Chapter 440: You're the One That Is Surrounded (1)
Woroqa had brought with him an army of sixty thousand warriors. It was more than enough to sweep through the North entirely.
Blocking their path was the Forces of Raypold, numbering only ten thousand.
Yet, in a single skirmish, Woroqa lost a staggering ten thousand warriors, while the enemy barely suffered any casualties.
Though Woroqa wanted to pursue and attack immediately, he couldn’t. He couldn’t determine whether the retreat was genuine or just a trap.
“Ugh... That woman... How dare she!”
It was a disgrace to him as a warrior. In the long history of the North, no one had ever suffered such a devastating defeat at the hands of a woman except him.
Before his eyes lay only the corpses of his warriors. Raypold's soldiers were nowhere to be seen among the dead.
This was the inevitable result of being caught in a perfectly executed strategy.
The warriors began whispering amongst themselves.
“Did we... just lose?”
“Isn’t their commander a woman? And yet, we’ve suffered this much?”
“What exactly happened to us?”
The warriors, wearing expressions of shame, cast wary glances at Woroqa. Doubt began creeping into their minds about his competence.
After all, the tribes had been forcibly united due to food shortages. Their loyalty to Woroqa was nonexistent.
Sensing the growing unease, Woroqa roared in anger.
“What are you all doing?! Tend to the battlefield and set up camp! This isn’t even a major loss! We still outnumber them by far, so we’re bound to win! They retreated because they’re too weak to keep fighting!”
The losses were enormous, but Woroqa had to downplay them to maintain control over his warriors.
There wasn’t much to do on the battlefield. They couldn’t clear all the corpses, so they simply gathered usable weapons and surviving horses.
Leaving their dead behind, the barbarian army advanced a little further. They couldn’t rest surrounded by piles of corpses.
They hastily pitched tents, tied up their horses, and began to rest.
“Ugh, I’m so tired.”
“Let’s just relax for a bit.”
“Yeah, let’s get a good night’s sleep.”
Simple-minded as they were, the warriors quickly forgot how many of their comrades had died. With so many tribes involved, half of the army felt like strangers anyway.
Even those who hadn’t fought directly were fatigued by the tension. It had been a major battle, after all.
Though their camp was in disarray, no one seemed concerned. Everyone knew there was no other army left in the North. The Raypold forces their only opposition had retreated.
“There’s no one left to fight us, right?”
“Exactly. Let’s just sit back and relax.”
“Even the ones we fought earlier ran away.”
Woroqa didn’t bother enforcing discipline. Angering the warriors further wasn’t worth the risk.
‘Damn it. That woman has completely ruined my reputation.’
All he could do was curse Amelia silently through gritted teeth.
The barbarians had little experience with large-scale encampments. They didn’t even think of properly fortifying their camp. Being accustomed to raiding in small groups, they had never needed one before.
The resting warriors were abruptly awakened in the early hours of dawn by the sudden sound of galloping hooves.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
“Get up!”
“Enemies! We’re under attack!”
“Where are they coming from?!”
The barbarian warriors, groggy from sleep, scrambled to grab their weapons.
They hadn’t expected an attack, and chaos ensued as they fumbled around in confusion.
Woroqa stormed out of his tent, shouting at the top of his lungs.
“Get it together! Form ranks! Prepare to fight!”
The warriors hastily tried to organize themselves into some semblance of a formation.
But nothing happened.
‘I could’ve sworn I heard hoofbeats...?’
The entire camp fell silent as everyone strained their ears.
Thud-thud-thud-thud...
The sound grew fainter, circling the area as though toying with them. No one could discern the attackers' intent.
The warriors, tense and on edge, could only glance nervously around in the dark. The night was too black to see anything beyond a short distance.
They remained in a state of tension until dawn. When nothing happened all night, the exhausted warriors finally slumped to the ground.
“Damn it! What was that?!”
“Did they just come and leave?”
“Maybe they didn’t attack because we were already awake?”
