Log InRegister
    Read Free Web Novels Online

    Tristan crossed the divide between the wall and the arrayed army. He didn’t worry about being quiet, as the clatter of the offensive force getting their weapons and equipment ready more than masked any sounds he would make. He got all the way through to the back lines and made for the supply train that lay another few-hundred feet away.

    Slowing down to catch his breath, he approached along one of the dirt paths; not on the dirt itself, as to avoid kicking it up or coating his greaves. Instead, he made sure to walk on the tramped-upon grass from the army’s advance – hiding his approach. The supply train was full of people in light clothing, not armed and armored soldiers.

    And why would they have guards back here, Tristan thought. No need to have any soldiers when the opponents are in front, and they plan to break the city with the siege equipment.

    The army began to give up shouts as the gates far off from Tristan ponderously swung open. There was hesitation amongst the lines, but ultimately the army slowly advanced towards the open gates – arrows raining down from them all the while. Most of those arrows were useless as they impacted the mobile palisades, and some return fire was exchanged.

    A handful of troops in the assaulting force fell before the scattered hail of arrows, and while Tristan didn’t see any defenders on the wall fall, he was sure that there had to be a few injuries. Now if they stick to the plan, they’ll keep firing and retreating as they bleed the army. Obadai can deal a crushing blow that will probably destroy a good portion of the city…but lighting the whole place on fire will make the fort unassailable for a decent length of time.

    He turned his attention away from the walls and snuck into the supply camp. Judging from the number of carts, crates, barrels, and other goods, this was the bulk of the army’s resources. They got all of this here without being noticed? The heck were Prince Merrill’s scouts doing? He can’t have just had the one group of scouts who picked up me and Obadai.

    Tristan found his answer soon enough as he saw a few carts with cages on the back, and he assumed they were captured forces of the Flors faction given their deplorable condition. Emaciated and wasting away inside the confines of their mobile prison. He made for those carts immediately.

    Getting alongside one, he leaned in towards the bars and whispered very quietly. “I’m a friend, you cannot see me, but do not speak. Just nod or shake your head.” The blonde-haired man, skin drawn taut, nodded very subtly. “Good. Give me a thumbs up if you are Flors scouts.”

    The man let his arm dangle through the bars of the cage next to Tristan and made a thumbs up. He whispered back, “Water…food…”

    Tristan uncorked one of his clearcool elixirs and slid it into his hand, “Drink quietly.”

    The man tucked his head into his chin and quickly quaffed the elixir, sliding the glass vial back to Tristan. “Thanks,” he barely whispered.

    Tristan moved under the cart as he heard armored steps approaching. From his low-view vantage point, he saw booted greaves and heard a haughty voice. “You lot were going to be bargaining chips…but it looks like Prince Merrill is not here. Despite the reports.”

    Tristan understood immediately, they think that the defenders are a token force, and that Prince Merrill has gone to the front lines – since the city is so sparsely defended.

    He heard the sound of steel being pulled from a sheath, “That means you’re just taking up space.”

    In one swift motion, Tristan reached out, grabbed the person by both of their heels, and yanked them towards him. As they collapsed to the ground, he scrabbled up next to them, drew his knife, and stabbed it down into their neck. Their gurgling was the only sound that greeted him, and he wrenched the blade back and forth to make sure they stayed silent. He could see the slight bit of blood on his palms, and he wiped them lower down on the person’s tabard as to not interrupt his invisibility.

    Grabbing their legs, he dragged them under the cart and heard the jangling of keys. Convenient, he thought as he snatched those, grabbed the sword, and got out from under the cart. “Listen,” he whispered, handing the keys to the blonde man along with the sword. “You free your brethren. Get some gear from the tents and dress up as Founts men. When you see the siege equipment unattended, sabotage it.”

    The man nodded and whispered back, “Understood. Thanks, stranger.”

    Tristan slinked away and scanned the area for other armed personnel. He spotted a few of them, staring over at the walls and talking amongst themselves. In the distance, the army had reached the gates and were making their way in – leaving behind the siege equipment. As expected, he thought. They will leave it behind, then once they realize the fort in the center is occupied, they’ll bring the siegeworks up and into the city. I strike those and disable as many as I can. But first I have to deal with these guards so the prisoners can have free reign of the supplies.

    There were other people going around, sure enough, but they were noncombatants. Tristan was pretty sure that when the supply camp was threatened, they would flee. An idea popped into his head, and he grinned. Spinning his essence crucible, he pushed the powerful energy into his amulet and activated Disguise Form – taking on the guise of the man he had just killed, fully armored up and with his helmet on tight.

    Dropping the invisibility, he walked up and joined the other guards looking at the wall. “Crazy, isn’t it? They just opened up their gates.”

    One of the guards looked at him, “Pfff. The city wants to surrender. Just a few defenders holding out, I’d wager.”

    Tristan nudged that soldier, “Come on. Let’s see to the prisoners.”

    “I thought you took care of them?” The man asked as he turned and a curious tone inflected his voice.

    Tristan chuckled, trying his best to put on an aura of being carefree. “That’s a lot of throats to slit. I don’t want to have all the fun.”

    The other soldier nodded and Tristan led the way towards one of the prison carts that was behind a tent, still occupied, but out of sight from the other guards. Wheeling around, he slashed across the man’s neck, grabbed him by the shoulders, and took him to the ground. Tristan dug the blade into the middle of the windpipe to make sure the job was done, and ripped the dagger side to side.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Dragging the corpse under another cart, he spotted the group of prisoners he had given the means to free themselves fleeing the battlefield – going off into the distance. Well, that’s one plan scrapped, he thought. Silver lining though – I can repeat this ruse. He grabbed the keys, tossed them to the prisoners on the cart, and whispered, “Free yourselves, sabotage the siege equipment.”

    He spun his essence crucible, re-used Disguise Form to take on an appearance of the guard he had just killed, but not covered with slight blood, and went to the far end of the supply camp. He repeated the ruse again; luring a guard back towards the prisoner carts with the promise of slaughter, killing them silently, and hiding the corpse under the cart. He was able to repeat the process several times, slaying five of the guards before he had almost drained his essence. Taking one of his two (greater) essence elixirs, he reverse-spun his crucible to suck in the energy faster as he gulped it down.

    It filled him to the brim, and he was able to keep up his charade and slaughter until all but four guards who were near the center of the campsite were slain. They were drawn by the sounds of combat to watch the walls, and thankfully Tristan had not been discovered – neither were the corpses.

    0 chapter views

    0 Comments

    Note
    0 online