FL - Chapter 74: One, Two, Three—Boom!

In the darkness, Louis and Bond crouched behind a forested slope overlooking makeshift ruins.

Knights hid on both sides, and the archers had taken their positions.

Bond couldn't settle his nerves.

"Baron Calvin, I urge you to reconsider."

Louis continued studying the terrain and checking the scouts' reports.

Bond pressed on. "We don't know whether the enemy will use this road or when they'll arrive.

"You have barely more than a hundred knights. Even with an ambush, can you stop eight hundred Snowsworn elites?

"If we lose, this force will be annihilated and Clearfeather Ridge will fall into enemy hands.

"We should return to the fortifications, defend the pass, and wait for the Duke's reinforcements."

"Enough," Louis said. "I am the commander."

Bond froze.

There was no anger or attempt to assert authority in Louis's voice. He had merely stated a fact that allowed no argument.

Bond clenched his jaw and fell silent.

*A few victories have gone to his head. He thinks he can fight eight hundred elite warriors and will bury the entire force here.*

Bond briefly considered killing Louis and taking command.

He dismissed the thought at once. The soldiers and knights regarded Louis as the object of their faith. Any attempt would end in Bond's death.

He could only watch the road below.

A faint sound rose from the forest.

Then came steady hoofbeats, scraping iron, and creaking leather.

Bond's body jolted.

"They're really here?"

He turned toward Louis in shock.

*He predicted everything?*

Perhaps the young noble had understood the entire situation from the beginning.

...

Cold wind swept down the ridge.

Eight hundred Snowsworn elites advanced along the rugged trail, most of them wolf riders and cavalry sent to retake Clearfeather Ridge as quickly as possible.

"Why send so many men against two hundred knights?"

Garrett rode a black-and-silver war wolf, weariness on his face.

He was a rare Snowsworn veteran who had survived three extermination campaigns and crawled from mountains of corpses.

Garrett had hoped to rest in Snowhawk City and enjoy the spoils. Instead, orders had sent him straight back into the field.

"Damn my luck."

He wasn't alone in his resentment.

Impatience spread through the vanguard. The younger riders wanted a quick victory so they could return to Snowhawk City.

"Two hundred men guarding a tiny pass, and they act like we're attacking the Imperial Capital."

"A waste of time."

"We're nearly there," the adjutant reported.

Garrett signaled for the column to slow and studied the valley.

Charred ruins lay below. Tent frames had collapsed, battle standards were broken, and frozen hides stirred stiffly in the wind.

"There it is."

The scene appeared to be an illusion produced by the Mirror of Veiled Mist, an artifact Garrett had used many times.

"It looks real at a distance, but the flaws appear within a few dozen yards. They thought this toy would fool us?"

He sliced one hand forward.

"Full speed! Encircle them from both sides and swallow them before they react!"

The wolf riders roared.

Eight hundred cavalry split into two wings and surged toward the ruins, spreading into a half-circle as the vanguard entered the valley.

They expected to destroy the position within minutes.

Less than a hundred yards remained.

The shattered tents, fallen posts, and scorched earth looked too real.

"Something's wrong!"

Garrett hauled on the reins.

This wasn't an illusion.

It was a real ruin deliberately arranged to resemble one.

They had entered a trap.

The realization came too late.

Louis stood in the cliff's shadow and raised his right hand.

"One. Two. Three."

His hand fell.

"Boom."

The air vanished beneath a deafening detonation.

**BOOM!**

Mana Blast Bombs buried throughout the mountainside exploded in a chain reaction, unleashing wind and flame across Clearfeather Ridge.

The wolf riders in the canyon had no time to respond.

Blue light flashed first.

A wave of killing cold froze the air. Dozens of riders at the front became twisted statues of knights and wolves, then the blast's suction dragged them toward its center.

Mana Marrow ignited next.

Blue frost became fire. Waves of flame rolled outward and engulfed scores of warriors.

Heat and shock waves tore crimson cracks through the snow. Wolf pelts burned, armor split, and bodies rolled across the ground as living fireballs.

Scorched war wolves screamed and collapsed, their flesh blackening.

Then toxic, corrosive mist rose.

The black fog spread with deceptive calm. The first riders who inhaled it convulsed, vomited blood, and fell howling.

Skin corroded beneath their armor and peeled away.

The attack still wasn't over.

The chained explosions destabilized the valley floor.

"Retreat!"

The riders outside the blast center tried to turn, but both mountainsides began to shake.

Massive boulders poured down with ice and debris.

**RUMBLE!**

One crushed a war wolf's spine and hurled mount and rider into nearby comrades.

Screams and breaking bones filled the canyon.

Severed limbs flew. Horses shrieked and beasts roared.

The strongest wolf-rider elites of the snowfields were helpless before the destruction.

The valley held only the cries of the dying and the stench of charred flesh.