151 082. Aslan's Saviour -3 Part One
**
“It’s been a while since I’ve entered a warzone.”
An old man kitted out in brilliant golden armour grinned deeply.
He turned his head to the side and asked the head of the Order of the White Cross, Charlotte Heraiz, “How did you find the war so far, Charlotte?”
“It was horrible, my lord.”
“And that’s why I keep saying you’re still insufficient. You see, this thing called the battlefield is…” Oscal Baldur unsheathed his sword, and while smirking away, finished the rest of his sentence. “…Something to be enjoyed.”
“…”
“You will feel yourself growing stronger as you break through one battlefield after another. You will never forget the ecstasy of those moments. And most importantly of all, only when you are carrying out the order of the Imperial Family do you truly sense the purpose of your life.” Oscal quietly closed his eyes. “When you act according to his majesty’s noble commands, the sense of rapture will wash over you.”
“There cannot be another mistake. I shall faithfully carry out the commands issued by his majesty the Holy Emperor. If the enemy surrenders, then I shall accept it, but if they don’t… Only death awaits for them.”
Oscal Baldur glared at the distant Aslan army. He clenched his teeth so hard that blood leaked out from the gums.
He then raised his left hand, and at the same time, blares of the warhorns resounded out. The war drums’ beats steadily matched the rhythm.
Boom, boooom, boooom!
That was the signal to urge the other side to surrender.
However, the Aslan army didn’t display any response whatsoever. That was their own way of declaring their intention to not surrender.
The Holy Emperor did say this – that all those who refused to surrender should receive the gift of death.
“Oh, the god of war Heim.”
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Divinity began rapidly gathering on Oscal’s blade.
Oscal held the reins in one hand, and swung the sword in the other.
He and his ride broke into a sprint.
Once their lead began sprinting forward, the cavalry also started dashing forward and grouped up around him.
The ground beneath rumbled as the riders got into a wedge formation. As brilliant rays of light reflected off their gleaming armours, the Paladins and Priests all roared out in unison.
“It’s the sword king! Oscal Baldur!”
“Bloody hell! All of you, follow me!”
By then, the feudal lords had also finished preparing for the battle. Aslan’s own mounted troops gathered around the lords to move out.
“For the glory of Aslan!”
“It’s been a while since I’ve entered a warzone.”
An old man kitted out in brilliant golden armour grinned deeply.
He turned his head to the side and asked the head of the Order of the White Cross, Charlotte Heraiz, “How did you find the war so far, Charlotte?”
“It was horrible, my lord.”
“And that’s why I keep saying you’re still insufficient. You see, this thing called the battlefield is…” Oscal Baldur unsheathed his sword, and while smirking away, finished the rest of his sentence. “…Something to be enjoyed.”
“…”
“You will feel yourself growing stronger as you break through one battlefield after another. You will never forget the ecstasy of those moments. And most importantly of all, only when you are carrying out the order of the Imperial Family do you truly sense the purpose of your life.” Oscal quietly closed his eyes. “When you act according to his majesty’s noble commands, the sense of rapture will wash over you.”
“There cannot be another mistake. I shall faithfully carry out the commands issued by his majesty the Holy Emperor. If the enemy surrenders, then I shall accept it, but if they don’t… Only death awaits for them.”
Oscal Baldur glared at the distant Aslan army. He clenched his teeth so hard that blood leaked out from the gums.
He then raised his left hand, and at the same time, blares of the warhorns resounded out. The war drums’ beats steadily matched the rhythm.
Boom, boooom, boooom!
That was the signal to urge the other side to surrender.
However, the Aslan army didn’t display any response whatsoever. That was their own way of declaring their intention to not surrender.
The Holy Emperor did say this – that all those who refused to surrender should receive the gift of death.
“Oh, the god of war Heim.”
try { window._mNHandle.queue.push(function () { window._mNDetails.loadTag("386623558", "300x250", "386623558"); }); } catch (error) { }
Divinity began rapidly gathering on Oscal’s blade.
Oscal held the reins in one hand, and swung the sword in the other.
He and his ride broke into a sprint.
Once their lead began sprinting forward, the cavalry also started dashing forward and grouped up around him.
The ground beneath rumbled as the riders got into a wedge formation. As brilliant rays of light reflected off their gleaming armours, the Paladins and Priests all roared out in unison.
“It’s the sword king! Oscal Baldur!”
“Bloody hell! All of you, follow me!”
By then, the feudal lords had also finished preparing for the battle. Aslan’s own mounted troops gathered around the lords to move out.
“For the glory of Aslan!”
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