Chapter 74: Counterattack
Baron Howis sat quietly in the central plaza of the ruined Mountain Ridge Village, which had been completely burned to the ground, for an entire night.
His expression had shifted from initial fury to calm composure.
However, upon closer inspection, it was clear that this Baron of Eastern Mountain Territory, Howis Abres, seemed to have aged several years overnight.
“Father.” A young man quickly approached.
The surrounding soldiers no longer dared to approach their lord carelessly. Since last night, several had already died from severe punishment over responsibilities that normally would not have been pursued.
Though the Lord of Eastern Mountain Territory was not considered a brutal ruler, he certainly could not be called merciful either.
“So it’s you, Mike.” Baron Howis glanced at his eldest son before finally rising to his feet. “Have you brought good news?”
Hearing his father's words, his eldest son, future lord of Eastern Mountain Territory, future Baron of the Abres Family, Mike Abres, suddenly fell silent.
He had not brought good news.
Nor had he brought bad news.
But in the current situation, even someone as dull as a pig could understand that no news was the worst news.
“We have lost.” Seeing his son's demeanor, Baron Howis sighed before speaking. “Pack up. We will return to the Eastern Mountain Territory immediately.”
“Father!”
The moment he heard they were retreating, Mike instantly refused. “If we go back now, then all our losses will never be recovered! Western Wind Territory and Spring Breeze Territory won't show us an ounce of charity!”
“But if we don’t take this chance to leave, then our entire family might be wiped out!” Baron Howis could no longer contain his rage and shouted, slapping his son hard across the face.
“Can’t you learn from your younger brother and look at the bigger picture?”
“What does he know!” Mike’s face flushed red, as if greatly humiliated.
“I’m the one fighting on the front lines! That fool only knows how to throw banquets and sit in the back reaping benefits.”
“The honor of the Abres Family was won by me!”
“Father, if you retreat now, you’re betraying all the soldiers and Household Knights who died in this war! You’re letting them down! You—”
“Smack—” Another slap from Baron Howis interrupted his foolish son's outburst.
He had thought he already understood the extent of his son’s foolishness.
But today, his son managed to surprise him with an even lower level of incompetence.
Baron Howis’s chest heaved violently with rage.
He had already noticed the subtle changes in the gazes of the surrounding soldiers.
The reason war was always accompanied by wealth was because every victor of war could plunder vast riches.
But few remembered that war was a game where the winner takes all, and the loser loses everything.
Now, Eastern Mountain Territory has become the first loser at the table in this game called “war.”
If they pulled out now, the Abres Family would suffer heavy losses and become a laughingstock of the Fertile Territory, but at least they would survive, both the family and the territory.
However, if they continued gambling like desperate losers, hoping to turn the tables...
Baron Howis dared not imagine the consequences.
From his previous understanding of Baron Ster Bole of White Mountain Territory, and the fact that the man had later turned directly to serve Marquis Visen, he knew that Baron Ster was no kind soul.
If their roles were reversed, Baron Howis would have struck Baron Ster down without hesitation. With that in mind, he naturally chose to retreat.
However.
His foolish son had publicly questioned his decision in front of all the soldiers and even invoked “the honor of the Abres Family,” which touched upon the very foundation of noble dignity.
This completely changed the nature of the situation.
Previously, he could have justified the retreat as a strategic withdrawal.
But now, if he still chose to retreat, it would be seen as discarding noble honor, proving beyond doubt that he was a defeated, fleeing dog.
For the Abres Family, this was not some minor embarrassment, it would be a disgrace nailed to the pillar of shame, a blemish on the noble circles of Fertile Territory.
On a larger scale, they would lose Count Shuvaric’s favor entirely. On a smaller scale, the Abres Family would lose all future prospects for noble marriages.
At that moment, Baron Howis felt a strong desire to kill his own eldest son.
But in the next second, he no longer needed to worry about any of this.
Because Ion and Baron Ster had already arrived with their soldiers.
First came a volley of arrows.
The villagers of Mountain Ridge Village didn’t know how to shoot, but Baron Ster Bole’s private soldiers had all undergone basic archery training. So even without aiming accurately, simply drawing and loosing was within their ability.
