The Foolhardies - Chapter 195 Courage Under Fire

In the words of Bane from that awesome movie, The Dark Knight Rises, “The fire rises!”

Luca’s assault on the southern line of Amon’s personal guard got the reaction I hoped it would create — a slow dripping nervousness that one gets after one realizes that the wolf is already inside the barn house.

Now, you might say that a ragtag group of four hundred against five-thousand highly-trained soldiers seems like suicide, but Luca and his team weren’t up against five thousand. At most, they were facing off against a thousand infantry who’d been surprised by their sudden appearance and subsequent charge.

As for the other four thousand soldiers, they wouldn’t come to rescue their friends either. Their job was to maintain the square formation which was their absolute defense.

Although this was the correct response, I knew it would lead to their downfall later on because, despite appearances, Luca’s unit was nothing like a ragtag group of inexperienced soldiers. They were, in fact, a highly-trained force that was used to being the underdog in every battle.

I watched as my younger brother led his unit from the very front, his new weapon cutting easily through the heads of enemy fairies and humans alike.

The sight of its great shadowblade sent my mind drifting back to the night we’d left Hoodwink Tower for the war front when I called Luca over to Zarz workshop in the tower’s basement.

“Why are we here, Dean?” Luca asked a little annoyed as I’d stolen him away from quality time with Pike. “I’m not really a big fan of the death toys you and Zarz cook up, man…”

“Cool your jets, lover boy,” I teased. “I’ve got something that’ll make you forget that pixie’s pretty face for a while.”

Luca looked like he doubted that, and his face only made me laugh harder. My little brother who’d only recently turned fifteen a month before I turned sixteen seemed more girl-crazed than I was.

“Zarz, unveil my birthday gift, will you,” I ordered.

“You’re a few weeks late, Dean,” Luca complained, although there was a slight grin growing on his face at the mention of a birthday gift.

“Yeah, well, this baby took a while to forge, kiddo,” Zarz commented.

He walked over to his work table and pulled on the large piece of cloth he’d placed over it in order to reveal the object hiding underneath.

“Whoa…” Luca whispered. “It’s a sword-hilt…”

Luca brushed fingers over the metal hilt.

“The grip is made from dire wolf leather,” I began to explain. “The jewel in the round pommel is a wind elemental aura stone which should amplify your Augmentaire. And the metal used for the base…”

I picked up the sword-hilt and offered it to him.

“That’s silver-grade elf-forged steel and this cross hilt is sturdier than your previous one,” I said proudly. “Try releasing the shadowblade.”

“This is…” Luca seemed at a loss for words.

“Yeah, It took a while but I was finally able replicate my master, Silent Mildew’s, iron arcane focus like the one set in the core of Dean’s falchion,” Zarz said proudly.

The shadowblade that popped out of the sword-hilt’s base was a four-and-a-half-foot double-edge blade whose charred edge glowed with a faint blue hue similar to mine. The flat of Luca’s new sword was wide enough that it could theoretically double as a narrow shield.

“It’s a badass, vibro-sword-type claymore,” I explained. “Belated happy birthday, bro!”

That wide grin showing on Luca’s face was now a precious memory, one I carried with me into tonight’s battlefield. As I gazed down at him from on high, I thought he might be showing off a similar smile now since this was technically the first time he got to whip out his claymore outside of training because Zarz’ had kept it for maintenance during yesterday’s battle.

“Hey, Dean,” Edo called. “It’s about time we made our move.”

By this point, Luca’s cavalry while supported by Qwipps’ air force managed to penetrate deep into the Amon’s troops in the south of their square formation. They’d barrelled past the frontline and were now in space between them and the enemy’s secondary line where an enemy commander would have been leading from.

Past this second line, however, was the interior of Amon’s square formation which would be open space that was basically a direct path to Amon and the five-hundred special forces that surrounded him.

However, most of his forces in the interior were infantry, and against a well-trained cavalry charge there was a high chance of an infantry’s defeat.

In order to avoid such a scenario from happening, Amon would have no choice but to have his east and west lines collapse into the southern interior to fill up the space and prevent Luca’s cavalry charge from penetrating any further.

