Volume II: The Iron-Blood Baron - Chapter 146: The Battle of Norlandenburg (Part 20)

Standing atop the ramparts of the wooden fortress, Asedan watched as Barin rallied his men, a cold smile playing on his lips. Turning to the pirate chieftain beside him, he remarked, "Look at that, the leader of these Burick men bears a striking resemblance to Ol. He too can lift the morale of panicked men surrounded on all sides in just a few words and whip them into a fighting frenzy. Truly a remarkable talent."

"Hmph! He may have some tricks up his sleeve, but he is nothing more than a despicable scoundrel, relying solely on harassment and underhanded ambushes to endlessly plague us," one chieftain said bitterly.

"Hahahaha! Their methods may be dishonorable, but as long as they get the job done, that is all that matters. War is a matter of life and death, and any means are understandable. We shall make good use of these tactics ourselves when we deal with the southern Burick folk and the people of Newar in the future," another pirate chieftain offered a different perspective.

The first chieftain let out another cold snort, then retorted sarcastically, "Oh, is that so? Such a vile and shameless tactic will surely never win the blessings of the God of the Sea and the Goddess of the Sea. By all means, go right ahead and use it."

Seeing that a heated argument was about to break out between them, Asedan barked angrily, "What are you squabbling about here? If you have so much energy, go out and slaughter a few more Burick men instead of droning on in my presence like a pair of nagging hags. What kind of behavior is that!"

Chided thus by the Wolf Lord Asedan, the two pirate chieftains exchanged resentful glances, then turned their faces away in unison, looking silently out beyond the wooden fortress. By this time, Barin had finished his pep talk and was issuing his final orders for the charge.

A moment later, they saw the mass of Burick men below roar and hurl themselves at the surrounding Toba pirates.

"Charge!" Barin bellowed, leading his men into the encirclement in a wedge formation, right at the tip of which were Barin and his most elite soldiers.

Barin knew that without bringing their absolute best to stun the enemy in a single blow, they could never hope to rapidly tear open the perimeter. For his men to escape with their lives was an absolute impossibility; holding back even a shred of strength in the opening clash would mean total annihilation for them all.

The pirates had resolved to claim the lives of a few Norlanden soldiers, and they readied their bows as Barin's men charged. The distance was well within range for a volley. Against nocturnal raiders like Barin and his men, who wore no shields and only light leather armor, had the pirates deployed even twenty archers within a hundred paces to loose a single volley, at least half of Barin's force would likely have been wiped out on the spot.

Covering the space of several dozen paces at a dead sprint took mere breaths. Barin soon crossed blades with a massively built pirate. The pirate raised his shield to parry the downward arc of Barin's blade, while simultaneously sweeping his battleaxe horizontally, aiming to cut Barin cleanly in half at the waist.

Barin's martial prowess could be called formidable, but his older brother Barin's skills were even greater, for Barrett had learned everything he knew from Barin. Yet because Barrett was physically stronger, he relied more on raw power and brute force in combat, lacking subtle technical variations. Though he had employed some technique in slaying the pirate chieftain Ol, that was mainly to end the fight swiftly.

While Barin was not as towering or heavily muscled, his strength was considerable, and he relied primarily on technique to kill. Among the fighters in Norlanden, if Iomer ranked first, Barin was unquestionably second.

Seeing the pirate's sweeping battleaxe coming toward him, Barin sprang instantly into the air, leaping more than two feet off the ground. He drove his empty left fist forward in a savage blow aimed right between the pirate's jaw and his ear, knocking the towering, burly pirate unconscious on the spot. Without missing a beat, a soldier directly behind Barin lunged forward and delivered a swift coup de grâce, ending the pirate's life.

The sight left the surrounding pirates utterly stunned. The men positioned at the very front were acknowledged champions among them—if not one in a hundred, they were certainly elite fighters chosen from every ten. To witness one cut down in the blink of an eye during their very first exchange was deeply terrifying.

Yet, far from feeling fear, the pirates grew intensely excited. Trained in combat from early childhood, they were thoroughly imbued with a fierce love of battle and took pride in defeating mighty foes. Seeing an adversary as formidable as Barin only stirred their eagerness; each of them burned to be the first to slay this Burick leader and prove their own valor.

Having cut down the first pirate blocking his path, Barin struck down two more. Though he managed to advance his detachment a few paces, the sea of surrounding pirates only grew denser, steadily closing in from all flanks.

Positioned near the center-rear of the wedge formation, the reconnaissance fighters—whose combat capabilities were relatively weaker—had also engaged the surrounding pirates, and casualties were beginning to mount. There was no time to tally the losses; Barin watched with mounting anxiety as the tide of pirates surged forward, slashing wildly and desperately with his blade. The elite warriors closely trailing him fought with desperate ferocity to shield their commander and assist in parrying the oncoming blows.

At this point, Barin had abandoned all hope of leading the majority of his men out. As long as he and the few elite guards around him could break through the perimeter, they would take whatever survivors they could. Though the losses would be heavy, as long as these core reconnaissance veterans survived, the scouting corps of the Norlanden Infantry Regiment that he had labored so hard to build would not be entirely wiped out.

Charging ever forward amid unyielding slaughter, the men positioned in the rear of Barin's wedge formation dwindled rapidly, and the elite guard around him suffered casualties as well. The surviving scouts were now completely drenched in blood—whether their own or the pirates' was impossible to tell, though it was surely a mixture of both.

Barin's weapon had also been replaced; his steel saber had been knocked from his grip when a massively strong pirate smashed it away with a heavy warhammer. Numb with pain through the web of his right hand, Barin endured the agony, blinded the pirate by jabbing his fingers into his eyes, and seized the dropped warhammer along with a round shield.

Using the warhammer to smash in the skull of its former owner, Barin began cutting a bloody path in all directions. Armed once again with a suitable weapon, Barin fought with such ferocity that the pirates standing in his way instinctively scrambled to dodge out of his path.

Just as Barin began to think that his warhammer might indeed allow him to break the encirclement, the sea of pirates before him suddenly parted. Two shirtless, brawny warriors—one wielding a warhammer, the other a battleaxe—stepped out to confront him.

At a single glance, the two figures radiated the terrifying aura of pure strength-type berserkers. Though Barin possessed great strength and a rich repertoire of combat techniques, facing both of these powerhouses simultaneously filled him with misgivings; he felt far from certain he could prevail. Yet, at such a critical juncture, Barin had no luxury of choice. As long as he could keep the two of them pinned down, his men might still find an opportunity to slip away.