At the turbulent Skogport, cannons from the Tyrrell Academy of Engineering mercilessly bombarded the struggling barbarian defenders. The booming cannons and carefully aimed mortars shattered their last laughable resistance.
The Ash Legion soldiers advanced in waves, forming solid formations. Their tight ranks pushed forward, while musket and crossbow units unleashed dense volleys, obliterating any stubborn holdouts. Lacking cavalry, they relied on a heavy deployment of sword-and-shield infantry to protect their flanks, following the orders of the Legion Commander. Additionally, they received support from a contingent of lizardmen cold one riders.
Above, a squad of pterosaur riders soared in the sky. The lizardmen atop these creatures hurled boulders and launched ferocious charges, dealing devastating blows to the resisting barbarian warriors. As one defensive line after another crumbled under the assault, the barbarians were left with only a few taverns and hidden corners of the streets as their last holdouts.
Deep within the forest, visible to the naked eye, sat the mighty Mazdamundi, the Slann Mage-Priest. Seated high on the sacred triceratops, Zarak, he appeared to be asleep, head bowed and silent, with only his black cobra staff emanating a terrifying magical aura.
"Great Lord, our allies of the warm-blood races are steadily advancing. It seems the enemy followers are nearing an irreversible defeat. The stars predict this will be a great victory for us." Whispered Ixitl, the Skink Priest known as the "Preserver," surrounded by hundreds of temple guards. "The Chaos Champion has already been beheaded by Fugen with a single strike."
"Very well. Order the warm-bloods to continue their advance," Mazdamundi responded slowly, after what seemed like a long time. The Slann Mage-Priest looked contentedly at the fierce battle near the shore. "The coast must also be purified."
With that, Mazdamundi appeared to realize he should take action. He raised his hand towards the sky.
Stars glittered, and the light of order illuminated the cosmos.
Chanting incantations, the power of the universe suppressed the evil.
A beam of light, pure and radiant like the sun, shot down from the heavens, piercing the battlefield in Skogport.
The barbarian's last stronghold was utterly annihilated by the beam. Thousands of barbarians perished, their fortress reduced to nothing but a barren wasteland, leaving nothing behind on the beach.
With a rumble, the ground shook. A twenty-meter-high tsunami, summoned by the will of Mazdamundi, engulfed all the retreating barbarian ships, smashing them into pieces.
On the ground, a massive earthquake fissure, tens of meters wide, swallowed over three hundred barbarian raiders attempting to flee into the forest. The gap then closed instantly, the sound of crushing flesh echoing from below.
Thus, the Battle of Skogport concluded. Under the combined assault of the Ash Legion and the lizardmen, the Skog tribe was utterly destroyed, with no barbarians managing to escape.
Seeing the end of the battle, the lizardmen said nothing. Mazdamundi merely nodded towards the Legion Commander, Fugen, from afar before turning and disappearing into the rainforest with his temple guards. The remaining lizardmen followed suit.
"A glorious victory, Commander," remarked Fernando Pilazzo, the Ash Legion's deputy commander, with a satisfied smile. "We have finally eradicated those damned barbarians! This land is now ours!"
Fugen, his long white hair fluttering in the smoke, gripped his golden power sword, "Glory," and gazed dispassionately at the head of the Chaos Champion, Rosteringer-Kur. He felt no urge to collect it. The duel had been too easy to bring him any joy. However, after more than a year, he had finally dealt with this troublesome barbarian tribe.
Yes, troublesome. Fugen rarely used this term to describe an enemy. Even during the Great Expedition, he seldom encountered foes that he found difficult.
But the Skog tribe had been a particularly vexing adversary. Their army was composed of numerous fast-moving raider cavalry, highly mobile and bolstered by a significant number of Chaos warriors. These heavily armored barbarians were formidable in battle, often requiring five or more human soldiers to achieve a reasonable chance of victory.
If that was not enough, the Skog tribe had mastered a special technique during their long settlement — disguising themselves as southern people. They learned to speak Low Gothic and infiltrated the expeditionary forces to steal information and relay messages.
This forced Fugen to spend time purging his army. He first launched the Battle of the Lustria Isthmus, aimed at clearing the barbarian outposts in the forest.
This brutal war took place in the forest, where over 5,000 expeditionary troops clashed head-on with more than 8,000 barbarian forces.
Facing the barbarians' superior numbers, Fugen chose to proceed cautiously. He personally stood at the front lines, ordered his soldiers to build defensive works in a low-lying area, and gave up the high ground.
Seeing the expeditionary forces daring to build defenses in the lowlands, the barbarian raiders and their mounted warriors believed they would easily crush the defenders by charging downhill.
The first wave, consisting of 500 barbarian raiders and mounted warriors, quickly crumbled before Fugen's well-planned defenses. The dense rainforest hindered their charge, and a barrage of arrows decimated nearly all the barbarian soldiers.
The second wave, led by a Chaos Champion, saw the attackers launch a fierce assault with their berserker raiders and mounted warriors. They broke through the first line of defense, only to be met by pike and spear units and shield-bearers who launched a counterattack. Driven by Fugen's orders and inspired by his presence, the expeditionary soldiers relied on their tight formations and strict discipline to repel the barbarian raiders. The Chaos Champion was riddled with bullets from a hundred musket shots.
Hours passed as the noon battle dragged on, leaving both sides hungry and exhausted. Controlling the water sources in the lowlands gave the Ash Legion an edge. Realizing the dire situation, the barbarians received even worse news — Deputy Commander Pilazzo had led about 500 elite troops to cut off their retreat!
Everything went according to Fugen's plan, leaving the remaining Skog forces in a predicament.