This was exactly what happened moments later, and it was just what I wanted. Man, it did seem like this well-known general was dancing in the palm of my hand, and I loved this feeling of strategic superiority.

“Yeah,” I answered Edo’s earlier suggestion. “Let’s get ready to move out.”

I glanced behind me toward the men, and despite the determined look on their faces, I could sense the growing unease in them. I knew they understood that this mission would be a harrowing one. It would be four-hundred against one to two thousand, and we didn’t have the luxury of mobility that Luca’s cavalry had.

They would need some encouragement, I realized and so I assumed it was time for another speech.

I slammed the butt of my falchion onto the electrum plate on my chest to get everyone’s attention. A little noise was fine now as the time for stealth was over.

“We’re taking down Amon, the Shield of Rah…” I sent a sweeping gaze across the many faces looking back at me. “I ask you, do you have the courage? What do your hearts tell you? What can your eyes see?”

I slammed the butt of my falchion onto my chest plate a second time for effect.

“Anxiety? Fear? Death?” I stood up from my crouching position. “All I see is an enemy we must defeat as well as the path for our victory. For now, it is the time for action!”

I sent my killing intent into my falchion and released the shadowblade hidden within it.

“My sword will carve open a path forward, and in the name of Auranos, our great Patriarch, I promise you victory like always!” I pointed the tip of my sword at the men who watched me with bated breath. “Follow me… or are you guys saying you’re inferior to Luca’s troops and can’t do what they’re doing now?”

That got a rise out of them. One by one they stood, their nervousness shaking off from them as they rose.

“As if we’d let Qwipps Daggerby outdo any of us,” someone answered.

This was met with a few laughs and ayes.

“Bring it on,” Leeroy, Azuma’s second-in-command, called. “We’re the elite of the Foolhardies.”

“Right on,” Thor added.

“Onward then… to victory and to a red dawn!” I called.

Wordlessly, the soldiers nodded and raised their weapons high.

I faced forward once more, and without turning back, I said, “Follow my lead!”

With zero hesitation remaining inside me, I dashed forward, turned the corner, and then sprinted across the open space toward the enemy soldiers whose attentions had been stolen away by my brother’s attack.

Behind me, the thunderous march of hundreds of feet followed, and with them came the murderous intent of four-hundred Foolhardies who were hungry for another taste of glory.

“Ya~~ah!” I yelled as I ran at full speed. My sword raised high.

A resounding roar exploded behind me as my Foolhardies began to let loose their own war cries across the stretch of desert between us and our prey.

The enemy in the western line of the square formation was too late to notice us, too late to react, and by the time they sounded their alarms, my shadowblade was a mere ten yards from drawing first blood.

“Foolhardies!” I yelled.

Behind me, I heard the chant roared back at me, “Foolhardies! Foolhardies!”

Seconds later, our bodies collided with the enemy’s western line, our shadowblades singing as we swung them over the soldiers’ heads.

A shield rose to block my attack, but it might as well have been made of paper for my falchion wouldn’t be denied its first kill. I slashed downward and cut the kobold in front of me.

As the kobold fell in an almost slow-motion-like manner, I pushed past him and stabbed my falchion into the gut of the soldier behind him. Then I quickly pulled out my sword — the enemy’s flesh giving way to my shadowblade’s power — and pivoted to the right to avoid a spear tip aimed at my head.

I reversed the grip of my falchion, stepped past his spear’s tip, and then cut the belly of the kobold that had attacked me.

A quick twist of my wrist returned my falchion to its upright position, and without stopping my momentum, I slashed sideward at the next soldier to come within range.

I hopped to the left to avoid the slash of an enemy’s blade and then hopped back to the right to counter with a slash of my own.

Blood spurted out of the kobold whose arm I’d just severed, spraying my face with the sticky red stuff.

I barely managed to wipe it out of my eyes before I was attacked again from the front, and after rushing forward to smack this enemy’s brow with the butt of my sword, I roared, for the fervor of battle was on me now.

In the back of my head, I thought, Yes, the fire rises!