Twelve days had passed in a flash, as fortresses fell one after another. Valtherion's adaptation of Napoleon's strategy was flawless, as it allowed him to surprise the enemy defenders and outnumber them.
When it came to open-field battles, they would retreat and bait the enemy, while the rest of the contingents would coordinate and gather at a spot, ambushing the enemy and encircling it. This is how Valtherion won a second major battle, as 50,000 orcs and various monstrosities gave chase to one of his small contingents of 10,000.
By now, his men had conquered multiple castles and established plenty of logistical points, allowing him to finally reach Gadgeztan, fully supplied and ready to siege the twelve-meter-tall walls.
His troops were converging, each arriving by the hour, and soon, they would all be here. Needless to say, they all looked at him with reverence. He was a young strategic genius, and also a proven warrior that is now an expert, all at 16. If there was a downside, it was that someone called him the Snowman general, due to his hair being half silver now.
"My lord, everyone has arrived and assumed formations. Should we begin?" Brandon came forward as he announced that the whole army was present and had assumed a formation. Gadgeztan lay on a slope; it was not a good place to siege usually, as the soldiers would be on an incline; however, he did not seem worried at all.
Before the battles had even begun, he had ordered his engineers to construct 50 sky ladders. A Chinese invention from Earth, allowing soldiers to scale the wall with ease, as a wide ladder would be extended and provide footing for scaling. It was not an invention that was familiar to the warring forces here; thus, everyone had a little bit of suspicion until Valtherion had proven them wrong, as he used the device to scale the wall and gain a foothold there.
"What are their numbers, Brandon?" Valtherion asked as he embedded his spear into the ground. He would be going on the wall with a shield and a sword, lest he be made a porcupine by the welcoming hosts, who were now mocking them for their lack of siege engines.
"Around 60 to 70 thousand. There appear to be no elite forces here, however...however it seems that this is a slave hub and a resource point for them, as you said. There are enslaved humans here." Brandon said, gnashing his teeth. Besides eating humans, Dark Elves and their hordes also used their captives for labour.
"I see...Brandon, convey my order; do not spare a single thing in that city. We will free our kind, but I will not allow a single pest to leave the city." Valtherion said as he put his helmet on. The plan was simple: assault the wall with his Experts, jump down and open the gate. The rest would be left to fate after his cavalry surged in.
The horn sounded as the drums beat and the Imperial Flags, as well as the Mograine Family's flag, fluttered in the air. The enemies were laughing as they saw the soldiers push carts towards their wall, in a turtle formation.
Some of his men fell; most did not. If anything, the incline allowed them to reach the wall faster, and soon it began. A soldier cut one of the ropes that bound the ladders, and the construct began to unveil itself. The hooks of the ladder embedded themselves in the wall, under the panicky eyes of the goblin archers. Spells were even fired from above; however, the humans stuck to their formation.
"Push off the ladder! Fool!" Screamed someone atop the wall.
"I can't! The hooks, they are stuck!" a panicked goblin said as he gave his best to push the ladder before resorting to throwing stones; however, a human soldier was climbing unhinged, with his shield raised.
"Throw the oil!" Someone ordered, but it was soon shut down, as a volley of arrows fell, covering the climbing soldiers and preventing things from being thrown for a moment. That one moment was enough, as by now 20 experts had climbed the wall and were wreaking havoc.
Valtherion beheaded an orc and kicked his body, watching it fall with a thud; then he jumped, landing on top of it, creating a puddle of blood. This scene repeated as his experts were slowly gathering in front of the gate. The enemies, too, had experts; however, all that Valtherion needed was a moment to open the gates, and he had it, under the cover of Dain and Luther.
Under the tempering of war, his fighting skills had grown, while his tolerance to bloodshed was further enhanced. The taste of blood, it now excited him, made his heart beat wilder. The boy and painter in him had died, giving birth to a warrior, a leader.
On top of the walls, the Mograine infantry was winning at a fast rate against the goblins. By now, the men had faced multiple times, refining their formations and skills as well. Enemies that were shorter than them, such as the goblins, were no match for an Army that was being tempered with each passing day.
A loud horn resounded as the cavalry charged straight towards the gate. Brandon rushed in, throwing Valtherion his spear, who caught it and began to cleave wave after wave of enemies.
An Expert of the orc Race confronted him; however Valtherion, Valtherion was agile. Whatever Alaric Dane had given him had changed his whole body. It was a tad stronger than usual, but it was elastic, akin to a serpent. Valtherion would dodge and slash at every opening he had, drilling hole after hole in the Orc's body, before beheading it and kicking it's body, sending it flying away in the forming shield formation of the Orcs and Chitara.
As an Expert, he could crush this wall, but it would be hard. Thankfully, he was not alone; the cavalry was pouring in, and soldiers were coming down. It was an utter slaughter as the enemies were forced to retreat, only to be slaughtered.