Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: The Elves' Rout
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Regardless of Eldar's scream, the battle on the ground had already begun.
Hasadian shouted.
"Don't waver! The enemies' numbers are fewer than ours anyway!"
Human soldiers: 70. Lizardmen: 80. Totaling barely 150.
In contrast, the elf warriors numbered 300.
'Of course, they've marched a long way without rest. One side is a cliff, the other a ravine. It's a narrow pass where numerical superiority is hard to leverage. But the same goes for them. We have enough numbers that their pincer attack won't mean much.'
Hasadian spoke to the other three centurions.
"The front unit, stay in formation. The rear unit, turn around and prepare for the lizardmen's attack."
"Which unit will you take, Great Chieftain?"
"I'll take the front."
The other three centurions agreed.
Retreating at this point was out of the question anyway.
Seeing how thoroughly prepared the enemy was, it meant they could smash the enemy's main force after this battle.
'The lizardmen tribe looks tough, so we'll hit the human tribe first. Once we rout the humans, we can escape this pass. In open ground, we can overwhelm the lizardmen with our numbers. Plenty of chance for victory.'
Even if everything went according to Hasadian's plan, it wasn't a great choice.
Attacking Autocity with the remaining forces afterward would be tough, and the retreating human soldiers might slip into Autocity and launch a surprise attack while the elf warriors rested. The humans knew the terrain better than the elves.
Of course, the battle might not go according to Hasadian's plan either.
As the elf archers nocked arrows, waiting for the enemy to enter 80 paces range, attacks rained down from above.
"Great Chieftain! Human soldiers on the canyon rim! Arrows!"
"Return fire!"
Arrows poured from overhead. Some elves broke formation dodging them, others crouched to shield themselves, horses thrashed with arrows in their flesh, riders fell unable to calm them, and a few regained their wits to fire back. Chaos reigned.
In the confusion, most elf warriors failed to notice the lizardmen cavalry, who had been advancing slowly, now charging.
Hasadian turned late and shouted.
"Lizardmen charging! Spearmen, don't break formation!"
At his bellow, the spearman in the front line finally came to their senses and raised their spears.
But tactically, it was too late for a good response.
Leading the lizardmen was Rakrak.
Mounted on his cockatrice Anakse, Rakrak pointed his left index finger at the sky.
A few elf spearmen, not understanding, glanced up where he pointed.
Rakrak slashed his index finger from the sky toward the elf spearmen.
A white line pierced the air.
Flash.
Tremor.
Light.
-Kwa────!
Lightning.
All touched by the light charred standing, steam billowing from noses, mouths, ears, and burst eyeballs. Those barely missed by the light fell from the shockwave alone, blinded and deafened.
The lizardmen warriors mounted with Rakrak screamed as they trampled the fallen elf warriors and charged straight at the elf swordsmen.
Hasadian, turning late, shouted.
"Don't show your backs! You cowards!"
But even to himself, his voice felt small and distant. His ears rang from the thunder.
In the first charge, cockatrice warriors' spear tips skewered two or three elf swordsmen each like kebabs.
The cockatrice warriors discarded spears without regret and drew swords.
As cockatrice warriors slashed enemies down, the cockatrices trampled survivors and crushed skulls with pecks.
By the time elf spearmen belatedly reformed from the rear, the cockatrice warriors prepared to withdraw without orders.
Hasadian breathed a momentary sigh of relief.
'That buys us a moment to...'
No. Relieving the withdrawing cockatrice warriors were lizardmen swordsmen.
Unlike cockatrice warriors, who stayed light for mounting, lizardmen swordsmen wore hardened leather armor oiled and stiffened for protection, and carried shields made from ancient scarabs.
Spear tips couldn't wound the swordsmen, who slit bellies, chests, and throats before spearmen could draw daggers.
Most had already lost the will to fight from Rakrak's lightning.
But with cliffs, ravines, and the sole path blocked by enemies, retreat was impossible. Some fought back.
Rakrak surveyed the battlefield.
'It's over.'
About 220 enemies remained, but few faced the black-scaled lizardmen.
The rest showed backs, shoving and trampling each other. Officers hacked allies' necks to rally, but it changed nothing.
Humans from Autocity opposite the lizardmen reluctantly killed charging elf warriors from the walls.
The elves' last hope was descending the ravine, with the crafty ones already climbing down. They didn't know human soldiers waited below.
Elves sensing their doom prostrated toward their god, praying.
Rakrak judged ending it quickly would be mercy for the elves.
"Charge again."
He muttered quietly.
Pajijik, low-flying above Rakrak's head, relayed his words.
-Charge again.
The warriors who needed to hear prepared and reformed for the charge.
"Charge."
-Charge.
Seong-un seized Eldar's moment of panic, negotiating non-intervention in the battle in exchange for Eldar staying out too.
He could easily read Eldar's thoughts.
'He thinks my divinity level is high, so if I intervene equally, we'll lose anyway. Without gods intervening, the elves might have a shot. Not a bad thought. But for me, better to stop Eldar from possessing and harming lizardmen warriors. We'll win the battle regardless.'