Despite their fatigue, the warriors began to chatter excitedly. Some even claimed the enemy had fled out of fear.
But Woroqa, who had spent the entire night sleepless, could only grind his teeth.
“That damn woman... How dare she toy with me...”
The intention was obvious. They had come simply to unsettle us and keep us on edge.
Their scheme was clear: to irritate us and deny us proper rest.
At this rate, continuing the march was impossible. Everyone had fought battles and hadn’t had the chance to rest properly.
“I won’t fall for the same trick twice.”
Woroqa decisively halted the march and let the warriors rest during the day. Since there was still some time, he planned to rest during the day and move at night.
With their superior vision, they would be able to spot an approaching army from afar during daylight.
But that wasn’t all.
“They gave me a good idea. We’ll launch a night raid, too.”
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. If they couldn’t rest, then neither would the enemy.
Their forces were significantly larger. By dividing their troops and taking turns disrupting the enemy, they could quickly wear them down.
“Send out the reconnaissance team first. They’re probably waiting nearby to intercept us.”
Following Woroqa’s orders, a group of barbarian scouts scoured the area and eventually located the camp of Raypold’s forces, some distance away.
During the day, after getting adequate rest, a thousand barbarian warriors moved to raid the Raypold camp.
Of course, their goal wasn’t to cause an actual clash. They intended to exhaust their foes using the same tactics that had been used against them.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
“Kyaaaahooo!”
“Wake up, you bastards!”
“Ahahaha! We’re here!”
The barbarian warriors, accustomed to raids and pillaging, relished the chaos. Upon discovering the Raypold camp, they circled nearby, making an enormous ruckus.
Naturally, there was some commotion in the Raypold camp as well.
Torches multiplied, and soldiers emerged, readying themselves for battle.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
“Hehehe, I’d love to charge in right now.”
Some of the more reckless warriors shifted restlessly. A thousand men was no small number. Even a direct charge could inflict significant damage on the enemy.
However, their sole objective was to keep the enemy tense and unable to sleep. Thus, they didn’t attempt anything more.
The barbarians continued to mock the Raypold soldiers.
“Hey, look! They’re scared stiff.”
“They’re as stiff as boards, I tell you.”
“You think we’d let you mess with us and not pay you back?”
The Raypold troops maintained their formation but didn’t pursue the barbarians or give chase. Pursuing at night was too risky.
The barbarian warriors freely circled the camp, shouting and causing a disturbance.
Having accomplished their goal of agitating the enemy, they turned their horses to head back. The dark night forced them to rely solely on moonlight.
“Alright, let’s head back. Time to switch shifts with the next group.”
As they distanced themselves from the Raypold camp
Fwoosh!
Suddenly, countless lights appeared on both sides.
“Huh? What? What’s happening?”
While the warriors were taken aback, hundreds of flaming arrows soared into the dark sky, descending like meteors into their ranks.
Thud-thud-thud!
“Arghhh!”
Neighhhh!
Warriors and horses struck by the arrows screamed and tumbled to the ground.
There had been no sign of an enemy presence earlier. This meant they had been lying in wait at a distance before closing in.
“Move quickly!”
“Who the hell are these bastards?”
“Run! Get out of here!”
The barbarian warriors, caught off guard, panicked. Arrows flew in from both sides, making it nearly impossible to respond effectively in the dark.
In the end, the only thing they could do was flee the area as quickly as possible and return.
Seeing the battered warriors return in a pitiful state, Woroqa’s rage boiled over.
“Ugh…”
They had played right into Amelia’s hands. She had anticipated his move and set up an ambush. Thinking back, her forces had already rested for a full day.
Overcome with fury, Woroqa wanted to lead his entire army and charge in immediately.
But unlike other barbarians, Woroqa was a more deliberate thinker. With morale already plummeting, who knew what other traps awaited them? It wasn’t worth the risk.
Eventually, the other tribal chiefs came to confront him.
“Another day has passed. It’s already been three days since we reached the northern approach.”
