Rise of the Horde
Chapter 407: Chapter 407

The night sky, a canvas of twinkling stars, offered little comfort to the weary soldiers. The chill of the desert night crept into their bones, a stark contrast to the scorching days they had endured.

Sentries kept a vigilant watch, their eyes scanning the distant horizon for any sign of the approaching enemy. The knowledge of the powerful weapon that was soon to arrive kept their spirits from faltering further, but the wait was agonizing. Rakabis, despite his confident words, felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders.

He knew that the fate of the kingdom rested on the successful deployment of this weapon. His mind raced with strategies and potential pitfalls, playing out various scenarios in his head. The addition of the mages, as mentioned in the king's letter, was a welcome boost, but it also introduced an element of uncertainty.

He hoped their power would be enough to turn the tide against the formidable orcish horde. As the night wore on, a sense of anticipation hung heavy in the air. The soldiers, though exhausted, found it difficult to rest. Their conversations were laced with speculation about the weapon and the impending battle.

Some spoke of the stories they had heard, passed down from generation to generation, about the legendary power of the weapon, that once destroyed a huge group of bandits with a single flash of light. Others whispered prayers, seeking solace and strength from the gods above.

The night passed silently with warriors from both camps having their rest. The warriors who operates under the cover of the night from both sides were unable to infiltrate each other's camp and had to retire for the day.

The long awaited weapons on the camp of the Ereians finally arrived after midnight. Its arrival was noted by the Verakhs who were lurking in the shadows but they weren't able to identify what it was due to the protection detail of the caravan.

As the sun rose, a tense calm settled over the desert. The soldiers of the Ereians, though still a bit fatigued, stood tall, their eyes fixed on the mysterious caravan that had arrived under the cover of darkness. The long-awaited weapon, shrouded in secrecy, was now among them, and a palpable sense of relief washed over the soldiers.

However, the weight of uncertainty remained, as the success of their mission hinged on this untested power. The Verakhs reported the arrival of the unknown cargo with growing concern.

The tension escalated as the sun climbed higher, and the desert sands seemed to shimmer with anticipation. Within the Ereian camp, Rakabis gathered his officers, their faces etched with determination. He unveiled the king's plan, revealing the true nature of the weapon they had awaited. It was not a conventional instrument of war, but a magical weapon, a creation of great minds.

The mages, their eyes alight with a mixture of awe and trepidation, understood the gravity of their task. They were to harness and direct this power, a force that could erase beings out of existence. Only four among the mages present had experience in using the said weapon. The other remaining eight mages were relatively young, their abilities hovering around the 2nd and 3rd Circle of Magic.

The strongest among the mages who were task to supervise the use of the weapon was at the 5th Circle while the remaining three were all at the 4th Circle.

"How many magic crystals do you have with you?" Rakabis needed to know. The magical weapon although powerful, guzzles up so much wealth, the equivalent of a town's expenditure for a quarter of the year in each shot.

The leader of the mages headed to one of the wagons to check, even he, didn't know how many did their king provided them with for this battle. Below the deadly tube was a simple looking chest, the mage opened and counted its content. "We have three here," he responded, his voice contained a tone of disappointment.

"Another three here," one of the young mages echoed out after opening the other chest. The bluish colored crystals with no defined shape, the size of a man's fist were the ammunition used to fire the magical weapon. In the absence of mages to provide mana for the weapons, magic crystals could be used to operate them.

It was much faster to feed the weapons with pure mana from the magic crystals than have a team of mages channel their mana onto it. The varying qualities of mana channelled onto it by mages would affect its firepower greatly. There was also the risk of mana bite from the weapon once the provided magic was insufficient which would incapacitate the mages.

"Let's hope that it is enough," Rakabis sighed after learning that they only have six magic crystals at their disposal. The six magic crystals would mean that each weapon would only be able to fire three powerful shots without fail.

The team of mages would be lucky, if they could fire the weapon an additional two shots each, while channelling their mana onto it. He was even doubtful if the young mages' mana would even be enough, to get the weapon charged up to be fired. The four experienced mages would certainly be able to at least fire off two shots.

The sun's rays bathed the desert in a golden light, revealing the vast expanse of sand, now a stage for the impending clash. Rakabis, his voice steady, briefed the soldiers on their roles, their eyes fixed on him with unwavering attention.

The knowledge of the magical weapon in their midst instilled a sense of empowerment, but it was tempered by the unknown. The mages, an eclectic group of varying experience, were the key to their success.

The young mages, their eyes wide with a mixture of excitement and fear, listened intently to the instructions of their more seasoned counterparts.

The Ereian soldiers stood at the ready, their eyes darting between the distant horizon and the group that had brought the magical weapon to their camp. Rakabis, their leader, exuded an air of confidence, but his heart weighed heavy with the knowledge of the immense responsibility he carried.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, and the desert heat intensified. Rakabis, aware of the importance of their mission, briefed the soldiers on their strategy. "We will use the cover of the dunes to position ourselves within range of the enemy," he explained, his voice carrying a sense of command. "Our goal is to strike swiftly and decisively, utilizing the power of our new weapon.

Mages, you are to work in pairs, harnessing your magic to ensure we have the necessary firepower." The soldiers nodded, their faces set with determination, as Rakabis continued, outlining their positions and the signals that would initiate the attack.

As the final preparations were made, the soldiers checked their gear, their movements efficient and practiced. The mages, an unusual addition to the army, prepared their spells, their eyes flicking between the weapon and the distant horizon.

The young mages, despite their nerves, were eager to prove their worth, while the more experienced casters guided them, ensuring their mana was channelled effectively. The tension continued to mount as the soldiers awaited the signal to advance. The knowledge that they were about to unleash a mysterious and powerful weapon upon their foes both excited and unnerved them.

Rakabis, sensing their apprehension, issued a final rallying cry, his voice carrying across the desert plain. "Remember, we fight for the kingdom! Our strength lies in our unity and our new weapon! Forward, to victory!"

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the desert sands shimmered in the heat, a stark contrast to the chill of the previous night. Rakabis gave the signal, and the mages sprang into action.

The four experienced mages took up positions around the weapon, their eyes closed in concentration as they began to channel their magic. The young mages, though less seasoned, followed their lead, their faces intense with focus. The air crackled with energy as the magical weapon came to life. A hum filled the air, and a faint glow could be seen emanating from the device.

Instead of a pitch battle, Rakabis opted now to siege the town up ahead. His confidence in launching a siege battle stemmed from the magical weapons. Though they could only be fired a limited time but the amount of times it could be fired was enough for him.

The sentries on the walls of the town quickly sounded the alarm. They remained vigilant but they were not Trot'thar. The enemy army managed to creep closer than before with the absence of Trot'thar on the walls.

The Ereian army stood a good distance away from the walls but that was close enough for them. Two flashes of light flew from the rear of the Ereian army and headed straight for the walls. The attack was silent, swift and powerful.

Before the sentries on the walls of the town could even make heads or tails of the incoming light, a section of the walls crumbled down.