CHAPTER 253: CHAPTER253-THE TOTAL ASSAULT

In the central command tent, the king convened with the generals present to discuss the battle plan.

"Ruth, you will lead five thousand elite troops tomorrow in search of the Millennium Snow Lotus."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Greg, tonight, you will take fifty thousand troops and ten days’ worth of provisions, quietly bypass Norton’s main army, and reach the enemy’s right flank. Upon seeing the signal I provide, ignite the skywolf smoke and then immediately strike without error."

"Should my signal not be given, do not act rashly, even if the heavens fall."

"Understood."

"Alanis, two hours from now, you will lead fifty thousand troops towards Norton’s left flank. Remember, you must be loud and noticeable; ensure Norton is aware of your troops moving to his left. If Norton dispatches forces to strike, do not engage in prolonged combat, yet do not immediately retreat. Instead, fight while feigning a collapse."

"Yes, Your Majesty. I will fulfill your command."

"Good. Remember, the moment you see the skywolf smoke signal, it is time for our total assault. Strike immediately without delay. Is that clear?"

The generals responded in unison, "Yes, Your Majesty."

Having laid out the battle strategy, the king, wearied, waved his hand, dismissing the generals.

On the opposing side, Norton was also planning his strategy.

"Father, the king’s forces have arrived, but the plan Blois promised seems unfulfilled."

Norton, his face clouded with worry, listened to his younger son’s concern, his own anxiety deepening.

"Rest assured. I believe that young Blois hasn’t let us down just yet. Even if he fails to keep his initial promise, it’s alright."

In saying this, Norton sought to comfort both his son and himself.

"Report!"

"Enter."

"Twenty miles out, there are about two hundred thousand enemy troops, with around fifty thousand of them moving towards our left flank."

Hearing the soldier’s report, Norton pondered, "What is the king planning by moving fifty thousand troops to my left flank? Could it be an attempt to strike my rear?"

"Send fifty thousand cavalry to raid them immediately."

"Yes, Marshal."

"Father, the fifty thousand cavalry are all of our cavalry forces. Isn’t that too..."

Seeing his younger son’s concern, he explained, "Don’t worry. Although the fifty thousand cavalry represent all of our mounted troops, our main force lies within our one hundred thousand heavy infantry."

"Send word to Berth to lead the fifty thousand cavalry in a raid against the enemy on our left flank."

"Also, inform Ferguson to lead one hundred thousand light infantry and fifty thousand heavy infantry to attack the king’s main camp in three days."

"Yes, Marshal."

After distributing the battle plans, Norton sat in the grand tent, silently awaiting National Preceptor Blois to fulfill his promise.

...

A black bird, dark as ink, flew towards Norton’s grand tent.

Sitting within, Norton, seeing the sudden intrusion of the vulture, exclaimed joyously, "Ha! It seems that young Blois is quite reliable after all!"

His younger son, quick as lightning, caught the vulture, causing it to thrash wildly and shed a flurry of black feathers.

Unconcerned with the vulture’s struggle, he removed the black onyx tied to its talon and handed it to his father.

Taking the black onyx from his son, Norton chided, "Quickly release Blois’s beloved bird. Don’t kill it, or I’ll have trouble explaining to that young Blois."

"Yes, Father."

Norton’s son released the vulture’s talon, and the bird, in a panic, flew out of the grand tent.

Father and son shared a knowing smile as Norton picked up the black onyx and held it to his ear to listen.

"Marshal Norton, by the time you hear this message, our plan will have succeeded. The king has marched his army against you, following my advice. However, I have cursed the king’s body. All you need to do is ignite a large amount of horse manure during the final battle. The smoke from the manure will awaken the curse within the king’s body, ensuring his demise, and I will fulfill the promise I made to you."

After listening to Blois’s message left in the black onyx, Norton was overjoyed.

"Someone, quickly gather all the usable horse manure from the camp, let it dry, and be ready to ignite it during the final battle."

The soldiers, unclear why Marshal Norton would want to collect horse manure and ignite it during the final battle, began the collection.

Cartloads of horse manure were brought into the camp to be dried, spreading the smell of manure throughout the battlefield.

...

"Your Majesty, I’m not sure if Norton has been scared senseless by Your Majesty’s formidable army, or what trick he’s playing at, collecting horse manure in his camp. I can’t see what use it could possibly have," said Peter, one of the king’s trusted generals.

The king, hearing Peter’s comment, didn’t say much but ordered, "Peter, later, send someone from Undercurrent to check what Norton is up to. Why is he collecting horse manure? What conspiracy lies behind this?"