“By now, the Wolf of the North is probably finished battling the Rift.”
“Our plans keep failing. What are we going to do? We’re overwhelming in numbers; let’s just push through!”
At their prodding, Woroqa growled.
“Didn’t you learn anything from the last fight? Who knows what traps they’ve laid this time!”
“So what? Are we just going to waste more time?”
“I’m saying we need to proceed with more caution.”
Woroqa was just as anxious. They needed to destroy Ferdium and Fenris’ infrastructure and secure their strongholds quickly.
He had intended to make the enemy nervous with diversionary tactics, but it was they who had ended up flustered.
“For now, let’s wait for dawn, reassess their camp, and then decide.”
The tribal chiefs left with disgruntled expressions following Woroqa's decision. Already fraught with animosity, their trust in him was rapidly eroding.
At dawn, another scouting party was sent out, only to find that Raypold’s forces had already moved their camp elsewhere.
“Phew…”
Woroqa bit his lip in frustration, lost in thought. The damage suffered during their first engagement lingered heavily in his mind.
Uncertainty about the enemy’s intentions fed his unease, and the march slowed as they checked for traps similar to the first encounter.
Proceeding cautiously, they rested for another day. It was now the fifth day, and time was slipping away.
‘If that Crimson Demon gets consumed by the Rift, all the better… But if he manages to seal it…’
The thought alone was dreadful. They had to crush Ferdium and Fenris and establish a foothold as soon as possible.
During this tense period, one of the chiefs proposed a new idea.
“What if we split the forces?”
“Split the forces?”
“Yes. Our main body is slowed down by hauling all the provisions. Why not detach a part of the army to seize nearby undefended territories? They’re all empty, aren’t they?”
“Hmm…”
“There’s no way that Amelia woman can defend everything on her own. She’d prioritize holding off our main force.”
It was a reasonable suggestion. After all, beyond Ferdium and Fenris, they needed to capture and fortify at least one other territory to prepare for the outcome of the fight between the Rift and Ghislain.
“Fine, send 3,000 warriors.”
That number would be more than enough to overrun an unguarded territory quickly. Any more would compromise their mobility, making 3,000 the optimal size.
Thus, a detachment of 3,000 warriors split from the main army. Given the open northern passage, there was enough room to maneuver separately.
Woroqa, thinking strategically, issued orders.
“Send scouts to find Raypold’s camp again. Keep an eye on them. If they notice our detachment and divide their forces, we’ll strike immediately.”
The enemy scouts would likely detect the detached unit. If Raypold’s forces split to counter the detachment, it would pull thousands of soldiers away, disrupting whatever plans they had.
However, what Woroqa didn’t realize was that a lone crow had been circling above his forces.
About half a day later, the scouts returned with their report.
“We’ve located Raypold’s camp. They haven’t made any movements and are just staying put!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! Since the moment we spotted them, they’ve been completely inactive!”
Satisfied with the report, Woroqa nodded. This was sufficient. He felt reassured that capturing another territory would now be feasible.
Still, Ferdium and Fenris had to be dealt with swiftly for complete security.
“Good. Rest for today. Tomorrow, we’ll confront Raypold’s forces again.”
Raypold’s forces likely understood the situation. They were probably too preoccupied weighing their options to make a move.
Woroqa intended to attack them after his warriors had rested and their morale was high.
However, as dawn approached, Woroqa received shocking news.
“Annihilated…?”
“Yes… Ambushed…”
One of the warriors from the detached force, bloodied and battered, returned to deliver the grim news. Their entire unit had been wiped out in a surprise attack by an army that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
“Where? There shouldn’t be any other armies in the North!”
“It… it bore Raypold’s insignia.”
“Raypold?”
“Yes, I’m certain.”
“But how? They haven’t moved! How did they get there?”
The warrior looked bewildered, unsure how to reconcile what he had witnessed with Woroqa’s disbelief. Raypold’s forces had definitely been the attackers, yet Woroqa insisted that they hadn’t moved.
