novelODS Chapter 216 Dawn Raid
Chapter 216 Dawn Raid
Chapter 217 Dawn Raid
The darkness is deepest before dawn.
It was as if the whole world had been soaked in thick ink.
The mountain wind howled as it swept through the bare branches and cracks in the rocks, bringing with it the stench of strong liquor, vomit, and horse manure that permeated the Kuman camp.
The ruins of Zimberg Castle resemble the skeleton of a giant beast ravaged by time and war, perched atop the hill, with its broken towers like broken ribs stubbornly piercing the dark blue sky.
A few campfires flickered among the broken walls and ruins, illuminating the distorted faces of the Cuman sentries, worn out by fatigue.
Wrapped in filthy furs, they leaned against the still-intact stone wall, spears in hand, completely unaware of the impending danger.
In a dense hazel forest halfway up the mountain, the members of the Silver Dawn Knights gathered like ghosts.
Peter unfolded the parchment map on a relatively flat bluestone, a map of the castle's terrain drawn with slightly rough charcoal lines.
That was the result of Henry and the Flower Bud Knight's previous investigation.
"Please take a look, everyone."
Peter's voice was deep and clear, yet remarkably penetrating in the silent woods: "Sir Flowerbud's brother is trapped inside; our plans need to be adjusted."
The young servant Chris held up a specially made blackout candle, the lampshade of which was carefully designed to only project light downwards.
The group formed a tight circle, using cloaks and robes to strictly block the light from entering the area outlined on the map. From a distance, the forest remained completely dark, as if no one had ever set foot there.
The knights listened attentively to Peter's explanation, secretly marveling at the military talent displayed by the young prince.
His long, slender fingers moved precisely across the map, outlining the attack routes and tactical points, as if this were not a dangerous raid, but a well-rehearsed game of chess.
"Black face, white hair!" Peter's gaze fell on the two men in the shadows.
"Yes, Your Highness!"
The cautious swordsmanship master, Black Bartosh, took a half-step forward; while the assassination master, Robert, almost completely blended into the shadows of the trees.
"Take four skilled men and infiltrate through the drainage tunnel in the southeast corner."
Peter tapped the bottom right corner of the map lightly. "Sir Flowerbud has confirmed that the area is still passable. Your mission is to find and rescue the hostages, 'Bonebreaker' Knight. Clear out any sentries along the way, and do so discreetly."
"Yes, Your Highness!" Blackbatos replied in a deep voice, his hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword.
Robert didn't speak, but nodded slightly again, the dagger at his waist gleaming in the shadows.
"Sir Flowerbud, you will travel with them." Peter turned to the anxious knight. "We need your familiarity with the terrain to guide us."
Flower Bud nodded emphatically, gripped the sword hilt tightly with excitement, and bowed, saying, "I am deeply grateful, Prince Brunswick. The Engelsberg family will forever remember your kindness, and may God bless you."
"I promised you." Peter patted his shoulder, the force firm yet warm, then his expression turned serious, his gaze sweeping over everyone like a torch.
"Cold-blooded!"
Eric, the valiant swordsman, stepped forward in response, his massive body almost completely blocking out all the light leaking through the gaps.
Those eyes gleamed with a fanatical desire to achieve success, like a hungry beast smelling blood.
"Take eight brothers and attack from the west side through the breached wall," Peter instructed. "Make a scene of chaos, a great commotion, kill and set fires to draw their main force away."
Eric grinned, revealing a cruel smile: "Understood, Your Highness. I will make those Cuman bastards think that the gates of hell have been opened to them."
He stretched his neck, his knuckles cracking slightly, and the two swords on his back gleamed coldly in the candlelight.
"Drunkard, you lead eight members of the Knights. Once Eric's forces are drawn away, immediately launch a surprise attack from the eastern ruins."
.
Peter traced an arc on the map with his finger.
"Drive it in like a wedge, seize the high ground in the central courtyard, and support it with crossbows."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Hynik touched his sword and shield, his eyes, which were slightly cloudy from years of drinking, were unusually clear at this moment.
Peter turned to Kubinka, the renowned archer who was already eager to get started: "Musketeers, I want to see the power of the best archer north of the Alps. Take two men and patrol the perimeter, clear out any stragglers that might try to escape, don't let a single one get away."
"Don't worry, Your Highness, not even a frightened mouse will escape."
Kubinka patted his chest and assured him. The archer Mark unconsciously touched the elm longbow on his back, eager to try it out.
"And what about us, Your Highness!"
The Demon Arrow Karel chanted incantations, gesturing strangely towards the moon, "The night guides us, ancient spirits whisper in the ruins, they will stand by our side—"
Michael rubbed his forehead and sighed softly, "Please, Magic Arrow, we're at war, not listening to your ghost stories. Your Highness, please assign us tasks, even something as simple as stealing their saddles!"
Peter couldn't help but laugh, "Don't rush, you'll have your chance to show your abilities. Michael, you take five men to control the Cumans' horses. I don't need to explain the specifics, do I?"
"Hehehe, of course. We're seasoned horse thieves."
Michael and the gambling addict Zwick chuckled softly, their laughter tinged with professional pride.
Finally, Peter looked at the restless Henry, the excited Chris, the silent tower-like Mueller, and the female knight Brienne.
Brienne adjusted her helmet, her azure eyes shining brightly in the shadows. She subtly adjusted the position of the sword at her waist, ensuring she could draw it immediately.
"As for the rest of you, follow me and attack from the front."
Peter sneered, "Let these Cumans taste whether our swords are sharp or not."
