Tear A Path 78 Failure By His Own Hands

Once the initial fear and shock pa.s.sed, the soldiers rallied, forming their ranks. For every few men Chora killed, he'd have to pay in blood and flesh. It was a double edged sword. He'd thrown everything into the attack with his left hand, but dropped the skill and defense of using two.

He wasn't even using his tantra well. With it, he could melt through solid objects, bypa.s.sing steel armor like cutting water directly piercing the body. With every swing he could kill a person. But in anger he was slicing each person into pieces, wasting his tantra with each successive attack.

He didn't have much strength left to waste but the madness didn't let him stop. Unfortunately, for the enemy, only soldiers who saw him close up could really notice this. And usually they were the next one to go.

Everyone in the back could only see blood and flesh flying about without realizing who's it was. By this point his kills were closing in on a thousand but that was nothing compared to the big number.

"Men take the turrets!!", one person who also couldn't judge the situation well was standing at the helm of an army. "But sir, if we shoot it in there we'll kill some of our own men!!" A subordinate stood up in a short lived protest before his head came off.

The sword in Asw.a.n.gs hand fidgeted from the weight, he was getting desperate. He wasn't an idiot, in reality no n.o.bles were, and how could they be, from young they would be immersed in lessons and training leaps and bounds beyond what a soldier was taught even when they were enlisted.

The chronic disease that the n.o.ble breed held was their inbred ambition and c.o.c.kiness which was a recipe for disaster. The fact was he'd planned this trap quite well, even pushing three generals into a bad position from the start.

Of course there was a little luck involved with capturing their only son, but he'd utilized the opportunity better than most people probably could. But he didn't want to share the glory, if he'd told his superiors, there was no way he would keep the merits to himself. The command would be given to a more experienced person.

The two old men were called by him privately. If they'd killed Guru together, they'd be ridding the enemy of one of their strongest cards which deterred the Phesite army from going for a full aggressive strategy.

The merits they would achieve would far surpa.s.s killing the other two which they gladly left to the young man. He was here without orders, basically insubordination. But if he came back with atleast one gerrnal's head it wouldn't matter.

But he'd made mistakes, first was that he set a whole army to fight in what was originally a small village. The narrow roads limited the effectiveness of numbers. Also he set the whole army on Chora, if he'd just picked him off with ranged weapons Chora probably wouldn't have had any momentum in the first place.

Now he just watched a thousand men lose their lives under a single general. There was still one more outside with an army fighting the other half of his own. If he lost several thousand soldiers in the process of taking these two with an army of only a thousand, he'd still lose face and a lot of the merits he should've earned.

In his mind, if he set the turrets on them, at most he'd lose several hundreds, but he didn't know how long Chora would last which could lose him who knows how many.

Several contraptions were heaved up, they looked like two crossbows combined together with a cartridge of bolts set on top. A wheel with would be turned manually by two men, continuosly c.o.c.king and launchinggiant bolts at the enemy.

These were devastating anti- siege weapons, extremely devastating when mounted on castle walls. It's one strength combined with gravity's support it could tear through ranks like a knife through b.u.t.ter. Though it still retained some effectiveness when aimed downwards from a higher vantage point it was little more than a scary looking weapon now.

He was going to make his next mistake, these turrets, weren't made for accuracy . As soon as the baritone tw.a.n.gs rang out from the strings of the turrets, swathes of his own men die and a few barely grazed Chora with flying dirt.

He should've left it alone, with Soldiers in their ranks, Chora's strength was being drained quickly. Now with the ranks broken up by their own commander, freeing the berserk general who moved deeper into enemy lines, diving into a building to avoid the onslaught of flesh shredding bolts.

"Find him!!"Asw.a.n.g screamed in distress, the melodious voice cracking under the pressure. But they didn't need to do anything, he wasn't going anywhere. Just as they were searching the building.

One of their ranks were attacked by several hundred Naga warriors. The narrow path made it difficult to change their position and many of them had their backs against the coming enemy, not knowing what killed them before their bodies fell.

Asw.a.n.g made his first mistake at the start, he underestimated the strength of a general.