Bear School Astartes-Chapter 606 - 609. Deflagration, mead

Hacksaw did not follow noble etiquette, reporting his name after being asked.

In his previous life, this kind of mistake was something he couldn’t even imagine.

But today, he no longer cared.

Hacksaw didn’t even look the obviously noble-born aristocrat in the eye. His gaze extended to the end of the dense Niflgaard Army.

"Are they almost all inside?"

Stuart nodded calmly, "Yes, Father."

"Then I shall begin."

Hacksaw raised the heavy iron scepter in his hand high, drew a large circle in mid-air, and then suddenly stopped at the end of the stroke with a downward motion.

Among the few who came to negotiate, the naming officer was just about to reprimand the barbarian from the north for his rudeness when he failed to respond immediately after the Duke questioned him.

But immediately... "Boom!!!" *N

A series of loud explosions suddenly erupted from the mountain walls surrounding the Ring Mountain!

Darkley, standing beside Duke Adal, was suddenly startled, his eyes widening, and he threw himself directly toward the Duke on horseback, shielding the noble-blooded individual with his body.

Hot waves surged.

When the wave of explosions subsided, the Niflgaard people realized what their surroundings had become.

From the mountain walls around the Ring Mountain, numerous ignition points had connected into a sheet. Around the ignition points, there were faint traces of human remains, presumably the bodies of those who set the fires.

The positions of these ignition points continually flowed with some sort of liquid combustible, like a spring.

The mountain forest, dry from winter, quickly turned the entire Ring Mountain into a blazing furnace!

And in that one and only gap, at least three large horse-drawn carts, from who knows where, came rushing down the slope, crashing and igniting.

The Niflgaard soldiers, though elite and efficient, could not help but fall into chaos when faced with such sudden and explosive fires.

The soldiers standing near the gap of the Ring Mountain were silently crushed to death by the carts falling from above. The combustible materials that shattered and splattered from the carts instantly turned over a dozen soldiers into screaming, running human torches.

Horses neighed, black smoke billowed. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

The soldiers rushed to the remnant carts at the gap of the Ring Mountain, trying to see if there was any way to get through. They all sniffed, then their faces changed dramatically.

"That smell... it’s Sodden Mountain Triple Mead!"

They had tasted this when plundering in the Sodden Region, fierce as a blade, sweet as honey.

High-concentration alcohol and high-concentration sugar.

And when these two things mixed and ignited, they were as deadly as incendiary bombs. But due to cost issues, no one should have used such fine wine this way.

But now, seeing the number of ignition points on the slope... it was terrifying!

Hacksaw’s scouts suffered major losses, partly because of intelligence gathering on the Battle of Sodden, partly due to this batch of wine.

He was the Royal Steward of Sintra, and he remembered that there was a royal wine cellar dedicated to this wine nearby.

Although King Tursic had a great fondness for this wine, considering its current use, His Majesty would surely agree, wouldn’t he?

In the rolling heat, Hacksaw supported himself with the iron scepter, standing before the chaotic, lamenting refugees.

The sudden explosion and heat first filled Duke Adal with fear; after being shielded by Darkley, he even struggled in fear and panic.

In disarray and awkwardness.

Then, realizing it wasn’t a massive explosive attack, he calmed down slightly.

The calmer Duke roughly pushed away Darkley, who was shielding him, and stood up.

It was a time of horse and human cries, chaos all around. But the men he had with him were elite among elites, and even in such unexpected circumstances, they quickly formed a tight formation, enclosing him in the center.

But the Duke adjusted his helmet, casting a sidelong glance at the faces of his guards.

Whether it was a delusion or not, he felt that after his fall, their eyes seemed... piercing!

Duke Adal gritted his teeth, breathing heavily, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

Panic, humiliation... all these emotions eventually boiled down to one—rage!

You northern monkeys! Barbarians! Bastards!

Clearly, you were already caught! Clearly, you were already driven to desperation! Clearly, you were only leading a group of maggot-like refugees!

Wasn’t the leader supposed to be a smart man?! The Sintra people are not afraid to die, why didn’t the Demon Hunter stop them, isn’t he afraid to die too?!

How dare you... how dare you humiliate me! Humiliate the noble identity and bloodline of Niflgaard!

Did you think that by causing some small, little disturbance, you could summon reinforcements?!

Utterly ridiculous!

Disregarding his own army’s current chaos, Duke Adal furiously grabbed a guard’s armor.

"Kill them..."

Duke Adal’s facial muscles twitched, making him look like a starving wolf.

"Except for the targeted ones we spoke about before! Leave none alive! Kill them all! No! Leave the leader, I want to roast him alive! Roast him on the fire he started!"

The guard who had been grabbed nodded at the command, then turned to start reporting to Darkley.

Under normal circumstances, the orders of the noble lord were paramount, but now, since the lord had only issued a vague command, it made sense to turn to the officer who could devise a plan for detailed orders.

"What are our casualties?"

Darkley lifted his helm and asked.

"Seventeen Black Infantry Archers from the back formation are dead, wounded numbers unknown."

The damage was insignificant; the real issue was the fire spreading around with the flowing mead.

Darkley squinted at the flames flowing down with the Ring Mountain’s terrain.

"Cavalry, hold position, maintain order! Send five hundred infantry to slaughter those refugees, the rest, control the fire, and clear the burning debris blocking the exit! Move!"

"Raise the battle flag! Tell everyone this is a minor matter, just a small accident!"

Under Darkley’s command, the disarrayed Niflgaard Legion began to operate again.

The Duke’s fury was the signal to unleash full force. The fully prepared Niflgaard Infantry Legion drew their swords in unison with a spine-chilling sound of metal scraping and moved toward the refugee group.

And standing between the refugee group and the Niflgaard people were only Hacksaw and his few dozen men.

The refugees behind them were almost driven mad with fear.

Behind them, the slope burned red with flames and heat, while the cold blades of the Niflgaard soldiers were nearly at their throats.

"Let me go... let me go!"

The hysterical screams echoed relentlessly, like Demon Spirits under the shadow of the flames.

The refugees charged forward, out of the line of Hacksaw and the Sintra Warriors.

Not out of courage, but out of mindless fear.