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"Tell me what you just said... Tell me... One. More. Time."

Prince Barbro spoke very slowly and glowered down at the young, trembling scout.

It was supposed to be a good day. An easy day for war, given his opponents were mere peasants traitors waiting for him to cull them and gain achievements.

He sat atop his powerful war horse, his favorite place to be as it let him tower over everyone.

His back was straight, and his broad shoulders even broader thanks to the regalia of orichalcum and mithril plated armor. His enchanted broad sword swayed at his side, a symbol of his power and station that would let everyone knew to never be on his bad side.

He sat proudly, being looked up to and admired for the powerful man he knew himself to be.

But now, his mood was ruined by what the scout below him reported.

"T-They have a wall, sire... A very impressive wall. And people on top of it say they're not opening the gate. T-They said..."

The scout cleared his throat and lowered his eyes to the ground, sweat drenching everything under his armor in fear for his life.

"They said 'He can sit his purple ass on his purple throne back home, but he'll never set foot in here'... Majesty..."

Even without having to raise his head to see the prince, the scout could easily imagine how red the Prince's face had turned from the obvious anger in his voice.

"What about the spies? Did they fine anyone matching the description of the ones we're looking for?"

In truth, at this point, Barbro could care less if the ones they're seeking is there or not. He would destroy them regardless. But he asked regardless.

"T-They dropped this..."

The scout reached to his side, where a bag hung, and removed from it a head. The head of their spy.

"They... S-Sire, they did say the guilty are within their walls. The spy... was unnecessary."

The crown prince bellowed out his rage filled order.

"GO! MAKE LADDERS! By the Gods, we're never letting them get away with such heinous acts!!!"

The scout immediately scrambled away from where he knelt and rushed to pass the orders along to the other soldiers.

'Walls or not... They're only peasants with hoes and sticks, maybe a few metal and bows. This won't take long... No, maybe I'll make their suffering longer. Yes... They'll become an example. An example to never cross the future king of Re-Estize.'

Nightfall.

The sound of hammers and ropes and the shouting of low ranking soldiers busy about their tasks weren't Barbro's favorite sounds.

But, he had his ways to drown out the voices; with the help of the whore he had in his tent.

'Lakyus... as soon as I'm King, I'll make life miserable for you that you'd beg to suck my dick just like this one...'

He looked down at the trembling, curled up whore in the corner. His yellowish white liquid flowing down her thighs and lips over the dried up stains of his previous load.

Although not the real thing, it's a passable substitute, at the very least.

'Eight Fingers really knows how to break them. I might have to push down a few nobles and raise a few from that organization up. I can use sensible people like them.'

Plans for the future when the throne he could practically feel under his ass already were running through his mind.

That was when a young lord serving as an officer approached on horseback, saluted his prince, and slammed a mailed fist over the heart.

"Sire, we have ladders at the ready, and one of the bigger trees has been cut and made into a ram. Should we wait until morning or..."

The officer looked towards the sun. It has alreadly descended past the horizon, but the remaining light was still illuminating the skyes with an orange red hue that began to shift to purplish twilight.

"Absolutely not. This should finish what we set out to do. There is no reason to delay."

The prince barked, and shouted his order.

"Call to arms! Make ready!"

Like swarming ants, the soldiers of Re-Estize Kingdom assembled into lines

Not many ladders were ready. But, id wouldn't take a lot either, not by Barbro's estimation. The ladders were crude things that no carpenter would take pride in. Not even in their lowest standards. It was simply made with simple ropes bound in cross patterns along uneven branchest hastily stripped.

Even he, himself, wondered if they would even hold up when climbed. Some he knew, definitely wouldn't. But...

'The ram will be good enough. Once they're in, it's over.'

He looked towards the peasant village in the distance.

As the scout said, they were impressive walls. Enough so that he wouldn't have guessed it was a village if he hadn't known.

Still, it was a village. With hoe-wielding peasants as their army. While before him was a true army of Re-Estize.

This would be a trample if he decided to go all out.

In that moment, after venting his anger and frustration to his pet whore's holes, he began to think twice.

These are peasants. Fools who lived at the same level with livestocks.

They killed a noble out of their savagery and foolishness, just like how a dog would sometimes bite a human.

Shouldn't he, as the future king, display his magnamity, and simply punish the true perpetrators by torture as an example, and confiscate most of their belongings to make sure they wouldn't try such things again?

Perhaps, he could even have the prettiest one there to be his cock sleeve for a bit before giving her to his soldiers as a reward.

That way, he wouldn't have to shed too much blood, and he'll have a living example of what his opposers would end up like.

But just then... He saw something he could not believe...

'Is that...'

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Lukrut nocked an arrow and drew it back.

In his hand was a bow Ninya had chosen for him to use. According to her, it was the best one in the lot. It was enchanted for range and power, but he relied on himself for accuracy.

His breathing was slow. His martial arts were ready. And his eyes, narrow and clear. Peter's orders were clear in his mind. He'd do as he always did for the first shot of the engagement.

Pull the turtle out of its shell.

His fingers opened, releasing a regular arrow that flew from the string, piercing the air. And his lips curled into a grin.

"Oh, I can't wait to see how pissed they got."

