Chapter Ninety-Six: The Duel of Sword Sages

Kevin knew that if he raised a loud alarm now, he too would hardly escape death. Yet, to pretend not to see it would be equally unjustifiable. Perhaps their army was prepared, perhaps not—but regardless, any warning was bound to help, even if only slightly. After all, this was merely a military exercise; personal survival was not worth overthinking.

In a flash, Kevin sighed and came to the edge of the mountain, drawing a deep breath before shouting, “Enemy attack!!!”

His voice cut clearly through the darkness, echoing down from the mountain. Even if their own troops did not hear it, the nearby patrolling parrots surely would, and the enemy forces recently teleported below would no doubt be alerted as well.

No sooner had Kevin shouted than commotion erupted below. First, the twang of bowstrings sounded, followed by shouts and cries of battle. The mountain rose some four or five hundred meters above, allowing faint sounds to carry—signaling that arrows were already raining down. The battle had begun, yet neither side lit fires or torches. In the pitch black, they fought a shadowy volley, each trying to avoid becoming a target.

In night combat, the use of light was taboo: whoever lit a torch became the focus of all attacks. Remaining hidden in darkness was the safest choice. Even the use of magic fueled by fighting spirit was minimized, as such spells often emitted brilliant light that could give away one’s position. Life hung in the balance; no one dared be careless. Yet amidst the darkness, cries of battle had to ring out loudly, to bolster morale. In such a night fight, not only was it hard for enemies to spot one another, but even comrades could not see each other. Without vocal contact, soldiers would feel isolated, as if the entire battlefield were theirs alone.

Unaware of the fate of their comrades or the state of their army, only a few soldiers with iron wills could remain unaffected. One could not expect every soldier to have such resolve. The voices of others provided reassurance, calming the entire force. Moreover, the skill to locate the source of incoming arrows by sound was rare; and when the entire battlefield erupted in shouts, such pinpointing was impossible.

The Louboler Kingdom’s army was well versed in night warfare. Since its founding, it had been renowned for various formations, surprise attacks, and night raids. Though times had changed, many foundational principles endured. Yet now, both armies belonged to Louboler and knew each other intimately, making victory through tactics alone exceedingly difficult.

Clearly, the Red Army was prepared. Knowing that the enemy would not let them rest easily during the thunderstorm, reconnaissance units had alerted even Kevin the day before; Red Army headquarters was well informed. A night assault was expected. General Oden had ordered all logistics troops to don armor and patrol nearby, while commanding his own unit—the Second Battalion of the Thunder Knights—to return swiftly through tunnels under cover of darkness. He himself had taken up arms to join the fight.

Both sides were familiar with each other’s tactics and could anticipate their opponent’s moves. Thus, all schemes became open strategies. Kevin’s shout from the mountain simply marked the official start of the battle; no one paid him much mind.

Immediately descending the mountain, Kevin knew he had to contribute his meager strength. But going down was far harder than climbing, especially in total darkness. He felt his way over stones, tree trunks, and roots, inching downward. The light rain made the stones slippery. Any ordinary villager, accustomed to cutting wood or hunting on the mountain, would have preferred to stay put in such weather.

Sweating heavily, Kevin was grateful for his training. Only when his feet touched solid ground did he exhale in relief. Hurrying toward where he had hidden his catapult, he knew he could not fight effectively without it.

By the time Kevin dragged out his war machine and headed to the front lines, dawn was faintly breaking. The sky was overcast, and no sunrise would be seen today.

Sounds of battle still raged in the distance—victory and casualty counts unknown. But after the night’s fight, the noise had not diminished much. Clearly, many had taken advantage of the darkness and chaos; some wounded or struck by dozens of arrows still fought on. Despite supervision from the directing division, they were overwhelmed.

As day broke, a commanding voice boomed from above: “Cease fire on both sides! All deceased soldiers, please withdraw from the battlefield immediately! Otherwise, military penalties will be enforced!”

The voice drowned out all cries, sweeping over the field like a gust of wind, rustling the leaves. Everyone looked up to see a white-bearded old mage floating in midair, staff in hand, shouting orders.

It was Anthony, headmaster of the Royal Academy, Archmage, famed as the Father of Teleportation, and one of the third-party directors of this military exercise. Clearly, the chaos below had prompted him to teleport in for on-site arbitration.

Instantly, the battlefield fell silent. After a moment, some stirred uneasily. A few soldiers bearing red blotches on their bodies stepped forward. Eyeing each other, all understood the unspoken agreement. No one lingered pretending to live; within a drill, “death” was a kind of release. Even the living cast envious looks toward the fallen.

“I warn both sides,” Anthony spoke again, “strictly adhere to the exercise rules. This is a military drill, not a game! Any recurrence will be met with severe punishment!”

“Yes, sir!” came the automatic reply.

“Then continue!” With a flash of white light, Anthony vanished.

After a brief calm, the fighting resumed. By now, it was daylight. Over a hundred yellow-ribboned parrots circled overhead, monitoring the entire scene. Kevin halted at a distance with his catapult to observe. The two armies no longer skulked in hiding shooting arrows; they charged directly at each other, seeking enemy leaders—but such targets were elusive amid the chaos.

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