Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 118

Chapter 118: End of a ill-born rebellion Chapter 118: End of a ill-born rebellion Alpheo walked slowly among the bodies, his boots squelching in the ground that had mixed with blood.

The air was thick with the stench of death, and the silence was only broken by the occasional groan of a wounded man or the cawing of distant crows circling above.

This would be the third , Alpheo thought as in less than a month he led 3 different battles all in victories, truth be told he felt good about that.  ‘Undefeated once again!’ he cheered again in his mind, as he continued to observe his work.

Bodies lay scattered across the narrow road, many with shattered skulls from the brutal strikes of maces and war hammers.

Some had been pierced by javelins and arrows, the shafts still sticking out of their chests, necks, or backs, like grim markers of their final moments.

Limbs were twisted in unnatural positions, and the once-proud banners of Ormund’s army lay crumpled in the dirt, stained with mud and blood.

Alpheo surveyed the carnage with a calm gaze.

Most of the enemy infantry had broken early in the fight, throwing down their weapons and fleeing into the forest in blind panic.

He hadn’t bothered to send anyone in pursuit; these were peasants and untrained conscripts, scattered and leaderless.

They posed no real threat now, and he had no desire to waste resources on chasing them down.

They would be of no use in the battles to come.

His attention turned to the rows of prisoners being marched away under the watchful eyes of his soldiers.

The captives shuffled along, heads bowed, their faces pale with fear and defeat.

Among them were some notable figures-minor lords and landed knights, stripped of their armor and dignity, now little more than spoils of war.

A few knights still held their heads high, their pride intact even in captivity, while others looked broken, their spirits crushed as they were escorted to the rear.

They had likely thrown their lot in with Ormund in the hope of rising to power or securing more lands, but now they were little more than bargaining chips.

“Keep them secure,” Alpheo ordered one of his officers, his voice steady as he walked past the defeated lords.

“No harm is to come to them unless they give reason for it.They are nobles and must not be mistreated” he said before stopping all at once as he came face to face with an familiar men.

The knight in question noticed Alpheo too, but immediately gave out a sigh of disgust, more of himself than of the young man, and then lowered his head.

Look who is it,Alpheo thought as he gave out a small smile, turning towards one of the men guarding the captives.

”Release that one, have him cleaned and fed,” He said before leaving as the man in response nodded and obeyed , bringing Robert away from the line of prisoners.

The rest of his men continued on with their work , pulling the prisoners toward the back of the camp they had set up for holding them.  As he walked through the battlefield once again , he started revising the battle.

His men had performed well; the ambush had been devastating, almost surgical in its precision.

The left of Ormund’s army had collapsed under the pressure, allowing for a complete encirclement of the centre and the few who had tried to rally were quickly overwhelmed.

Alpheo turned toward Ratto, who had been trailing behind him, wide-eyed as he observed the grim scene of the battlefield.  “Come, Ratto,” Alpheo called, his voice cutting through the uneasy silence.

“It’s time for another lesson.” Ratto hurried closer, his eyes still darting from the fallen soldiers to Alpheo’s steady gaze.

The boy had seen war before, but never from this close, never so brutal.

Alpheo observed him and was pleased that he did not shy from it.

A dog who is fearful of blood is of no use to the hunter…

“Do you see this?” Alpheo gestured to the battlefield with a sweep of his hand.

“This is more than just a slaughter.

It’s controlled chaos.

People and animals, boy-they have the same basic instincts.

Strip away their titles, their training, their comforts,their reasons and what’s left?” Ratto looked up at him, hesitant.

“I don’t know, sir.” Alpheo smiled faintly.

“A beast,” he said, his voice calm but sharp.

“We may think we’re above it, but when pushed to the edge, when stripped of order and reason, we’re no different than cornered animals.No better than the rat swimming in filths or dogs barking at what they can’t comprehend. Fight or flee-those are the choices.” Ratto blinked, absorbing the words, his young face furrowing in thought.

Alpheo continued, “In this ambush, I made sure to leave a gap in the back of their formation.

Not by accident, mind you, but by design.” He pointed toward the far end of the battlefield where the remnants of Ormund’s army had fled into the trees.

“I completely encircled their right flank and their center, but left an opening at the back.

Those who saw it ran.

They didn’t even think-they just fled like prey sensing an escape.” Ratto nodded slowly, following Alpheo’s hand toward the horizon.

“But those on the right,” Alpheo said, his tone darkening, “they had no such luck.

They were trapped, cornered.

And when you trap a beast, Ratto, what do you think it does?” “It fights,” Ratto replied quietly.

“Exactly,” Alpheo said.

“They fought like cornered animals because they saw no way out.

Men without hope fight harder, more savagely, because in their minds, they have nothing to lose.

They become beasts.” Ratto’s eyes flicked to the bodies of those who had resisted until the bitter end, some cut down with swords, others pierced with arrows where they had stood.