Henry immediately drew his longsword, the blade slicing a silver arc in the darkness; Chris was even more excited, almost jumping up;
Muller held his two broadswords in front of him, his posture resembling that of a statue of a war god.
Before the operation began, Peter took out thirty-two bottles of Nightingale Potion from his storage compartment.
These potions gleamed eerily in the moonlight; they were exquisite creations he had casually made while concocting healing potions at the griffin camp.
"God blesses everyone, but he especially loves me."
Peter distributed the Nightingale Potion to everyone, one bottle for each person, without favoritism. "I am sharing this blessing with you all. The effects may differ, but don't be alarmed. Whatever you feel is normal."
The group drank the potion as instructed. The effect was immediate; those knights who had activated their character panels were essentially semi-digitalized, and after drinking the item given by Peter, they immediately gained very noticeable special effects.
Their eyes were like those of nightingales, making the pitch-black night as bright as dusk, and every detail in the ruins was clearly visible.
Suppressed gasps echoed softly through the woods as everyone thanked Peter for his blessing.
However, after drinking it, the drunkard Hynick and the flower bud jazz only felt a slight coolness in their eyes, and the visual effect was far from obvious.
Henry was slightly better than the other two, but only slightly. The three looked at each other and sighed helplessly.
"Is this God's favoritism? It seems like he's showing a bit too much favoritism."
Hynik muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes which still couldn't see the darkness clearly.
With everything ready, the group, with their clearly defined roles, began to operate like precise gears.
Eric's team members tied dry bundles of firewood to their leather armor;
Hynek's team examined the fletching of every single arrow;
Black Bartosh and Robert's squad coated their weapons with dark mud to prevent them from reflecting light;
Michael's team had prepared daggers to cut the reins and hay to soothe the horses.
"action!"
At Peter's command, the group vanished silently into the woods like leopards blending into the night.
Using the weeds and broken walls as cover, they crept towards their respective targets, their footsteps as light as falling leaves touching the ground.
Peter, accompanied by Brienne's guards, infiltrated a patch of waist-high weeds outside the ruins of the main gate.
The night wind seeped through the gaps in the plate armor, bringing a biting chill. The air was filled with the smells of earth, decaying vegetation, and the distinctive muttony odor of a Cuman campfire drifting from afar.
Time ticked by, each second stretching like a spider's thread. Peter could feel the taut muscles and racing hearts of the warriors behind him, but no one uttered a sound. This was the discipline of the Silver Dawn Knights, he thought proudly.
Suddenly, a faint light rose on the east side, then went out—the pre-arranged signal that the infiltration team was in position.
Immediately afterwards, a deafening battle cry erupted from the west! Eric's team ignited the oil they carried, and orange flames shot up, illuminating the frantically dancing figures.
Accompanied by deliberately amplified battle cries and the booming of weapons clashing against shields, it sounded as if dozens of people were launching a fierce attack.
Eric's gruff voice rang out sharply in the night sky: "For the Silver Dawn! Slaughter these bastards!"
The Cumans inside the ruins erupted like a hornet's nest that had been stirred up, creating a cacophony of shouts, commands, and chaotic footsteps.
From Peter's position, one could clearly see countless dark figures rushing out of the ruined rooms and gathering towards the west.
Just then, Hynik's team swooped in from the east, their movements swift and precise. Like ghosts, they moved through the ruins and quickly seized the high ground of the central castle ruins.
As many Cumans rushed out of the room, before they could even determine their direction, they were struck by precise arrows. The arrows flying from the darkness caught them off guard, and screams of agony filled the air.
Meanwhile, Black Bartosh and Robert's squad were carrying out their silent mission. Sir Flowerbud guided them through narrow, damp passages covered in moss and cobwebs. The stench of decay filled the drainage ditch, and the mud beneath their feet was slick, but no one complained.
Robert moved like a shadow at the head of the column, and each brief pause marked the end of a Cuman sentry.
His dagger sliced precisely across the throat, ensuring the victim couldn't even utter a groan.
Black Bartosh was responsible for eliminating the more difficult targets, his longsword dancing in the darkness, creating a subtle whistling sound.
"Going down ahead leads to the old castle's cellars."
Flower Bud lowered her voice and pointed to a downward stone staircase, "My brother is very likely locked inside."
Just as they were preparing to act, the shouts of battle outside reached their climax. The Cuman soldiers guarding the entrance to the cellar exchanged glances and finally could not restrain themselves any longer, so they ran to the west.
"Chance!"
"Black Bartosh said in a low voice."
They quickly entered the dilapidated underground arcade, where the torchlight cast flickering shadows on the damp walls.
In the deepest cell, they saw a blond young man with his hands tied behind his back.
The man was dressed in rags, his face bruised, but his eyes still shone with an indomitable light; it was none other than Jazz Bone-Pulling.
"younger brother!"
Flower Bud immediately rushed forward and cut the rope with her dagger.
"elder brother!"
Che Gu weakly hugged him, her voice trembling with excitement.
"You two evacuate first. We need to support His Highness as planned!"
"Heibatosh said, his eyes scanning his surroundings warily.
"Thank you so much for your help, please let me join the fight!"
Sir Flower Bud quickly said.
"Yes, please give me a weapon too, I can join the fight!"
The Bone-Pulling Knight stood up straight, not to be outdone, even though his legs were still trembling slightly.
Black Bartosh hesitated for a moment, then nodded: "Alright!" He handed the Bone-Pulling Knight a longsword.
"For the Silver Dawn!"
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