Chapter 405 - 281: Transporting Supplies (2)

"’Alright, when?’ he thought, secretly plotting how he could skim something off the top.

After all, this batch of supplies was aid from the Western Territory. If he didn’t take any, someone else would, so it might as well benefit High Cliff Castle.

"Tomorrow morning. If you go and get ready now, Lord, the timing will be perfect."

...

Though they had said tomorrow morning, the army from the Eastern Territory actually gathered its forces that very night under the bright moon.

Banners carpeted the ground and weapons stood like a forest. The clash of Armor sounded like bells from the Church Court, pronouncing a death sentence upon the horde of Demons.

This strategy, a surprise night attack, was first proposed by an old general from the Eastern Territory named Toka.

He reasoned that since Demons held the advantage at night, no one had ever launched a nocturnal assault. Because of this, the Demons had long since come to assume that humans wouldn’t dare attack them after dark.

Therefore, launching a sudden night raid under these circumstances would yield unimaginable results.

This line of reasoning immediately won the approval of the majority.

The old general was extremely pleased with this result. Smiling, he immediately proposed, "Since I’m the one who came up with this plan, then no one should know how to execute it better than I do. This is a very difficult task, so why don’t you just leave it to me?"

The people who had agreed with the plan looked at his seemingly righteous old face and instantly felt like clowns.

’After all that groundwork, it turned out he was just trying to claim all the glory for himself.’

After all, there were only so many Demons to go around. If one person took a larger share, that meant someone else would get less.

They immediately beat their chests in frustration, all thinking that the old fellow looked so honest and upright, yet he was capable of playing such petty tricks.

Thus, the forty thousand soldiers from the Eastern Territory began to form ranks and advance. They had no intention of hiding their movements, as it was simply impossible to conceal that many people.

First, a row of catapults was brought out. Their stone projectiles were doused in fire oil and lit, and one after another, the blazing spheres—like small suns in the night sky—were hurled toward the distant Demon camp.

The Demons, still in their slumber, were stunned by the bombardment. Humans had never attacked them at night before, and everyone had taken for granted that nighttime was for rest. Now, faced with a sudden attack, most Demons were thrown into a state of confusion. Many more were crushed into a pulp by the rolling Giant Stones while they were still asleep.

Finally, at the roaring command of the High Tier Demons, they managed to rally and face the torch-bearing army approaching in the distance, preparing to resist the attack.

...

"They’ve begun their attack." Damon stood atop the battlements of White Bone Fortress, from where he could easily see the fierce battle unfolding in the Demon camp about a mile away.

However, visibility at night was terrible, so they could only make out a swarm of moving torches and hear the faint sounds of battle.

"Commander Damon, should we open the gates and go out to help?" The speaker was Mudehan. In contrast to his once-handsome face, his cheeks were now so sunken he looked little better than a beggar.

The only difference was that his eyes shone ever brighter, for they were filled with hope.

In fact, it wasn’t just him; the soldiers on the walls were also eagerly looking beyond the city, trying to catch sight of the supplies they had been promised.

"No need. If the Demons seize this opportunity to attack the gate, all our efforts will be wasted." Damon shook his head. Even with hope right before his eyes, he remained cautious. "Go and pass my orders. Tell the soldiers to stay alert and guard the gate. Prevent the Demons from launching a night attack."

"And come straight back after you’ve delivered the message," he added.

The situation was chaotic, and he didn’t want anything to happen to the Minstrel who had once saved his life.

"Yes, sir." Mudehan nodded and hurried away.

"Whew, the reinforcements are finally here." Lancelot felt his whole body relax and was even in the mood for a joke. "I remember when we first started waiting, I didn’t stink this bad. Now, I’m afraid even if I gave a prostitute a Gold Coin, she wouldn’t sleep with me."

"A female prostitute might not, but a male one definitely would." Damon had been a frequent patron of brothels in his youth—he wasn’t called the "Rogue Knight" for nothing—so he immediately took the bait.

Faced with the arrival of reinforcements, both men were in a fairly good mood.

...

While the battle raged up ahead, the Lord was in the rear, unhurriedly sorting through the supplies with a group of Beastman Barbarians.

"Boss, there’s wine over here!"

Suddenly, Zat’s boisterous voice rang out. The Lord, who had been sitting on a pile of burlap sacks taking a big bite of an apple, quickly ran over.

He thrust his sword into a wooden crate and pried it open, revealing a case of oak barrels arranged inside.

"Pour a little, let me have a taste."

Zat immediately heaved one up, pulled out the wooden stopper, and poured some into a cup.

Levi took a slow sip, but the bitter, astringent taste that filled his mouth made him spit it out at once.

"Damn, what kind of horse piss are they trying to pass off on people?"

He had tasted wine brewed by Elves and mare’s milk wine brewed by Centaurs. The two had very different tastes, but he held both in high regard.

But this wine tasted like water steeped with a few sour berries; it was both sour and astringent, and disgusting to drink.

Even Zat, who wasn’t picky at all, took a swig from the barrel, and a pained expression immediately twisted his face. He tossed it back into the crate like a piece of trash.

’I finally get to be a Grain Transport Officer, and for supplies with no clear owner at that. Of course the Lord has to inspect them thoroughly first. It’s not too much to take a few good things to reward myself during the process, is it?’

But he hadn’t expected the quality of the wine, the main prize, to be so terrible.

A bad feeling crept into his heart. He quickly ordered the Barbarians to open crate after crate of supplies. When he saw the neatly stacked contents, he tilted his head back and gave a bitter laugh.

’Of course,’ he thought. ’I should have realized sooner. How good can you expect aid supplies to be?’

The crates were stacked with loaves of black bread, and he could even see pebbles and some other unidentifiable things mixed in.

’Even a dog wouldn’t eat this stuff!’

There was a story about a thief who, on a pitch-black night, snuck into the home of a simple farmer.

In the kitchen, he greedily and swiftly "borrowed" all of the family’s food.

With his work complete, he smugly hoisted the bag full of food, ready to have a perfect, flawless day.

But as he turned to leave, he saw the furious lady of the house, wielding a deadly weapon—a loaf of black bread.

That’s right. A loaf of black bread, which was supposed to be food, had become a deadly weapon.

Although this was just a folk joke popular in Debei, it was a testament to the formidability of this black bread.

With his plan to line his own pockets fallen through, the Lord could only wave his hand in frustration, have all the supplies loaded onto the carts, and head toward White Bone Fortress.

As the battle grew more intense, the Demons’ defensive line was constantly pushed back, but after reaching a certain point, it stabilized.

This was because the Demons that had time to react were now continuously sending reinforcements. If it were daytime, one could see that the plains far from the battlefield were already occupied by Demons, surging forward like a tidal wave.

The Lord knew this was a race against time. If the soldiers from the Eastern Territory couldn’t hold the line, the enraged Demons would vent their fury on High Cliff Castle.

"Faster, you big oaf!" Levi shouted, standing on the shoulder of a Giant. "You’ll get an extra meal when we get back."

He had taken in a whole bunch of these big idiots back in the Wilderness. They possessed immense strength and could survive on grass roots and flour paste, so he used them as manual laborers. They were much more effective than horses or oxen.

After all, horses and oxen needed careful tending and had to be given rest days, but the Giants needed none of that. They were natural-born laborers.

Loads that would require three horses to pull could be handled by a single one of these Giant Beasts—who stood nearly a Quadruple Blade tall and weighed several thousand pounds—with ease.