Something23: It's not particularly original. You've never read Edgar Alan Poe's The Purloined Letter? The letter is actually hidden... in the middle of other letters. It is in full view that one hides the best. For the arrival of the second Isekai, he will arrive in the second part of the story.
Author's note: I have to do my mea culpa, I just realized that I made a mistake regarding the distances inside the Roble Kingdom. According to the map, Dagguerford is at least 1000 kilometers from the border of the Slane Theocracy... Miriel couldn't make the trip in three days. That said, in Overlord Season 4 Ainz goes even further north... to the dwarf kingdom... in just two days.
Goblins War
"Hurry! Who entrusted me with such slackers? Faster, we will never finish for dinner at this rate!"
Whatever the world, some things never change. The one who shouted like this was an obese man with a huge belly and little sullen fingers, his eyes sunk into greasy folds. This rich bourgeois of Targos was the foreman in charge of the timber crane that hoisted tree trunks at the top of the cliff that separated Targos (the city) from Targos (the river port).
And of course, the workers were ordinary citizens, but also mercenaries and drudgery adventurers.
The hysterical barking of the fat bourgeois obviously did not help in anything, but the 'chief' had to express his anger at being outside in the morning cold rather than in his cozy bed.
The last trunk finally arrived at the destination, and the team of workers began to push and to pull, by making them roll on the logs regularly arranged along the road. The work was hard... but the workers were motivated. First... they moved away from the fat bourgeois and his insults, then the trunks would be used to repair the palisade... the only obstacle between Targos and an army of goblins.
Nais Stonecarver was... a Dwarf.
This engineer had been hired by the Robble Holy Kingdom to work on the Great Wall, the huge fortification (somewhat the equivalent of the Great Wall of China) that separated the Kingdom from Abelion Hill. The Half-Human invasion had trapped the engineer in Targos, as he was returning home in the Azerlisia Mountain.
His presence was an opportunity. Without him, the city would have fallen long ago. Indeed, with only trees as construction material, the engineer had succeeded in creating an effective defensive network.
The people of Targos spoke of it as a palisade, but they knew nothing about the art of fortification. Stonecarver had built a 'wooden wall' a more sophisticated version of this crude defense. Preceded by a ditch filled with sharp stakes, the bulwark was made of two trunk walls separated by a space filled with earth. This earth absorbs shocks, making the wall almost invulnerable to siege rams. The top of the rampart was a crenelated walkway dominated by shooting platforms. Pikes fanned out just under the chemin-de-ronde preventing siege ladders from being erected against the wall.
In addition, the wall's outer surface was covered with regularly moistened mud... prohibiting the burning of the rampart (1).
"Heave away boys!"
The order was addressed to a group of workers installed on the ramparts. With ropes, they lifted the end of one of the trunks that had just been brought from the port. Another group held the trunk at the base. When the trunk was high enough, a third group used a long pole ending in a kind of fork to keep the cut tree straight. The combined efforts of the teams of workers were crowned with success. With thick ropes, they linked the long piece of wood to its neighbors to hold it in place.
"You deserve a little break!"
As Nais Stonecarver moved away to encourage another group of workers who were bringing in another cut tree, Khalid Deez and Leyen Aristeia sat on the ground drinking a few sips of water from a shin that a child was carrying.
Khalid was breathless and sweaty. He looked up.
"Why do I always have to lift heavy stuff? The girls got a job that was much less painful. What about gender equality? "
He turned to Leyen, but the blond elf replied with a slightly tense smile. He hardly ever spoke...
On the outskirts of Targos, among the houses burned by the first attacks of goblins, a large circular tent, the shape and size of a circus big top, had been erected.
But the place was not festive. Straw beds and stretchers lined up on the cold ground were occupied by a crowd of wounded. One heard moans, rales, and pathetic calls, a smell of blood in this military hospital.
Circulating between the beds, Antilene Hera Fouche and Altiria Siina Verteil stopped briefly to examine each wounded.
"Cure Light Wound."
"Poison Slowing."
"Healing Diseases."
"Cure Serious Wounds."
The only difference between the two priestesses is that Antilene (servant of the god of death) had a scowling expression... while Altiria smiled and always had some kind words for the patient she was examining.
The office of Baron Marcus Aquaire Breval was only lit by the fire of the fireplace; Breval and his wife were sitting, attentive, looking at the crystal ball placed on a copper ring that was on the desk.
Miriel was a little nervous.
"Especially do not expect a miracle from me... It is not my specialty."
Divination was a form of magic in OOO. This school had some useful spells like "Vision of the Invisible" or "Detection of Evil" but... for the most part... the Developers had not even tried to make it a viable field. Very few players had specialized in this school and all had regretted it.