The other archers waiting for the signal for them to rise.

"I hit it."

"...How do you know? It hasn't reached him... yet...

Enri frowned, and narrowed her eyes. Focusing her gaze to the far distance as the circlet around her head magically enhanced her vision. And she saw it.

The arrow landed just before the large, broad-shouldered man in visibly better adorned regalia armor. And they soon heard shouts of shock and dismay.

"Becuase I'm Lukrut."

"...Yeah, and you're the best at pissing people off."

Enri said with a dry, clinical voice.

Barbro felt the horse wobble for a moment before he fell and landed face first into churned up mud.

He planted his hands on the soft ground and began to rise. The acrid taste of somebody, many people's piss, lingering on his tongue. He spat the filth from his tongue and went to wipe his mouth, only to find his arms and hands were no better than his face.

He whirled to face the walls, the archer responsible was waving his arm as if saying hello to an old friend after playing a prank on him.

"Peasant! Insolent scum! How dare you!"

Barbro roared like an outraged madman and drew his sword with a bellow that came from his enraged soul.

"ATTAAAAACKKK!!!!"

His soldiers hesitated for a brief second, before letting loose a battle cry of their own. Their previous "victories" over the other peasants had given them some confidence, and they charged, ready for another easy win. Walls or no walls.

Seeing the army charge forward, Peter put his hand on Enri's shoulder.

"Now, my queen. It is time."

She nodded and climbed atop the small platform where the banner of Re-Estize flew, and tore it down, tossing it down to the muck in front of the gate.

Then, in its place, she raised another pole with a new banner.

A vibrant leaf green, except for the center, where a sheaf of golden wheat stood up.

The banner caught wind when Enri unfurled it, a further defiance that would earn her torturous death if she failed. But she did not falter.

Archer rose to their feet, drew, and loosed. The first volley was going to be the least accurate, so the first arrows hadn't used iron heads, but little hollow wooden cones with slits cut throughout for the air to pass through.

The whistling noise, in such numbers, sounded like screaming demons, unholy wailing that was enough to slow the courage of the army trotting towards the wall.

And did not let go of this moment of hesitation.

"Draw! Loose!"

Lukrut bellowed and began firing arrows of his own.

The village was outnumbered, even with the refugees and with their numbers increased. Even with the gifts of their benefactor, the real possibility of death was still ever present.

The archers continued to draw and loose their arrows, again and again.

Some arrows came to rest in the arms or legs of some soldiers. Some landed on the face or neck of the more unlucky ones. Many fell, clutching their wounds as bright blood spurt out of their wounds, thrashing before going limp to be trod over by their living comrades.

Most of the peasants on the ground below couldn't see what they were doing. But they could hear the sounds of battle raging.

Peter and Brita were waiting near the ladders and crude steps, ready at the front position to charge the length of the wall when the archers drew back.

"Fireball!"

Then, a bellowing cry of a young woman near the center position resounded. Her voice, drowned out by most, but two massive spheres of fire stood out like a sore thumb, before rocketing through the air and slammed into a group of ladder bearing soldiers.

The staff she had received granted her to twin cast a spell once a day.

When the army reaches the walls, she wouldn't be able to cause such destruction without risking endangering her allies as well. Thus, she used it now to inflict the most damage on the enemy without risk hitting her own.

Five men were incinerated along with the ladders they brought. While another group of six were blasted by the impact and were engulfed in flames.

Another volley of arrows claimed more lives.

Then, another ball of flames burst forth, this time targeting the ram bearers. The fire struck, engulfing the two men in front in flames, burning the thick piece of log, and blasting the two at the back down to the ground.

But, with the strength of numbers to support the courage that not one in ten had on their own, they soon reached the wall.

Enri clenched her hands as she watched another group of ram bearers came up and ladders began to rise.

"This will only work once."

She took a deep breath, focusing on her convictions to shunt out the fear of death, and took the pole by her side.

"Now!"

She shouted, and raised the golden stalk that was her banner. The woman, who would be Queen, waved her banner wildly left and right.

The trolls waiting behind the gate raised the wooden barrier holding the gate shut, and dropped it at their feed.

The gates flung wide open, and just as they had practiced, they charged out the door, swinging their tree branch clubs into the face of the ram bearers.

The sickening crunch of skulls and bones broken, the rendering of flesh, and splashing of blood were only drowned down by the screams of men suffering from it, sending chills of horror throughout the ranks of men.

Facing monsters... This was never a part of the plan.

The trolls began to trot towards the ladders as fast as their lumbering legs would allow them, and the men began jumping away from their ladders and scream as they run in horror.

Not a single one made it to the top of the wall.

And with no one left right before their gates, the trolls rushed back to the gate, which closed behind them once more.

"Loose!"

Another volley of arrows fell into the retreating backs of the Kingdom's soldiers, pinning men to the blood stained earth to spasm and die.

"My prince..."

A young nobleman, an officer, asked in a hushed whisper that still seemed to loud in the midst of the grave silence around them.

"What do we do now...?"

The prince's mind raced, but found no answer, and thus, said nothing at all. His silence reflected the dead that lay strewn on the field before him.

The light of the sun now fully gone from the sky, and the cloak of night dominated the world, ending the day.

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