In the third wave of attack, the Skog forces were forced to commit their main forces. Dozens of Chaos Knights led over 300 mounted raiders in a charge. The barbarian champions and Chaos warriors invoked the names of their dark gods, following a war mammoth adorned with an altar of evil gods to storm the defenses. Over 3,000 barbarian troops broke through the Ash Legion's three lines of defense in succession.
Despite heavy losses, the expeditionary forces steadfastly used cannons and muskets to take down the war mammoth. Following this, Fugen led the first company of the Ash Legion to completely shatter the barbarian assault.
This was the turning point of the war. With the war mammoth and its Chaos Champion down, the Skog forces fell into disarray. The morale of the barbarian army plummeted, leading many minor chieftains to withdraw from the battlefield. Some scattered Chaos Knights attempted to bypass the defenses and attack the Ash Legion's flanks, only to be repelled by Fugen's prepared reserves.
Meanwhile, Pilazzo's elite forces had successfully flanked the barbarians, leading to a total collapse under the two-pronged assault. The Skog chieftain, Rosteringer-Kur, in a desperate act, sacrificed to summon a Chaos Daemon, hoping to turn the tide. However, his confidence was shattered as the Daemon lasted only seven rounds against Fugen before being banished.
In the end, Rosteringer-Kur managed to escape with just a handful of followers.
The battle, which began at 10 a.m., ended by 4 p.m. The Ash Legion decimated over 5,000 enemies while losing just over 1,200 of their own.
After this fierce encounter, the battered Skog forces retreated entirely from the forest. However, Fugen, considering his losses, decided against pursuing the barbarian lands further. Instead, he sought contact with the Old World and successfully convinced many nobles from Estalia and various Tyrrell city-states to organize three more waves of expeditions to Lustria. Using his charisma and promises of gold, silver, and honor, Fugen easily brought these troops under his command and established a stable recruitment base in Milagleno, Tyrrell.
The mercenary commanders watched helplessly as their men were swayed by Fugen's charisma and grand ideals. Their attempts to obstruct were met with defections, and assassination attempts were foiled by agents who also defected. A noble from Tyrrell even sent his son to kill Fugen, only for the son to return, singing praises of surrender and declaring his loyalty to Fugen, willing to forsake his noble status to become a recruit.
"Commander Fugen asked me to give you a message..."
The noble was so enraged that he hanged himself in his room with a belt.
With a series of reinforcements, the Ash Legion grew to about 20,000 strong, establishing numerous towns along the Lustria coast, settling there, and continuing to honor their alliance with Mazdamundi, advancing against all Skog territories.
"Commander? Are you listening?" Pilazzo's words pulled Fugen from his thoughts. The Primarch of the Emperor's Children nodded calmly. "Yes, I am. This is indeed a remarkable victory, Fernando. But this is just the beginning."
"Indeed
, this is just the beginning," Fernando agreed, filled with boundless excitement and pride. The bright sunlight bathed the old mercenary leader, making him feel a sense of honor and faith he had never known. "Look, Commander, the soldiers are cheering."
From the forest to the beach, from the ruins to the high platforms, the expeditionary soldiers cheered loudly, chanting Fugen's name. Their admiration for the Commander knew no bounds. As long as Fugen led, they never faced defeat. The soldiers worshipped him, adored him, and mimicked his every move.
So handsome, so powerful, so wise, like a god.
War truly was the best way to build prestige, Fugen thought. As these thoughts crossed his mind, he nodded calmly and raised his hand. After the thunderous cheers subsided, the Commander ordered the troops to clean the battlefield, clear the ruins left by the barbarians, collect spoils, calculate rewards, and honor the soldiers who had distinguished themselves in battle.
Fugen did not feel overly jubilant. He knew this was just the start of his journey. From Ryan, he had learned of the imminent Skaven invasion of Lustria. From Mazdamundi and Warlord Kroq-Gar, he understood the Skaven's tenacity and strength.
All these would be stepping stones on Fugen's path to reclaim his former glory.
Returning alone to his large tent, Fugen found someone waiting for him. Seeing the visitor, a smile appeared on his face. "What news do you bring this time, Mr. Hadrian?"
Hadrian, the president of the Luigi Merchant Guild, was undoubtedly sent by Ryan. He had effectively completed his mission — organizing the new expeditionary reinforcements and using his connections to help Fugen acquire more cannons and muskets.
"Good news and bad news, Commander Fugen. Which would you like to hear first?" Hadrian looked pale and unhealthy, a testament to the rigors of long sea voyages. However, his spirits were high, likely due to the immense profits from his voyages.
And he wondered, why were Ryan's brothers all so tall? Angron stood nearly three meters tall, and Fugen here was over two meters high.
"Bad news?"
"The bad news is that I struggled to find even two engineers for you. They can only produce the most basic cannons and mortars," Hadrian said, shaking his head. "Despite the generous pay, few are willing to take such risks. Honestly, without Lord Ryan's guarantee, I wouldn't have taken months to sail here myself."
Two engineers were just acceptable to Fugen. "And the good news?"
"The good news is that five Tyrrell dwarf craftsmen have agreed to come here and work for you," Hadrian smiled. "As long as you can satisfy their thirst for gold, they are willing to serve you."
"Excellent." Pleased with the answer, Fugen retrieved a formal document from beneath the table. "Here is your reward, Mr. Hadrian."
A document? What could it be? Puzzled, Hadrian took the finely crafted parchment. It was written in High Gothic, titled "Roving Trader Trade Permit."
The signature at the bottom was Fugen's.
Does this mean anything to me? Hadrian mused inwardly. Still, he accepted the trade permit with a smile, promising to treasure it.
Maybe it will come in handy?
After Hadrian left, the tent glowed with golden light. Endless power filled the space as golden shadows began to manifest.
"You have done well, Fugen."
"Father!"
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