The Mythical Hero's Otherworld Chronicles: Volume 4 [Parts 1 to 6] by Tatematsuri

Author:Tatematsuri
Language: eng
Format: epub

A gentle blue sky stretched from horizon to horizon, inviting one to topple into it if they would only reach out their hands. The air was so peaceful and clear, it was hard to believe that humans could be vying for supremacy on the ground below. Hiro took no comfort in the sight, however. He gazed upward, frowning.

“Something up there caught your ire?” Garda remarked.

Hiro lowered his black eyes to face his lieutenant. “Not exactly. I felt something. Something strong.”

Moments earlier, a familiar presence had abruptly flared to the northwest. He cast one last glance after it and narrowed his eyes, but the chill he had felt up his spine did not return.

“I won’t fault you for worrying,” Garda grunted. “But for all our sakes, you’d do better to focus on the enemy before us.”

Hiro cracked a self-effacing grin. “You’re right. We have a battle to win.”

A host of soldiers in intimidating armor stretched out in front of him, trampling the peaceful atmosphere beneath thousands of armored boots. These were Hiro’s own forces. In the distance, far beyond their orderly ranks, a black shadow writhed.

The Draali nobles had gathered every man they could from the surrounding settlements in a bid to slow the Crow Legion’s advance. Imperial spies put their number at seven thousand, slightly above Huginn’s estimate. They had the conscripts at the center, shielded by a vanguard of career soldiers who would lead the charge. Cavalry units waited on both flanks. The layout, called the dragon-scale formation, excelled at punching through the enemy’s center.

“Not the most surprising choice,” Hiro observed. “Probably the only one they could have picked.”

“Teaching complex tactics to green conscripts in a matter of days would be a madman’s task,” Garda agreed. “But the dragon-scale is easily understood.”

The Crow Legion had taken a slightly different tack. Its light infantry had dismounted and taken up a somewhat recessed position in the center. To the flanks waited two wings of cavalry, the core of the army’s strength, looming over the enemy like a pair of unfurling wings. This was the dragon-wing formation, designed to anticipate an enemy charge. The above collectively made up the first cohort. The second cohort, a long column of cavalry, lay concealed behind them. The two together formed what was known as the iron lure formation.

“Time to show off the fruits of your training,” Hiro said.

Garda snorted. “I’ve learned well your penchant for madcap schemes. I made certain they could perform the iron lure if you called for it, or any number of other maneuvers besides.”

“I look forward to the results.” Hiro took a deep breath and thrust his right arm out to the side, signaling the riders. “Well, then. Showtime.”

The livery of the black dragon fluttered on the wind. A horn blasted, and the soldiers began to beat their spears against their shields. The cacophonous symphony shook the air and heated the blood. The troops’ battle cries resounded through the body to invigorating effect.

“Morale seems good. I suppose I’ll go and give our enemies something to think about.

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