In the end, Eldar could only watch his elf warriors get massacred.
Eldar said with a mournful expression.
"L-Lost..."
Seong-un replied.
"At this point, 300 warriors isn't a small number, I'd say."
"...So?"
"So? Nothing much, just pointing out that losing that many elite elf warriors means your elf tribe's defenses have issues."
Eldar sighed.
"What do you want?"
He could have shouted, "What I want is your life!" and spurred Rakrak across the plains.
But Eldar's "Green-Eye" elf tribe was still far off.
'And I don't lack info on the northern coast.'
Conquering Eldar's elves could wait until he heard the details from Eldar.
Historically proven: promising no attack, then striking, often succeeded more.
Seong-un stated his demands.
"Information, technology, resources."
"That's everything, isn't it?"
"Strictly speaking, not everything."
Seong-un pointed at Eldar.
Eldar flinched as if stabbed.
"...Ugh."
Eldar seemed to ponder.
In player battles, an overwhelming victory—practically a win—might let the loser continue under humiliating conditions.
Technology and resources were straightforward.
Technology: All techs discovered and developed by Eldar's Green-Eye elves.
Resources: Like the tribute Eldar first demanded.
Information was special.
In Lost World, "information" meant all scouted entities, regions, maps, and stats, auto-saved in the player's "info tab."
Sharing meant giving real-time updated objective facts. It revealed nearby tribes' locations, numbers, progress; even personal discoveries like ancient ruins or watched entities' stats.
Tech and resources were past gains; info included future ones.
Seong-un figured Eldar had less than 50% chance of accepting.
'Life on the line, but he can just run. Better to flee than hand everything to the enemy.'
But against Seong-un's expectations, Eldar thought differently.
'...This might work out well.'
Losing Hasadian and 300 warriors hurt.
But even with them, surviving long on the northern coast was questionable.
'Nebula here runs dual races early-game, insanely strong. Better to ally with him than others, who are just as absurdly strong.'
Eldar cleared his throat suddenly and straightened.
"The god of this elf, Eldar, is moved by the mercy of Nebula, god of humans and lizardmen."
"What."
"Thus, as you said, I offer information, technology, resources—and whatever you need henceforth."
"What now."
"Please forgive my past arrogance."
"What is this."
Eldar bowed toward Seong-un.
Seong-un thought, What's this guy's angle now?
But hearing Eldar's explanation, he understood it was pure roleplay.
"Lord of Autocity, Hwikyung."
"Before greetings, may I ask what this gesture means?"
"We call it a handshake... Grasping hands, shaking, then embracing. A sign of closeness."
Rakrak glanced at Sairan, who nodded.
Merchants from the continent often did it; now trendy in Autocity. Hwikyung loved trends—trends meant change.
Rakrak extended his hand, then paused.
"My hands and body are covered in blood."
Rakrak was painted in elf blood—proof he fought at the front till the end.
Hwikyung shrugged, grasped his hand, shook, and hugged him. Sticky blood smeared her hands, clothes, cheek.
"No matter, Great Chieftain. Blood from fighting for us. If we don't share it, what's the point? An honor to wear it thus."
Rakrak wasn't swayed much by the horned human woman's words.
Still, she spoke well. An alliance leader who did wasn't a bad omen.
Rakrak chuckled lightly and looked around.
After routing the elves, he and the warriors followed Autocity soldiers inside to rest.
For Rakrak, entering the Autocity he'd only heard of from scouts felt novel.
Rakrak said.
"Hm, as you say, just trade. Does honor matter?"
"It does. Cheat, lose future partners. Bonus builds loyalty from past ones."
Rakrak eyed Hwikyung with lizard eyes.
Even honor was trade bonus to her.
But that wasn't the point.
"You want frequent trade with us going forward?"
"Of course."
Rakrak elbowed Sairan beside him.
"You'll be busy."
"Pardon?"
"No need to feign surprise."
Before Sairan replied, Rakrak told Hwikyung.
"He's been stationed here; treat him well, without skimping."
"So it will be."
Rakrak watched their eye contact.
Hwikyung was unusual, but for Rakrak, benefits likely outweighed risks ahead.
'Of course, solve this issue first.'
When Hwikyung mentioned a feast, Rakrak cut her off.
"Business first. ...Bring it."
Trades included tech exchanges and bulk resources, but Rakrak prioritized this.
Two lizardmen warriors grunted, pushing a cart.
A large fabric sack atop it. Rakrak opened it: full of iron scraps.
Hwikyung looked down.
"So this is it."
"Yes. Iron for sure. Far tougher than ours."
Found in ancient ruins by the black-scaled tribe, their strength was offset by smelting difficulty.
High melting point; hard for skilled lizardmen smiths to shape. Rakrak hated good weapon material wasted.
Hwikyung heard from her smith, who confidently offered to demonstrate if brought.
She expected human smiths, long handling ore, to outdo nomadic lizardmen.
Hwikyung invited Rakrak inner palace, bagged some scraps herself, took to smith.
The smith said wait, then struggled in his forge.
Sweating profusely, he emerged.
"Doesn't look possible, my lord?"