strictlysupreme Chapter 966 The Eve of War
Chapter 966 The Eve of War
Chapter 966 The Eve of War
Two giant red-scaled dragons, each about forty meters long, descended from the sky. One of them had a spiral horn, a slender body, and looked quite "graceful." It was the unicorn lizard dragon that the Obsidian Dragon had sent to Lothar's side.
Although the two fire dragons are not usually included in Lothar's combat system, it does not mean that they are weak. After all, they are adult high-level dragons, and it is common for them to destroy a town with their dragon flames.
Rumi saw three beautiful women leap down from the dragon's back. Their lithe bodies landed on the ground, and they straightened up after only slightly bending their knees.
He knew that this must be the witch beside the "pagan king who sold his soul to the devil and witches" that the Zoroastrian church had preached.
They are indeed very beautiful. If the devil looked like this, I wonder how many people would be willing to fall at their feet.
But he quickly looked away from the witches. Since His Majesty the new king had decided not to let these superhumans interfere in the current battle, the witches were far less attractive to him than the warriors who were about to appear.
They wore simple yet bright plate armor, cloaks in three colors embroidered with crosses, and simple bone rosaries. Their faces were filled with compassion and kindness, like the most devout monks.
But each of them exudes the aura of a battle-hardened warrior.
They climbed down from the dragon's back using the chains and quickly surrounded Lothar.
They were all elites among the knights of the Order, each possessing considerable holy light power, almost equivalent to the level of a non-elite five-star squire, and were also the largest supernatural force under Lothar's command.
Rumi, however, was clearly unaware of this and asked with some disappointment, "Your Majesty, is this our first batch of reinforcements?"
"What, you don't think that's enough?"
“I must admit, they are absolutely the most elite warriors, but aren’t their numbers too few? I’ve heard of a spell that can make someone travel thousands of miles in an instant. If Your Majesty could send your elite troops into the city silently, it would definitely catch the Tatars off guard.”
Rumi's face showed a hopeful expression. He was not a coward, otherwise he would not have dared to disobey the Tatars' demands and hold out in Khovezan. However, he was also well aware of the difference in strength between the two sides.
Lothar smiled and looked at the tallest of the three witches: "My lady, she is equivalent to an army by herself."
Rumi was somewhat puzzled: "Your Majesty's witches naturally possess unimaginable power, but didn't you say that you had reached an agreement with the Tatar spellcasters not to interfere in the war?"
Lothar smiled and said, "Does Governor Rumi believe that one must keep promises even to barbarians?"
"Of course not! I just..."
Rumi was worried that if the gods fought, mortals would suffer.
Lothar was well aware of this, so he said with a smile, "We will assist in the battle in the most discreet way. Believe me, the spellcasters on the Tatar side will not be so honest."
This day was spent in intensive preparations.
The next day, Governor Rumi woke up early in the morning with bloodshot eyes, clearly having not slept much the night before.
There were clearly many in Howezan's garrison who, like him, had not slept all night. While eating breakfast, they would occasionally look up and peer around, worried that the Tatars might launch a surprise attack without warning.
Wuwuwu——
The deep, resonant sound of bull horns slowly rose, and the massive Tatar camp seemed to come alive, revealing its fangs of war.
Dangdang——
Thick smoke billowed from the sacred fire altar in Hovezan, and the priests rang the alarm bells.
Squads of soldiers hurriedly picked up their weapons and climbed onto the city wall.
Governor Rumi climbed to the top of the tower.
He proclaimed, “The Tatars, those executioners, butchers, and bandits are back! Brothers, our reinforcements are on their way, but they can’t sprout wings and fly to us. Right now, His Majesty’s dragon and the Tatar shaman are locked in a tug-of-war, neither of them able to make a move. Therefore, this is a battle between us mortals.”
"Historically, in the Battle of Persia Gate, our ancestors held off Alexander's army of 17,000 men for a whole month with only 2,000 men. We outnumber them, so can't we hold out for a month as well?"
Persegate is also one of the important passes in the Zagros Mountains, located north of Isfahan.
"can!"
The defenders raised their arms and shouted.
For some reason, Governor Rumi could clearly feel that the morale of his soldiers had increased significantly. This was probably due to the prestige of the new king and his dragon. Even without taking action, just having them by his side was a great source of support.
