NOVPUB
Chapter 340: 340
The princess frowned upon receiving the report. "Was it intentional? Is someone trying to lure us out?"
Recalling her father’s advice, she replied with the clan’s motto, "Defense is the best offense." With that, she ended the call. She looked back at the Hologram "If someone is waiting beyond the territory then sending message back to the capital won’t work so that means it can only be done when the attack begins"
The scouts looked at each other before heading back. Just after they left, a group of red-cloaked figures appeared ahead, lowering their hoods briefly as they watched the Apelings retreat. Saying nothing, they pulled their hoods back up, disappearing into the shadows.
The priest received this news and sighed. He had thought he might be overestimating the Apelings, but this only confirmed their caution. Though he wanted to call off the mission, he knew this was his only chance. "Stay alert," he called out, informing everyone. "The Apelings know we’re here."
Back within the walls of the Terra clan, the mood had shifted. No longer interested in the competition, the clan had taken action. Non-warriors and children were promptly moved to a shelter built for them.
Meanwhile, the fighters and the princess donned a strange, rune-like armor. As they put it on, root-like tendrils merged with their bodies, making the armor seemingly disappear as their normal clothing reappeared over it.
The streets were empty, and the princess stood tall, leading an army numbering in the thousands. Some fighters lay hidden in the houses, waiting in silence. 𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒑𝒖𝙗.𝒄𝒐𝒎
The princess stood silently, her gaze intense as she assessed the empty streets. She could feel the subtle pulse of life hidden within the walls around her, each Apeling warrior connected through the living armor that bound them to the earth itself. This was their home, and nothing would breach it without a fight. The words of her father echoed in her mind: "The earth remembers who it shelters and who it rejects. Trust in it, as it trusts in you."
Meanwhile the priest was staring at the sand clock in front of him waiting for the sand to empty out which means it will be night time. Right as he was waiting the sun slowly went down.
With haste he immediately ordered the mages to activate the spell, Chant of incantations can be heard echoing from the forest. The princess and her men looked to the sky to wach a red dome that was covering their land.
The red dome even had the light of the moon turn red castling a red light over everyone. The princess stood still, her gaze unwavering as she watched the crimson dome cast a blood-red glow over the village. Even the moon’s light had turned to the priest’s ominous hue. For a moment, she felt the unsettling churn of magic ripple through her blood, but it subsided as quickly as it had come.
"At arms," she commanded, lifting her heavy hammer and resting it on her shoulder with practiced ease. The warriors around her mirrored her readiness, their armor pulsing with the energy of the earth beneath them.
On the other side, the priest led his force of five hundred to the edge of the towering wall. The weight of their mission settled heavily upon them. Breaking through the Terra clan’s mystical barrier would be no easy task, but they had come prepared.
A few men stepped aside as the mages emerged, dragging a captive toward the wall. The man struggled, his eyes wild with fear, but his mouth was stuffed, leaving him only able to issue muffled pleas. They pushed him to his knees before the priest, who drew a dagger with a chilling calm.
"You are performing a great service to our lord with your sacrifice," he murmured as he sliced the man’s throat, steadying him as his blood splattered against the wall. The mages chanted, and the blood began to sizzle and hiss against the protective barrier. It wasn’t meant to break the shield entirely, only to create a breach wide enough for an entry point.
Across the wall, the princess and her forces watched as the wall began to melt, and the opening widened. She wasted no time. "Attack!"
The Terra clan warriors surged forward, but before they could close in, small black balls were thrown through the breach, releasing a thick gas that quickly spread, fogging up the area. The princess raised a hand, signaling her men. "Hold your positions! Stand in pairs, back-to-back. The gas is not poisonous."
Taking advantage of the confusion, the priest’s forces poured through the narrow breach, spreading out to cover the town’s streets. His strategy was clear; he knew that in such close quarters, Terra’s forces would dominate. By spreading his forces, he kept them from being an easy target.
As the smoke began to clear, the princess saw the red-robed figures scattered throughout the village. The priest, at the forefront, began to release a red mist that enveloped his men, and she watched in horror as their eyes turned bloodshot and feral, their faces twisting with a savage intensity.
The priest locked eyes with the princess from across the street, his gaze full of cold arrogance. "Where is the gift the God of Nature left for his son?" he demanded.
The princess’s eyes flashed with fury, echoed by her warriors. "Such arrogance," she muttered, gripping her hammer tighter.
In response, the earth beneath her feet seemed to pulse with life, resonating with her anger. The armor on her warriors began to glow faintly as the roots and tendrils embedded within them pulsed, enhancing their strength.
Without waiting for another demand, she raised her hammer high, and the ground rumbled as her forces surged forward. "For the Terra clan!"
The Priest watched as the princess charged into battle, her aura blazing. Without hesitation, he bellowed, "Attack!" His voice boomed over the field, igniting the bloodlust in his eager soldiers. Like a violent wave, the army surged forward, crashing toward the Terra clan with wild abandon.
While the army advanced, the Priest fell back with his mages, one leaning close to whisper hurried words. As the spell settled over him, his eyes flared a deep, ominous red, casting his vision far beyond the immediate carnage. He peered through the storm of chaos, and there—on the far side of the Terra clan’s forces—he glimpsed a faint golden shimmer, the elusive glow of divinity.
A dark grin curved on his lips as he drew his hood up, shrouding his face. In the next breath, he and his mages vanished, their energy signatures fading into nothing. He spared no thought for the army he’d sent to the slaughter; their lives were merely coins he’d spent for a greater reward.
From the moment he’d agreed to this, he understood that death awaited them all. But if they could buy him the time he needed, if they could hold off the apelings long enough, then perhaps he’d finally seize the power he craved.
The air grew thick with tension as both forces locked eyes across the narrow street. For a heartbeat, there was only silence, and then the princess brought her hammer down with a deafening roar. The ground cracked, sending tremors through the village, and with a unified cry, the Terra clan warriors surged forward.
The priest’s soldiers met them with equal fervor, their bodies transforming under the red mist of the priest’s spell. Muscles swelled, and their eyes gleamed with a wild, primal hunger as they charged into the fray. They moved faster, with reckless strength fueled by their faith in Björn, reveling in the chaos. But the Terra clan warriors were relentless.
The first clash of weapons was brutal. A Terra warrior swung his jagged stone axe into the chest of a red-cloaked zealot, shattering bone and ripping flesh as blood sprayed across the ground. But the zealot, even with his dying breath, grabbed the warrior’s arm and bit down savagely, his teeth gnashing against the armor. It took a brutal stomp to the zealot’s skull to end him, and the Terra warrior moved forward without a pause.
A red-robed soldier slammed into another Apeling with a ferocity that belied his size, clawing at the warrior’s face and tearing away strips of flesh. But the Apeling’s armor reacted, roots springing forth and stabbing through the zealot’s wrists, pinning him in place as the Apeling brought a stone gauntlet down on his head. The zealot’s skull cracked with a sickening crunch, his body twitching as the roots writhed, draining the last of his life.
Nearby, the princess fought her way through the mob with lethal precision, her hammer smashing bone and rending flesh in her wake. She swung it low, shattering the legs of one zealot, then lifted it high to crush another who lunged at her. The zealots, undeterred, threw themselves at her, hands clawing for any piece of flesh they could grasp. But her armor pulsed, roots bursting forth to impale the attackers, wrapping around their throats and twisting with bone-snapping force.
