Building a Kingdom and Conquering the World - Chapter 104

Chapter 104: Riot
A riot broke out in Aritreia’s army as desperate soldiers on the frontline witnessed the red wave of Stahl approaching them. They looked at each other’s faces and recognized the deep fear etched in their eyes and souls. At that moment, as if a silent agreement had been made, the soldiers dropped their shields and ran towards the forest, leaving only their footsteps behind. In a matter of seconds, the first defense of Aritreia fell apart, with the first soldier to disband acting as the spark for such an explosion.

Only a few weeks ago, they were normal villagers, whose battle experiences were limited to hunting down ordinary bears and squirrels, required to sustain their families through the year and pay their taxes. And those who had been soldiers all their lives were mostly nobles and their descendants, but all of them remained at the back of the army, surrounding the king and guaranteeing their survival. Not a single one of them dared to stand at the front, leading to a great loss of morale.

This situation was infuriating. They were just ordinary citizens, whose unlucky fate led to soldiers knock on their doors with a royal decree, compelling them to pack up their belongings and march north, without a single day of training. They had been given weapons and told to fight for the king, without giving them a way out. There was no loyalty to the nobles or the royal family, and if any existed, it shattered upon witnessing the sight of the red horses.

Alonso, who tried to shout and control his people, could only watch with desperate eyes as his army fell apart, breaking the phalanx and giving the enemy enough space to easily reach him – “Those who abandon their positions will have their whole lineage exterminated!”- he threatened, but no matter how loudly he shouted, those soldiers didn’t seem to listen. They kept abandoning their position, following the lead of others.

Suddenly, Duke Latrel urged his horse forward, sword already unsheathed and raised high with one hand while gripping the horse’s reins with the other. His eyes were cold and merciless as he looked at the rioting soldiers. Since these people refused to listen, he would have to clear their ears and mind.

The duke swiftly guided his horse toward the frontlines – “Get out of the way!” – he shouted furiously, forcing his horse forward without regard for the soldiers’ health in its path. He trampled over them, causing some to fall to the ground with bleeding injures and cracked bones. The horse also trampled over the dead bodies of the archers, not giving them any respect.

In a matter of seconds, he was already at the frontlines where the disbanding of the soldiers continued and even intensified. At that moment, only a few bearing shields remained on their positions. However, they hadn’t fled due to fear or loyalty to the nobles, but because they were paralyzed with fear, unable to force their legs to move, rooted to the same spot. Their minds telling them to run away, but their bodies unable to listen.

“Return to your posts, all of you!” – Bellowed duke Latrel, his horse dashing towards one of the treacherous soldier. With a swift stroke, his blade cleaved through the air and struck the back of the soldier’s head, leaving the snow beneath stained with the blood of the disloyal dog.

Without remorse, the duke continued, killing another five soldiers in rapid succession and controlling the riot. The remaining soldiers were gripped by fear, casting anxious glances between Latrel’s figure and the forest.

“We don’t have much time!” – He roared; his voice tinged by a threatening tone. He would cut anyone who didn’t listen – “Your worthless lot! I won’t repeat myself! Return to your posts! Take one more step, and my blade will pass judgment, wiping your lineage from existence!”

It was impossible to pursue and get back those who had fled into the forest, but he managed to control the situation at hand and stop more disbandment. The calvary of Stahl was already closing in and he didn’t have much time, completely reforming the phalanx was almost impossible. There was no time to pick up the shields and arm the soldiers with it. Latrel thought that this was already a lost fight. It was impossible to win this fight and capturing the capital could be considered a fleeting dream.

“The spearmen will maintain the frontline!” – Duke Latrel commanded, his travelling across the trembling soldiers. He could see their eyes furtively looking at the forest, tempted to run away, but fear kept them at bay. – “If a single one of you dares to flee, I’ll personally pursue you into that forest and see to it that your head rolls!” – Another cold warning followed.

The soldiers had no other option but to accept their fate, unable to take another step under the duke’s glinting sword. They could only curse themselves for missing the right timing to run towards the forest. Their fear for the noble class had been ingrained in their minds over centuries of oppression. It was too strong to overcome, leaving them powerless to revolt in front of the duke’s figure.

While this scene might appear to have taken several minutes, everything transpired within a brief period of time, providing Latrel and the soldiers enough time to prepare again for the upcoming wave. The spearmen stood on the front line without a shield barrier, holding their spears poised forward, ready to strike the approaching horses. The remaining soldiers huddled together, gripping their weapons, each one trembling with fear.

The narrowness of the White Merchant Road and the close distance between each other allowed them to hear and feel the rapid breaths of their comrades. They could hear their hearts beating faster and their hands sweating, almost losing the grip on their weapons. It was an atmosphere mixed with fear and regret for not running away, one that spread rapidly across the battlefield.

Duke Latrel paid no attention to their anxious minds and shifted his gaze toward the enemies. The once-distant red wave, which had exterminated a significant part of the soldiers, was now close enough for an expert such as himself to discern their features. The duke could even see the red eyes of the old man leading the army with his sword held high and poised to kill his way forward.

“I can’t stay here…” – The Duke immediately thought. The first line was the first to be eliminated, without a single soul expected to be alive and he for sure wasn’t ready to die. He wanted to live as long as possible and die of old age. He wasn’t as courageous and battle maniac as the barbarians.

The duke quickly pulled on the reins of his horse and guided it towards the forest. The only way back to his position was through the forest, as the soldiers had formed a tight formation, blocking any other route. He entered the forest, deciding to return to the king’s side, return to the safety and away from the frontlines while he still had time.

Alonso, who had been watching everything unfold from the back of the army, couldn’t help but breathe heavily. Seeing that Duke Latrel had managed to take control of the army, he remarked with a smile appearing on his lips- “I will reward him with two of the conquered mines when we manage to take over these lands” – His hair was still messy, and the crown sat lightly on his head. This messy image didn’t seem to be fit for a king.

Soon after, the cavalry of Stahl clashed with Aritreia’s soldiers, the sound of steel ringing loudly across the Merchant Road, disturbing the wildlife in the forest and painting the snow red.