Nevertheless, during some scripted events NPC had used crystal balls to view distant events.
For Roleplay's reasons, Miriel always had a crystal ball (and other magical instruments) in her inventory. It was a good time to check if, in the real world, she could use it... otherwise... well she would have made a fool of herself before the local lord. The man who paid for her service in the Targos militia...
With her hands forming a bowl around the crystal ball, Miriel focused, and blurred shapes began to appear.
The baron startled and was now leaning avidly. He was the first to recognize the long crenelated stone walls flanked by defensive towers that eventually appeared.
"It's the Great Wall."
He nodded. The soldiers on patrol wore a white tabard and Robble's white and blue banner floated up the towers.
"Everything seems quiet, I guess that means the Half-Humans have not yet attacked the wall and..."
It stopped because the image had just disappeared, replaced by a swirl of blue and pink color. A new image was formed. This time it was a wooden bridge with a wide deck. Creatures in armor with green skin and porcine features had settled there. They built barricades and rolled heavy barrels.
"Orcs!"
Baron Breval frowned, then nodded.
"I recognize this place. It is the Shulayen Bridge, south of here. It is the only place to cross the river downstream from Daggerford."
Miriel nodded, she remembered passing under a bridge during her journey on the river. Fortunately, the orcs had not yet arrived, because it was the ideal place to block the river.
Marcus Aquaire Breval had remained for a few moments without speaking. He spoke again in a thoughtful tone.
"And the Demi-Humans began to fortify the bridge. This is very bad news... because it's the shortest route between Targos and Daggerford. Reinforcements will lose several days by tracing the west shore."
His wife kept looking at the picture.
"I worry even more about the contents of these barrels."
Although still focused on the crystal ball, Miriel spoke.
"Maybe they contain intense fire oil... or another way to sabotage the bridge."
The lord of Targos agreed.
"Yes, it is possible. If they defend the bridge rather than destroy it, it is probably because they want to use it for their offensive... but if they were to lose control of this strategic crossing point they would be ready to sabotage it. Yes, this reasoning does hold water."
He was about to say something else, but Miriel leaned against the back of her chair, her face pale and her hands trembling. In the crystal ball, the images disappeared.
"Rest a moment, damsel... I did not realize that it was so exhausting."
Massaging her face, the Wizard smiled briefly.
"I told you, it's not my specialty..."
As the half-elf accepted a cup of tea from the baron's wife, she turned to him.
"My lord, there is one thing I do not understand. Could you explain to me where these orcs and goblins come from? They didn't cross the wall, but they're here, I don't understand."
The baron exchanged a mocking glance with his wife.
"The question that annoys anyone in this country... In fact, this is the whole Roble Kingdom story you're asking me to tell you. To begin with, what do you know about the Holy Kingdom?"
"Almost nothing, I confess, my lord."
"Roble is actually a confederation. There used to be two kingdoms. An ancestor of the current queen guided both kingdoms as they were invaded by a coalition of Demi-Humans. But still today, the north and south of Robble are two countries with very different cultures. The first king of the Holy Kingdom undertook to build the Great Wall. The result is gigantic - 1000 km - but extends only along Abelion Hill to the border of the Slane Theocracy. North... here..." He pointed to the ground with his finger "there's nothing."
"And this is one of the reasons for the enmity between the inhabitants of the North and the inhabitants of the South" specified his wife.
"But why didn't they extend the wall further north... "
"Well, a lot of agitators in the North say it's because the lives of northerners don't matter to those in the South... but the real reason is much simpler. The cost of building and maintaining the Great Wall is enormous. Since the Demi-Humans live in Abelion Hill, extending the wall further north would be a waste. Moreover, as long as the Demi-Humans have been divided into countless hostile tribes, the wall has played its part."
Miriel nodded her head.
Of course, if warriors from a tribe from the center of the Abelions Hill wanted to attack Targos, they would first have to cross the territories of dozens of hostile tribes.
"But the Demonic Emperor Jaddabaoth united all the tribes of Demi-Humans into one confederation," the Summoner concluded.
"There you go."
The baron breathed in.
"I would now like you to show me the troops surrounding us."
Miriel focused on the crystal ball but felt something that looked like an itch. Was it something the baron said? No, not exactly... something that had been said in the conversation that reminded her of something read or heard elsewhere... It was important... but it was just an impression. It annoyed her but the half-elf could not really pinpoint the source of her uneasiness (2).
Except it was no use getting sick with unanswered questions. Anyway, she was stuck here... even by a sudden and brilliant intuition, she was able to understand the entire campaign plan of Jaddabaoth, she couldn't warn Queen Calca Bessarez.