A flame ignited in his heart: "Moreover, it won't take a month. If we just hold out for three more days, the reinforcements will cut off the Tatars' rear and wipe out these villains at the foot of Mount Zagros."
"Hold on for three days at all costs, that's our goal!"
He held up three fingers, then suddenly exclaimed, "For our loved ones and compatriots who perished, for our trampled, burned, and destroyed homeland, let us fight!"
"revenge!"
"Kill all the barbarians!"
The shouts of battle were deafening, so much so that Rumi had to raise his hand several times before the crowd quieted down again.
He added, "Fight for the sake of the city's churches, shrines, and altars, so that they will not be trampled by barbarians, and for the sake of our faith!"
Justification by faith!
Long live Christ!
"May the sacred flame burn forever!"
Whether they were Nestorian Christians or Zoroastrians, they put aside their differences and joined hands.
As Rumi watched this scene of unity and determination, hot tears welled up in his eyes. He looked at the knights who, at some point, had raised the dragon-headed banner and the double-headed eagle banner on the city wall, and the emperor they were surrounding.
"When Bahram and his courtiers had abandoned us, who was it that risked their own safety to come to our aid alone? The Howezan people loudly told me the answer!"
His voice rose higher and higher until he was hoarse and exhausted, which looked particularly comical.
"It's His Majesty the Emperor!"
"It's His Majesty Lothar!"
"Fight for His Majesty the Emperor!"
The defenders' shouts were like crashing waves; they pounded their shields and roared rhythmically, "Revenge! Revenge!"
The Tatar camp outside the city.
Ivan was silently wiping the blade in his hand.
This time, they once again went into battle as the vanguard, but Jochi Khan specially transferred half a centurion of the Kheshig to his command, supposedly to compensate for his losses in the first round of siege.
"Tell me, are these people supervisors or compensation recipients?"
Fulke, who had been silently drinking mare's milk wine, looked up and said, "You can try sending them all out in the first wave of the siege. If they refuse, it means they are the former."
Ivan chuckled. What Fulke said could indeed verify the answer, but he absolutely could not do it.
Do you think the Tatars have a chance of winning?
"What do you think?"
The two looked at each other speechlessly.
Even if they truly believed that the Tatars were doomed to defeat, they could not reveal their intention to preserve their strength in the short term. They would wait until the decisive battle, when no one could attend to them, before Ivan's tribe would have the opportunity to withdraw at their leisure.
"Brother, one day, we will take control of our own destiny and stop being a nobody who just goes with the flow."
Will that day ever come?
Fulke looked somewhat tired. He had once been the most devout Christian knight, but fate had played him for a fool, reducing him to a mere chieftain of the grasslands. They fought and expanded their strength without ever stopping, but they were always just pawns in the hands of others.
Driven by the Yelü family, driven by Kuchlug, and later followed the Tatars.
At this moment, even the usually optimistic Ivan seemed to lack confidence.
His face fell, and he murmured softly, "Yes, that day will come."
After a brief moment of dejection, the Tatar commander, who had risen from slavery, straightened his back again: "Brother, take out your cross. I have already prayed to the Holy Fire. Now, we must ask Jesus to bless us."
"Bless us with what? To defeat Emperor Saint Losa, God's favorite?"
Fulke felt a sense of absurdity, as if God were willing to manifest His power and the first thing He would do would be to strike him, the traitor, dead.
"Of course not, it's to bless our wise and mighty Holy Losa, and to bless his little pet so that it really won't pour dragon fire on our heads, just as the Tatar shaman said."
Having said that, Ivan raised his voice.
"Brothers of the Ivan tribe, take up your weapons and polish your armor. The exiles are about to face their nightmares once again. This time, let our old adversaries see the combat skills we have honed on the steppe over the years."
The soldiers of Ivan's tribe silently rose, picked up their shields and weapons, and carried the siege ladders.
Fulke sighed softly. After this battle, no one knew how many of Ivan's elite troops would return. Everyone knew it was a deadly road destined to be difficult, but as Tatar conscripts, they had no choice.
"They're almost here, brother. This time, we'll fight side by side, either we live together or we die together!"
Ivan's voice called out from the front.
Without further hesitation, Fulke picked up his weapon and followed—just because Ivan had saved his life, he might as well return it to him.