Chapter Eighty-Four: Battle to the Death

Without any probing or hesitation, the first wave of the Odinmen's attack struck like a heavy fist! After a deep blast of the war horn, swathes of Odin warriors surged forward, wielding shields, axes, broadswords, greatswords, and all sorts of weapons, their shields raised high as they bellowed and charged. When that dense mass of humanity began to surge, it poured forth like scattered beans tumbling down!

Shaya gripped his axe tightly. Amidst the cacophony, he could distinctly hear the pounding of his own heartbeat. At that moment, the nearby Slate, the battalion officer, shouted commands in his booming voice.

“Prepare! Archers ready! Take up your weapons! Don’t panic! Stand firm! Maintain formation!”

With no experience in command, Shaya left this to Slate. Though he was not a particularly outstanding officer, Slate performed admirably. His face flushed with anxiety, yet his voice struggled to remain composed.

The earth trembled beneath countless footsteps, clouds of dust rising as the dark mass of Odinmen quickly closed in, entering range of the defenses...

“Release!!”

Slate roared, and behind the palisade, three ballistae unleashed dozens of bolts in furious succession. Metal bolts as thick as a grown man’s arm screamed through the air, forming a parabolic umbrella over the Odinmen’s heads.

On the battlefield, the sound of flesh being pierced echoed—deep, dreadful, and muffled. Blood splattered everywhere, mingling with agonized screams of the wounded and dying. Ballista bolts, far more powerful than ordinary arrows, tore effortlessly through bodies, sometimes passing through three or five men before losing momentum.

The archers behind the palisade received their orders as well. Hundreds of arrows in the first volley swept through the charging ranks like a tempest, felling a swathe of Odinmen.

Yet, amid the cries and howls, the Odinmen’s advance was unbroken. They shouted with even greater ferocity and zeal, pressing forward.

Soon, the first wave reached the palisade. They hurled themselves against it with their bodies. Though the wall had been reinforced with stones gathered by the logistics team and dismantled cart wood, the initial collision still made it shudder visibly, causing the Byzantine warriors hidden behind it to tremble in their hearts. At the officers’ command, a row of sharp spears thrust out through the gaps in the palisade, stabbing into the mass of Odinmen, impaling hundreds with ease. Some dying yet savage Odinmen grabbed the spears lodged in their bodies, yanked with desperate strength, and wrenched them out from behind the wall.

Hundreds of Odin brutes formed a dozen squads, sprinting in the midst of the assault formation. To maintain their speed, they wore no metal armor and carried no weapons, their bodies nearly bare. Ten to a team, they carried freshly sawn logs fashioned into ladders, charging madly toward the fence amidst wild shouts. Shielded by their compatriots, most of the ladder teams reached the palisade. Ladders were quickly raised, while nearby Odinmen screamed their war cries, scrambling up the rungs and pouring into the palisade.

Spears stabbed out again and again, knocking Odinmen off the ladders, toppling them. The Odinmen, crazed, crashed forward, using their bodies as shields to withstand the spears. Again and again, they raised the ladders, risking their lives to continue the assault.

Red.

The battlefield was awash in red! Layers of corpses piled up before the palisade, their blood turning the ground to mud. The Byzantine warriors stood behind the wall, atop platforms, stabbing and hacking downward with swords, desperately resisting, yet unable to stem the suicidal onslaught. Some Odinmen climbed the palisade, flung themselves down with arms outstretched, facing the Byzantine swords, using their bodies to knock down defenders and buy time for their comrades.

Other Odinmen abandoned the ladders entirely, gathering behind the palisade, using their own bodies as human steps for their comrades to clamber over the wall, letting spears pierce their chests. Some also stabbed their swords and knives through the gaps in the palisade, exchanging life for life.

The palisade, barely two meters tall, proved far too frail to offer real defense.

The archers had already spread out along the line, picking off Odinmen one by one. Shaya’s eyes blazed red; he hefted his battle axe, leading a dozen of the most skilled warriors, dashing back and forth behind the wall. Whenever the Odinmen breached a section, he was first to rush in, his axe flashing coldly, crushing the enemy.