“Ugh… Don’t tell me… Did they anticipate this from the start and secretly deploy troops? Did I fall for it again? That damned woman outmaneuvered me again!”
Woroqa’s face turned beet red with rage as he bellowed repeatedly.
In hindsight, the scouts had only reported that Raypold’s forces hadn’t moved. They hadn’t mentioned how many soldiers remained in their camp.
It was humiliating. As the Great Warchief of the North and the dominant leader of the tribes, he had been outmaneuvered multiple times by the same army.
And not by the infamous Crimson Demon, but by a woman of no renown.
The other tribal chiefs could no longer hold back their frustrations.
“If this is how it’s going to be, we’re pulling out. We’ll go capture other territories on our own.”
“Just face them head-on and crush them!”
“Why do we keep getting pushed around like this? Six days have already passed!”
To them, Woroqa’s cautious approach made no sense. Hadn’t this same caution led to the humiliating treaty with the Crimson Demon before?
On top of that, a significant amount of time had elapsed. The battle with the Rift might already have reached its conclusion by now.
Fighting the Rift was different from battling humans. Once the fight started, it would be decided quickly victory or defeat since the fighting never stopped.
“We must destroy the infrastructure of Ferdium and Fenris as quickly as possible.”
“Only then can we rampage freely across the North.”
“Even if the Crimson Demon loses, the Northern Army will still exist. He’ll bring them here.”
If Ghislain survived and retreated, the Northern Army would eventually arrive. Everything needed to be wrapped up before that happened.
“I know! I’m well aware!”
Woroqa growled in irritation, as though dismissing their complaints as beneath him. Stupid barbarians they dared to lecture him?
But the urgency of the situation couldn’t be ignored. Finally, Woroqa decided to gamble everything on a final, decisive battle.
“We’ll strike Ferdium directly. Tear down the lord’s castle entirely.”
Raypold’s forces would undoubtedly block their way again. They would crush them with the full might of their army.
“Let’s go!”
At dawn, Woroqa and his warriors, seething with fury, began their march.
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
They moved relentlessly, even leaving the supply unit behind to follow at a slower pace.
By then, Raypold’s forces had moved again. The barbarians continued advancing toward Ferdium.
Before long, they encountered Raypold’s army, stationed on a plain.
“A wide-open space. Perfect.”
Woroqa muttered to himself as he surveyed the terrain.
The northern passage was already behind them. Now, on this vast plain, they could fight freely. It was an ideal battlefield for cavalry.
Even Amelia, who had been stalling for time with petty tactics, would have no options here.
“Are they planning to fight with the river at their back?”
A river flowed along one side of the plain. To the barbarians, it was on their left; to Raypold’s forces, it was on their right.
On the left side of Raypold’s formation, a distant thicket stood.
Though it was a plain, any formation stretched too thin risked being surrounded by cavalry.
Woroqa sneered at the sight of Raypold’s long, stretched-out line.
“So, they’re planning to make their last stand here.”
Their army seemed to be the same size as before. There was no sign of reinforcements.
With far fewer soldiers than Woroqa’s, their strategic options were limited. They were clearly trying to make the best use of the terrain to hold their ground.
“They’re easy to crush. I won’t fall for the same tricks again.”
This battlefield was far wider than the previous one, allowing Woroqa to deploy his full strength. Whatever tactics they attempted, he was confident he could overwhelm them.
Grinding his teeth, Woroqa glared at Raypold’s forces.
“This ends here, today.”
He intended to leave none of them alive.
As the barbarians prepared for battle, Amelia sat on a chair, observing their movements. A crow approached her.
“Nyaaang!”
Startled by Bastet’s cry, Dark flinched and frowned before speaking.
“I’m back… ma’am.”
Amelia asked with an indifferent expression.
“Are the preparations ready?”
“They’re all set… ma’am.”
“Good. You’ve done well.”
Closing her eyes softly, Amelia murmured in a low voice.
“It ends today.”
She, too, had no intention of letting any of the barbarians live.