The first wave of arrow volleys resulted in almost negligible casualties.
Only two or three people were grazed, none had died.
However, the real purpose of this round was to instill panic and confusion.
The second wave soon followed. Though the attackers had drawn slightly closer, the only consequence was the death of one unfortunate soul and another four or five lightly injured. No substantial damage had been inflicted.
Yet the true aim of the second volley was to escalate the panic and disorder already sown by the first.
Then came the third.
“Stay sharp!”
“Do not fear!”
“Look around! The enemy can’t hit a thing!”
“Grab your weapons! Charge with me!”
As the third volley fell, the distance between the two forces had nearly vanished.
But then Mike’s roar rang out.
He raised his long-handled battle axe and let out a thunderous shout before becoming the first to charge toward the enemy.
Following Mike’s lead, the previously panicked soldiers of Eastern Mountain Territory began to regain their composure. Many of them still hadn’t grasped the full situation, their minds were in chaos, but their bodies responded faster than their thoughts: instinctively, they surged forward behind Mike toward the enemy line.
All panic.
All confusion.
Vanished in an instant.
Ion, who had directed and timed the three consecutive volleys to break enemy morale, now found himself with a headache facing an opponent who charged like a wild boar.
He didn’t fear clever enemies on the battlefield.
The more intelligent they were, the more cautious and intricate their strategies became, which made their logic easier to anticipate.
Against such opponents, if one held the upper hand, it was even easier to mislead them into exposing vulnerabilities.
But facing someone with the tunnel vision of a wild boar, now that was difficult.
Just like now.
Ion had prepared several countermeasures: whether the enemy regrouped, attempted to break through, succumbed to chaos, or even launched a desperate counterattack, he had plans for all of them.
The one thing he hadn’t prepared for was the enemy rallying under Mike’s call and launching a direct countercharge. Every plan he’d laid out was now void. He could only meet the enemy head-on.
When two meet on a narrow path, the braver one prevails!
Mike led the charge, swinging his long-handled battle axe in a wide arc.
A powerful stream of air burst forth with his sweeping motion, the axe slashed the air, compressing it into a visible azure whirlwind that surged ahead and ripped several frontline soldiers clean in half.
What was more terrifying was that this air current didn’t dissipate after felling its initial targets. It continued to expand forward.
This clearly wasn’t the bloodline ability of Wind Slash!
Mike had chosen a bloodline path entirely different from his father, Howis!
Ion became a streak of black shadow.
He charged swiftly from the rear to the front.
Black flames engulfed his longsword.
Then he raised the sword and brought it down with force, striking the air blade head-on with his burning weapon.
A crisp shattering sound echoed instantly.
The azure blade was cleaved apart by Ion, dispersing into fading spirals of greenish wind.
Mike’s eyes shone as he locked onto Ion, accelerating further as he charged.
He was like a wild boar on a rampage.
Ion did not retreat either, he advanced directly at Mike. His sword techniques now shifted to heavy, forceful strikes: hew, hack, slash.
In an instant, they clashed six or seven times, each blow sending violent shockwaves outward. Several soldiers from both sides who had charged unaware were caught in the resulting turbulence, before they could even scream, they were either shredded by the shockwaves or incinerated by black flames.
Everyone immediately understood that the center of the battlefield where these two fought was a forbidden zone, and avoided it altogether.
Baron Howis watched the center of the clash with cold eyes for a long moment.
Then, without a word, he turned and left swiftly, not even sparing a glance at his son.
In truth, from the moment Mike questioned his orders and challenged his authority, Howis no longer regarded him as a son.
If the timing had not been so inappropriate earlier, he had even considered killing everyone here on the spot.
After all, if he had forcibly ordered a retreat and led the troops back to Eastern Mountain Territory then, the Abres Family would have been cast out by all nobles!
At least now—
He would not bear the shame of being called a murderer of kin.
But that didn’t mean others would allow him to leave.
A white chill spread rapidly across the ground like a noble’s ceremonial carpet.
Baron Ster Bole of White Mountain Territory stepped forth slowly.
More than ten ice spikes floated around him.
“Baron Howis, where are you off to in such a hurry, leaving your son behind like that?”