medala’s civil war thirty years ago.

As more and more troops got involved in the battlefield, and fewer and fewer of his ships remained in reserve, Divitius realized that he had underestimated his foe. With the forces of Governor Mayu looming in the south, why were there so many troops left in the north, and how were they this well-prepared for his surprise attack?

At once, a thought lodged itself into his brain, and just wouldn’t leave anymore. Divitius was convinced: He had been betrayed.

Spuria! Your bastard brat is trying to kill me!

Now he realized that Pacha had sold him out to his fellow king in the south. Why else would the King of the Center suddenly claim that the war in the south had begun, and even promise to join the attack for no reward? Hadn’t it all been to reassure him that it was time to attack himself? And now, he was caught in a trap. No matter how much they hated each other, Corco and Pacha still carried the same family name. Clearly, the two kings had conspired against him, top prevent the rise of Hosue Ichilia once more.

As soon as this thought emerged, Divitius’ mind wandered to retreat. Caught in a conspiracy, he wouldn’t believe in his luck. If he stayed here, he was convinced that he would lose. He had to get away, had to get out of here. Still, their enemies didn’t have any ships, and their cannons were blocked by his warriors. At least retreat wouldn’t be too difficult. As long as he was still alive and retained most of his fleet, there was always a chance for revenge later.

However, before he even took a single step or spoke a single command, his frantic mind cooled again. Lord Divitius had never made any decision in haste, and today was no different. The more he thought, the less a retreat seemed like a viable option.

He had invested too much in this war already. Most of the warriors from Huaylas had been mobilized. If he fled and all of them died or were captured here, he couldn’t even guarantee to preserve his power back home. historical

Not to mention, not everything was lost yet. War wasn’t about numbers alone, even the governor understood that much. Far more, it was about determination and grit. Whoever stood at the end was the winner, no matter how many men he lost. All he needed to do was break the buckling lines of his enemies. As soon as these commoners were routed once, victory would follow.

Even if more and more small troops would arrive from all sides, they would only see their fleeing allies and join in the flight. Now wasn’t the time to think about retreat. Now he needed to find a method with which to overwhelm his enemies, one final push that would topple the buckling ranks.

In frantic thought Divitius looked around, until his eye fell on the slaves still sitting in his ship, oars in their hands. Their sweat from the exhausting journey here had long dried. They looked fresh and ready for new orders.

Only now did Divitius realize: Didn’t he still have a large number of fighters in his hands? They didn’t need to be too strong, did they? All they had to do was scare their enemies silly and cause a rout. On board these ships, he still had as many slaves as he had warriors fighting on the beach. The defenders were buckling already, just a bit more could let them break.

The incoming charge from a massive number of bodies would be enough pressure, surely. If nothing else, it was worth a try. Even in the worst case, he could always let the useless slaves cover the retreat for his valuable warriors. Thus, Divitius stepped up to the cannoneers on the ship’s bow to relay his orders. Since his attendant had left to lead the charge, these were the only warriors left on the ship, so they had to do for now.

“You, warrior,” he addressed one of them.

“Lord!” The warrior stiffened as soon as he saw his master address him directly. However, Divitius had no time to bother with the man’s lack of decorum.

“Get yourself down below deck and bring up any weapons we have in reserve,” he ordered. “Arm the slaves and send them to battle! Whoever doesn’t have a weapon can pick one up on the beach!”

“Yes, Lord!”

Finally, the warrior showed proper poise. Rather than ask questions, he simply took his fellow cannoneers and carried out his master’s command, as he should.

Thus, the last warrior aboard abandoned their post in lieu of their new orders. The cannons were useless anyways. After the intense approach and long fight, they had long run out of cannon balls to fire. As he waited, Divitius once again held onto the barrel of the expensive bronze cannon. This time, the metal was hot to the touch, warmed up from the constant bombardment it had inflicted on the beach.

Then, déjà vu hit. A heavy thunder broke into his ship and swept the governor off his feet. When he stood back up, the men he had just sent away were rushing back towards him. Before he could complain about their insubordination, their leader screamed at him, panic on his face.

“Lord! Ships from behind!”

An icy cold gripped the governor’s heart again as he rushed to the back of the ship, only to see his invasion fleet surrounded. The plumes of smoke from their own cannons, as well as the chaos of battle, had covered a massive fleet of giant warships that had appeared in their backs.

Already, they were well within firing range, shelling them from countless cannons on their flanks, like a fortified wooden wall in the middle of the sea. Finally, Divitius understood the depth of Pacha’s betrayal. King Corco had been well prepared for his arrival, and had long planned his destruction.

Soon, the cannon fire would destroy all their remaining ships, and then it would reach the back line of his warriors on the main battlefield. By then, with the reinforcing troops of enemies in front and cannon galleons in the back, his men would rout, just how he had planned to rout his enemy. All strength left the governor’s body, all that power he had accumulated over decades of rule. By now, one of the most powerful men in Medala was helpless. The battle was over, defeat was certain. The best he could do now was to preserve as much as possible.

Even if he lost here today, he could still choose to surrender. Most of his warriors would remain alive, and most of his ships still remained as well. Huaylas was still one of the richest estates in the kingdom. They would still have the money to retrieve him and all of his men in accordance with the rules of combat. But any second of wavering would only further increase his losses. Thus, he didn’t hesitate for a second to declare his defeat.

“We surrender,” he gave his orders to the warriors. “Raise the-”

Before Divitius could finish, he felt a tingling in the back of his neck, as if some beast was watching him. It was an illusion of course, but he still felt compelled to look back. With his cultivator’s eyes, he could spot the shadow of the cannonball that had been shot from the opposite galleon. Impossibly, it was coming directly towards him. As if in slow motion, he saw the chunk of metal come closer and closer. He tried to move, yet his own limbs felt paralyzed. This was it, the complete loss of control that he had always feared. In his last moments, Governor Divitius Ichilia was trapped, helpless, and paralyzed.

He could only watch as the solid ball of iron became larger and larger in his vision, before it took over everything.