Peter kneeled on one knee, "Yes."

Watching Peter leave the grand tent, the king felt as if there was something inside his body, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

This feeling pressed heavily on his mood, making it difficult to bear, yet he knew he couldn’t show any weakness in front of his soldiers.

With the battle approaching, any sign of trouble from him could adversely affect the entire war effort.

...

Norton’s camp was rife with the stench, as soldiers, holding their noses, continued to load dried horse dung onto carts.

"I’m baffled. Instead of sharpening our strategy for the battle, we’re here collecting horse dung. Can horse dung fight a war?"

Inside the grand tent, Norton’s younger son reported, "Father, I’ve heard the soldiers are quite discontented with your order to collect horse dung. This could negatively affect the battle."

Hearing his younger son’s words, doubts also surfaced in Norton’s mind, "Indeed, if we continue like this, might the king sense my intentions? Minor unrest among the soldiers is one thing, but if the king catches onto Blois’s plan, it could spell failure. It seems we must accelerate our timeline for the assault."

After pondering for a moment, Norton commanded, "Tonight, our forces will launch the total assault. Inform the soldiers that before we attack, we’ll ignite the horse dung. The smoke from the horse dung will serve as the signal for the assault, understood?"

Hearing that the assault was set for that night, the son’s expression brightened with excitement—not just his, but the entire army had been restless from days of collecting horse dung.

As night fell silently, the battlefield was unusually quiet, as if even the birds and insects knew that this place would soon turn into a bloodbath.

Patrolling soldiers, smelling an even stronger stench of horse dung than usual, cursed, "Has Norton lost his mind being scared by our king, gathering all this horse dung? Does he fancy eating it? Ha ha..."

Hearing their leader’s remarks, other patrolling soldiers chimed in, "Yeah, yeah! Has the old fool gone mad from fear of our king? Ha ha ha..."

As the king’s men mockingly bantered about Norton, outside, Norton’s younger son Edward stealthily led an advance guard of five thousand troops to the outskirts of the king’s camp.

Hearing the patrol soldiers mocking his father, he scoffed, "Soon enough, your heads will fall."

Edward glanced behind him, seeing intermittent flashes of fire signaling that the time was ripe, with the stench of horse dung growing increasingly intense.

"All troops, prepare to attack."

The blast of a great horn sounded, and Edward, leading five thousand light infantry, charged towards the king’s main camp.

Then, Norton’s massive army of two hundred thousand followed suit, erupting into a cacophony of war cries.

The king, hearing the horn from outside his tent, knew that Norton’s forces had launched the total assault.

"Someone!"

A warrior, hearing the king’s call, quickly entered the tent awaiting orders.

"Issue my command: ignite the skywolf smoke as a signal, ready for the decisive battle."

"Yes, my king."

The warrior, upon receiving the order, dashed out of the tent.

The blood-red smoke of the skywolf rose into the night sky.

Greg, quietly positioned on Norton’s right flank, saw the blood-red signal of the skywolf smoke piercing the night and knew the long-awaited decisive battle had finally commenced.

Pulling aside the tent flap, Greg faced the eagerly waiting generals, their faces alight with excitement, ready to unleash the fury pent up over many days.

"All troops, attack immediately."

The generals, upon hearing Greg’s command, responded in unison, "At your command!"

Meanwhile, Alanis and his force of fifty thousand had been engaged in combat with Norton’s cavalry for two days and now awaited the skywolf smoke signal at the predetermined location.

Upon seeing the signal of the skywolf smoke, Alanis immediately ordered a counterattack.

The main force, led by Peter with one hundred thousand heavy infantry, engaged Norton’s army head-on.

On the left flank, Alanis led fifty thousand light infantry to contain Norton’s left, while on the right, Greg led a mixed force of fifty thousand cavalry and light infantry, launching a surprise attack on Norton’s right flank.

At this moment in the decisive battle, Norton’s forces were encircled by the king’s royal army.

"Father, our army is surrounded by the king’s forces," reported Norton’s younger son, Edward.

Hearing Edward’s report, Norton remained composed, "Don’t panic; we still have an ace up our sleeve that hasn’t come into play yet."

Both of Norton’s sons, puzzled by their father’s confidence, asked, "An ace? Could it be the horse dung?"

Norton chuckled darkly, "Yes, the horse dung."

The king, seated in his grand tent, listened to the messengers relay battle reports one after another, growing increasingly confident in the imminent victory.

Norton’s defeat seemed certain.

"Report!"

Another messenger rushed into the tent to deliver the latest battle news.