FL - Chapter 57: The Ambush

Whitefeather Canyon.

Wind howled across the heights, stirring clouds of fine dust.

At a concealed position above the canyon, Jon lay behind a boulder and whispered to Louis, "Boss... are you certain the Snowsworn will pass through here?"

They had departed before dawn with their knights and soldiers, leaving the main road to enter this maze of ravines.

They had spent the entire day preparing.

Barbed tripwires made from steel cable and iron hooks lay buried among the brush and loose stone at the narrowest choke points.

On the high ground to either side, they had dug channels for rockslides and secured boulders along the cliff edges, ready to send them crashing into the canyon with a single push.

Louis had inspected every position himself and prepared three separate escape routes.

They weren't here to fight to the death. This was an ambush, and ideally, they would suffer no casualties.

If anything went wrong, everyone had to escape intact.

But the canyon mouth remained empty even after the setting sun painted the cliffs blood-red.

Not even a bird had flown in to relieve itself.

Jon grew restless. "Boss, what if someone gave you false intelligence? If we've been tricked—"

"Quiet." Louis didn't turn around.

"Oh." Jon wisely closed his mouth.

Louis kept his gaze on the narrow pass below. "They're almost here."

His confidence came from the Daily Intelligence update he had received three days earlier.

*"An estimated thirty Snowsworn warriors will pass through the northern pass of Whitefeather Canyon three days from now, after midnight."*

Jon crouched behind the boulder, staring into the empty canyon and clicking his tongue in boredom.

"Are they really coming? Maybe someone fooled Boss..."

He stole a glance at Louis on the high ground. Louis stood at ease, without the slightest tension in his face.

Jon was about to grumble again when faint hoofbeats emerged from the forest below.

He jerked his head up and listened.

Another burst of hoofbeats echoed through the canyon. Not one horse, but an entire column.

Jon came alive. He nearly sprang to his feet. "D-damn... They're really here?!"

He ducked behind the rock again, disbelief written across his face. "Boss, can you see the future?!"

Louis ignored him, his eyes fixed on the canyon entrance.

A column advanced in silence through the northern mouth.

The warriors wore dark leather armor and iron pauldrons, leaving much of their upper bodies exposed to the cold. They carried an assortment of weapons—heavy axes, long spears, and even battered Imperial cavalry lances.

Every pair of eyes held the ferocity of a wild predator.

They were silent, vigilant, and ready to kill.

These were elite Snowsworn warriors. Their equipment was crude, but they were no common brigands.

Unlike the wandering rabble among the Snowsworn ranks, these men were trained killers—vicious hunting hounds.

Each possessed strength comparable to a mid-tier Formal Knight of the Ironblood Empire.

The warrior at their head reined in his horse and surveyed the canyon. "It's too quiet here."

Another bared his teeth. "What is there to fear? Those useless nobles have barely begun mustering. We're only here to show them what's coming."

Their mission was to enter through the northern pass and raid a noble reinforcement column that was still assembling.

It was a swift and brutal attack, typical of the Snowsworn.

To them, this was merely another decapitation strike.

They were accustomed to launching surprise attacks at dawn or dusk and trampling the invaders' territories beneath their horses.

The leading warrior suddenly hauled on his reins. The moment his horse planted a hoof, a hidden line snapped tight.

Clank!

The barbed cable burst from the dirt.

An iron hook coiled around the horse's leg and yanked. Horse and rider pitched forward together.

The surrounding mounts shrieked and shied away. Several riders tumbled from their saddles and rolled through the dust.

Metal barbs scraped across iron armor while blood seeped from the horses' torn legs.

Confusion erupted. Hooves pounded in disarray, throwing dust into the air.

The Snowsworn responded at once.

They vaulted from their saddles, hit the ground in rolls, drew their weapons, turned, and formed ranks in one smooth sequence.

No one screamed. No one panicked.

Their eyes were cold and bestial. Instinct had already warned them of danger.

"A trap," their leader said.

Only seconds passed between the tripwire springing and the warriors restoring order.

The atmosphere tightened. Their steady marching rhythm had been cut apart.

They knew they had entered an ambush, though they didn't know who had set it.

Several warriors at the center drew longbows and aimed toward the cliffs. The rest formed a circular defense around them, interlocking longswords, battle-axes, and spears.

Blades scraped against iron armor throughout the formation.

Without a single spoken order, the entire company had gone from travelers to hunters.

The leader drew his greatsword. "Prepare to engage."

A sharp command rang out from above.

"Now!"

The cliffs erupted into motion. Stone wheels turned with a groan, and crude wooden chutes released their boulders.

Crack! Crack!

The grinding roar shook the mountainside. Several massive stones plunged from the cliff top.

They gained speed along the prepared channels, tearing through the air as they hurtled toward the warriors below.

"Above us!" someone shouted.

The first boulder struck before the warning had finished.

Boom!

A warrior failed to evade it. The wagon-wheel-sized stone crushed his heavy armor and hurled him into the canyon wall. Blood sprayed across the rock.

"Damn it!" Another warrior rolled into the defensive ring.

More boulders crashed into the formation. Stone fragments flew, horses shrieked, and iron armor split beneath the impacts.

Dust billowed across the canyon, plunging the ravine into chaos.

"Formation! Hold formation!" the captain roared through the haze.

The Snowsworn were no rabble. Even under sudden bombardment, they maintained their discipline.

Several veterans read the terrain and led the company away from the main impact zone before the boulders could break them completely.

The attack had suppressed them, but it only sharpened their focus.

The captain narrowed his eyes and searched the dust-filled canyon.

Whoever had arranged this ambush wouldn't expect the rocks to finish them. The real battle was only beginning.