“Always remember this lesson,” Alpheo continued.

“A man, no matter how disciplined, can become as wild and desperate as any creature.

But if you give him the option to flee when facing death, most will take it.

That’s how you control a battlefield.” He glanced down at his squire.

“Do you understand?” Ratto nodded, his face pale but thoughtful.

“Yes, sir.” As Alpheo finished speaking to Ratto, a shadow loomed behind him.

The sound of deliberate footsteps crunching through the dirt brought his attention to Shahab, who approached with his usual stern expression.

His armor glinted under the fading sun, and the faintest hint of a angry scowl on his face “Finished with the lesson, boy?” Shahab asked, his tone carrying a touch of mockery.

His eyes briefly flicked over Ratto before settling back on Alpheo.

“While you were teaching, the primary objective of your little ‘controlled chaos’-Lord Ormund-escaped.

Or did you fail to notice?” Alpheo smiled, a calm and almost dismissive smile, as if Shahab’s words hadn’t unsettled him in the slightest.

He turned to face him fully, hands resting lightly on his hips.

“Nothing to worry about.” Shahab’s smirk vanished, his brow furrowing deeply.

“Nothing to worry about?” His voice carried a sharp edge of disbelief.

“Are you out of your mind?

We had him-you had him.

And now he’s gone, riding off with his son and what remains of his riders.

Are you telling me that doesn’t matter?” Alpheo met his gaze with a cool confidence, his smile unwavering.

“What I’m telling you,” he said, his voice steady but with a hint of amusement, “is that their bodies will be laid down at my feet by the end of the day.” ”You are mad.

I thought you had some trace of sharpness in you or something at least similar to sense , I was wrong apparently.” He simply answered Almost on cue, the thundering sound of hooves filled the air as Egil and his riders appeared at the edge of the battlefield.

Dust kicked up in their wake, and the group rode with a sense of grim satisfaction.

Among them, two bodies draped in cloaks were slung over the backs of horses, their shapes motionless and unmistakably lifeless.

The riders approached Alpheo, and with a subtle nod from their captain, the two cloaked figures were unceremoniously thrown down at Alpheo’s feet.

”Perhaps you were wrong twice, lord Shahab” he briefly said Alpheo glanced at the bodies , raised the linen to see their faces before turning to Shahab who nodded.

When he raised the linen on the smaller body, seeing the young face with his throat slit, he felt nothing,he was not the first boy he killed.

Perhapse this surprised Shahab, who gave him a brief gaze before turning his eyes away “Who swung the sword?” he asked, his voice gleeful Two of the riders dismounted, stepping forward from the group.

Their faces, dirty from the ride and battle, still held a quiet pride.

Alpheo reached out, patting each man on the shoulder with an approving nod.

“Well done,” he murmured, turning to the others.

“80 silverii each for these two.” The men’s eyes widened at the reward.

They offered quick thanks, their voices filled with gratitude.

“Thank you, captain!” one of them managed to say, his tone almost breathless.

Alpheo waved off their words with a dismissive gesture, already turning his attention elsewhere.

“Take them away,” he ordered, his voice now cold and matter-of-fact as he motioned toward the lifeless bodies at his feet, sweeping them aways as if they were trash .

Without another word, his men moved to obey, the bodies dragged off as Egil’s riders began to retreat into the ranks.

Alpheo remained standing, casting a final glance toward Shahab, whose face now held a reluctant acknowledgment of his commander’s foresight.

Shahab narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to Alpheo as the two stood over the fallen bodies.

“How did you know?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

Alpheo let out a light chuckle, shaking his head as if the answer were obvious.

“People of power,” he began, his voice smooth and confident, “are easy to predict….

These men ran off with horses.

These are beasts they spent years and formed a bond with, and most men would be reluctant to abandon them.

When they managed to create a gap, which I did not account for, they immediately rode off with their steed, thinking they could escape, the question however, was where?” He paused, glancing at the tree line with a wry smile.

“Riding on horse ,through a forest is nothing short of a death sentence.

Too many trees, too little space.

So, they avoided it.

Naturally, that left only one choice-the road.Where they could see ahead of them, fools did not even think that the opposite was the same” He paused again, enjoying the moment as Shahab listened in silence.

“The road, where my cavalry was riding ready to strike the van.

When they saw riders coming toward them, they simply did their job.” Alpheo’s grin widened as he finished, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.

Shahab stood there, digesting the explanation.Without another word, he turned on his heel, his brows furrowed in thought as he walked away, not giving Alpheo the satisfaction to his bewildered expression.

Alpheo watched Shahab’s retreating figure, the corners of his lips curling into a faint smile.

With a contented sigh, he turned back toward the forest, where the promise of warmth awaited.

The cold bite of the day was nothing compared to the fire he could now enjoy-both the one in the woods and the one that still burned in his chest.