The real danger emerged at the camp gate!

That was where the Odinmen focused their main assault. The gate had originally been fortified with two rows of sharpened stakes, densely packed and driven deep into the ground, their points raised high. At least two hundred corpses had fallen there. Despite the arrows and spears hurled by the Byzantines behind the gate, the Odinmen chopped the stakes down one by one, clearing a patch of ground.

Dozens of Odin warriors, clutching felled tree trunks, charged madly at the gate, repeatedly battering it.

The reinforced doors shuddered with each blow, dust falling from the sides. Warriors behind raised swords and stabbed fiercely; some had their weapons seized by Odinmen, dragged out screaming.

Among the attackers was a squad wielding long spears, fashioned by sharpening freshly cut tree trunks, three or four meters long. The Odinmen thrust these upward at the Byzantines behind the gate, inflicting casualties. Even Slate was struck, his shoulder armor shattered by a spear, half his body drenched in blood.

The camp gate, barely ten meters wide, began to crack under the relentless assault. The sound chilled the hearts of the Byzantine soldiers; with every thunderous impact, their spirits quaked under the Odinmen’s furious roars.

With a wild shout, Shaya rushed to the gate. He had discarded his axe, now wielding a mace. He watched as a Byzantine soldier on a platform behind the gate was skewered by a spear from outside, blood spraying as he fell. Shaya’s eyes blazed red; with a roar, he leapt!

His formidable physique propelled him over three meters high, vaulting straight over the gate!

Outside, dozens of corpses littered the ground. Shaya raised his mace before his face, then spread his arms wide, hurling his body into the Odinmen’s spears and axes. Amidst a chorus of sharp cracks, countless spears and axes were smashed by his blows. Landing among the crowd, Shaya rolled, swung his mace in a wide arc, shattering the legs of several Odinmen nearby. Severed limbs flew through the air; Shaya jumped up and drew his fire fork from his belt!

Before the earthbound Odinmen, he seemed so fragile: his fire fork easily sliced through their weapons, then the mace crashed onto their bodies. Heads, shoulders, chests—each strike brought the sound of breaking bones!

In barely a few breaths, no one was left standing around Shaya. He seized an Odinman, kicked him over, planted his foot on the man’s chest, grabbed his arm, and with a furious roar, tore him in half! Hot blood sprayed over Shaya’s face. He hurled the mangled corpse away, then smashed his mace into the densest knot of Odinmen ahead... In that instant, his eyes blazed red, unleashing his crimson battle aura!

Boom!

The mace struck the crowd, infused with crimson power, pulverizing three Odinmen instantly! Broken bones scattered, and the force sent seven or eight more flying in all directions, dead before they hit the ground.

Eyes red, Shaya watched more Odinmen rushing at him. He laughed wildly, snatched up an abandoned axe, felled two of the foremost attackers, leapt, and sprang back through the gate...

Shaya’s near-superhuman prowess ignited the courage of the Byzantine soldiers. All around, their wild shouts rang out. They fought desperately, felling Odinmen one by one, knocking down ladders. Some even emulated Shaya, vaulting over the palisade to face the enemy blades head-on. Even at the moment of death, they made sure to drive their weapons into the nearest foe!

In the distance, Hasting, wrapped in black robes, watched the slaughter at the gate with his narrow, sinister eyes. He saw Shaya leap out like a beast, cut down countless Odinmen, smash limbs with his mace, jump back behind the gate, and witnessed the Byzantines’ morale soaring ever higher...

The Odin War God’s lips curled suddenly. He turned, snatched a long spear from a nearby Odin warrior, stepped back twice, and hurled it with all his might...

Shaya suddenly heard a shrill whistle in the sky! It sounded like thunder in midsummer. He looked up and saw a flash of light descending, tracing a parabolic arc that seemed to split the sky, like a bolt of lightning!

The light’s target was the camp gate!

Shaya roared, his eyes instantly blazing red, crimson battle aura enveloping his body. With a shout, he grabbed a shield, leapt madly into the air, and met the descending light head-on!