Chapter 32 Part 1 of 3 (Patreon)

The wind cut across the northern mountains that Vuzgal was nestled in.

Corporal Nicholas Landrith stifled a yawn as he scanned the sect fighters, packed into the dry river bed that snaked between mountains into Vuzgal Valley.

Morning had arrived, reflecting off of the picturesque mountains that remained covered in snow through the late spring.

He lowered the formation binoculars, letting them hang from the strap around his neck; as he pulled out the folded map from his storage ring. It tried to flap against the piece of wood he’d attached it to. checked his markings. He pulled out his compass; setting it, and then placing it on his map, making sure it matched up.

He went through the scribbled numbers on the map’s corner.

“How are we looking?” Sergeant Cao.

“Coordinates look good.” Landrith said, as he pulled his jacket tighter to his body to block the wind, holding out the checked numbers to Sergeant Cao.

“Alright, punch them up Earthy!”

“You just don’t want to freeze your fingers off holding this damn board,” Landrith muttered. The ‘Earther’ jokes didn’t phase him anymore.

“I’m living it up with my rank privileges,” Cao grinned under his cold weather hood.

“On this fine wind swept, cold ass, back crack of the world mountain.”

Landrith couldn’t help but chuckle as the other members of the sharpshooter team grinned into their scarves.

Landrith keyed his sound transmission device.

“Firebases Group Three, this is Spotting Squad Four-one, targets at coordinate Uniform Whiskey Three Four Seven Nine byEight One Five Zero. Requesting shot over.”

“Understood, shot.”

Landrith raised his binoculars, as did the rest of the sharpshooter team, watching that dark river of people that had come to kill them and take their city. A flash hit to the west and north of the winding stream of fighters.

“Correction, Twelve hundred mils, add three hundred, over.” Landrith didn’t lower his binoculars.

“Correction, twelve hundred mils, add three hundred, out.” A few seconds rolled past as Landrith watched on.

“Shot out!”

Landrith watched with his heart in his teeth.

He saw the flash on the east side, bracketing the riverbed.

“Drop one hundred, fire for effect, over.”

“Drop one hundred, fire for effect!”

It wasn’t a perfect call for fire but as long as it worked, it worked.

Landrith watched the route filled with members of different sects that had come to attack Vuzgal.

The winding path through the mountains was wide enough to let three men abreast push forward. The mountains and stone stopped gave them nowhere to go as they wove through a later summer dry streambed.

The walls and terrain made it hard to nearly impossible to use mana barriers. The sects didn’t have theirs active thinking themselves safe and secure.

The first shells had been unenhanced marker shells. The ones that followed had been enhanced by formations and the artillery company’s mages. Instead of just one gun, there were two artillery companies part of Firebase Group Three firing.

Destruction flashed upon the riverbed as tens of mortars landed. It took several seconds for the rumbling noise to reach the sharpshooters.

Stone that had lasted untold years was turned into flying shrapnel and craters, cutting through the unprotected fighters stuck in the riverbed that had cut its path through the mountains since ice had melted in these mountains.

“Shift fire, six zero zero zero mils, add two hundred, repeat!”

The wave of fire changed following the river’s route. The rumblings rolled back at them as they forever altered the landscape ahead of them.

Landrith called in correction after correction until he had nothing else.

He turned to Sergeant Cao.

“You see anything?”

“Nope, I don’t see shit down there man. You got ‘em.” Sergeant Cao patted him on the back.

“Firebases, this is Spotting Squad Four One, fire mission complete, over.”

“Understood, coordinates for trap placement. Firebase Group Three, out.”

Landrith called in corrections off of the last rain of mortars. New mortars exploded above the ground, they tossed out trap formation plates, sowing them down the river on the dead fighters.

“Anyone tries to come through there and they’re going to have a shitty day.” Sergeant Cao said as the wind rushed over them dusting their white and grey coverings that blended into the mountain perfectly.

Landrith let out a breath. The hit of adrenaline falling, as he heard thunder rumbling in the distance.

“Looks like that rain is coming in,” Landrith looked to the dark ominous clouds to the west.

“That’s not thunder, the flashes are happening on the ground, not in the sky.” Cao said. “Those are the other mortar positions. Get some food in you. I’ve got first watch. Make sure that anyone coming through our sector gets a welcome surprise.”

“Okay,” Landrith pulled out snacks, numbly putting them into his mouth. How many did I just kill with those mortars? How many more will die from the traps?

He rubbed his face, covering his eyes as he took a breath in and out.

“Looks like we have new customers,” Cao said.

“Firebases Group Three this is Spotting Squad Four-one, targets at preset position Charlie moving to position Delta, fire for effect.”

***

Marco frowned at the noises to the south, shifting in his saddle.

“We made good time over the last day. Tomorrow afternoon we will reach Vuzgal,” said Leonia, one of the Tolentino’s younger generation that waited on his every need, acting as his second, learning from and supporting him.

Marco responded with the same indifference he had always treated these hanger’s on. Leonia was of the rare breed that didn’t care if she was ignored.

“I don’t get why we had to use the smaller tents. The greeting hall is only big enough to fit ten or so people,” she sighed.

And your bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, dining room and reading room. Marco added, stretching. All night I felt like someone was watching me. This must just be excitement for the upcoming battle.

He settled down, just part of another long line of soldiers and supplies.

The force was broken down into dozens of smaller groups; following their guides, moving through the northern and southern mountain ranges, before taking the small paths that were a person wide to two carts wide in places.

What are those sects doing?

As he’d expected, once the Willful Institute prepared to charge ahead, the other sects rushed out. His commanders had played their part well in slowing them down.

The other sects were well in the lead, some were about to enter the Vuzgal valley already. Now Tolentino was passing sects that had rested well through the night and were waking up slowly; rekindling their fires from the night before, servants brewing tea and starting to work on the morning’s meals.

Another noise rose from the south again.