She focused on the crystal ball...
The forest around Targos had been cut by the defenders, as much provided wood for the construction of the wall surrounding the city as to clear the surroundings and discern the movements of the goblins.
Amidst the stumps that emerged from the mud trampled by thousands of feet, humanoids clung around their shamans. The medicine men danced among the circles formed by warriors who punctuated their grotesque contortions by knocking their coarse weapons against their shields.
In her crystal ball, Miriel saw the scene without hearing the noises, but she easily imagined the dreadful sound: tam-tams and flutes mingled with the sound of knights' helmets used as percussion instruments by goblins who must have dreamed of playing in a hard rock band.
The shamans, in the midst of hysteria, froze, drooling on the lips, having received a vision from their god. They wore fur robes adorned with bones, feathers, and skulls of small animals and had their faces hidden behind hideous masks.
The Grand Shaman stood squatting in a dirty fur nest on a shaky tower of trunks attached by vegetal ties. He was an old goblin with a painted face, wearing a wolf-skin cape, and a wolf skull covering his head.
He suddenly stood up and began to howl, foaming.
In view of the hateful cries that answered him and the goblin warriors who were brandishing their weapons, he probably had not just issued an invitation for the 5-hour tea party.
In an alley near the manor, Diolaine Gisle Kuri stopped to listen to footsteps and the clicking of chainmail that came closer... then she leaned against a wall.
Like all the adventurers who arrived with Miriel, she now used her gifts in the city...
Except that...
A guard patrol with the white tabard of the Robble Holy Kingdom passed without seeing her.
Except that Diolaine had just used her 'Hide in Shadow' skill to avoid a patrol... scouring the city in search of idle citizens to put to work.
Well, you did not think that Diolaine had chosen the career 'thief' because she wanted to make her living with an honest job?
The assault on Targos was imminent.
The goblins gathered just beyond bow reach. They were already two or three thousand, gathered around the totems of the different tribes participating in the siege.
The crowd of warriors made a terrifying spectacle. Their rusty weapons, their armors mixing corroded iron, rotten leather, dirty skins, furs, and bones gave them a barbaric and repugnant appearance. Some rode giant wolves with dark and bristling fur. They accompanied the screams of their masters with sinister howls.
Like a sea shaken by the storm, this crowd grew from several rivers of goblin warriors who poured out from the nearby camps abandoned by their garrisons.
More and more warriors were converging.
The later chronicles estimated that the goblin army was 7000 humanoids strong while Targos was only defended by 800 militiamen.
A tense silence reigned over Targos. The militiamen pressed against each other, instinctively seeking the proximity of their comrades. They trembled with fear and their faces gradually lost all color.
The two mangonels (3) of the Targos garrison who opened hostilities. The lookouts that dominated the outer defenses had established a series of landmarks. When a troop of goblins crossed those who reported that they were within range of the mangonels built by the defenders, they issued scoring instructions.
At their feet, the gunners pressed around, turning their war machine. Then, two big guys activated on the winch capstan to stretch the arm before lifting a stone ball covered with pitch and placing it in the spoon.
An officer carrying a torch set fire to the projectile, and then pulled a lever. Brutally released, the arm comes to hit the stop... and the flaming ball leaves the spoon. Its igneous trajectory passed over the rampart before falling back in the middle of a mass of goblins, crushing several small monsters, projecting around it stones, smoke, flames... it bounces, falls back further, bounces again... killing, injuring each time, sowing terror and disorganization.
The mercenary archers were veterans. They wore cloth armor under a steel chest. Helmets of various models: skull caps with nasal, burgonet, and chapel-de-fer protected their heads. Their yew bows, almost as big as them, were powerful, but not very precise... but they did not need precision, the enemy clumped into a mass of bodies that formed a single HUGE target.
"Ready to notch!"
The order had been shouted by an officer standing among the bowmen. He had drawn his sword and was looking at a lookout on one of the watchtowers. He raised a hand...
"Notch it up!"
Together, each archer raised his arm over his left shoulder to take an arrow from the quiver beating in their back. They placed it on the rope but remained the bow lowered... anxious. The following order was not long in coming:
"Ready for high-angle fire!"
They raised their bows almost vertically.
On the observation tower, the lookout had just lowered his arm. The officer turned to the mass of goblins running towards them. Some wore ladders, others pushed rams.
"Fire!"
The archers stretched out their bows in a great crackling and released the rope... within a few seconds hundreds of arrows lit out, leaping towards the sky before gravity did its work, driving down the projectiles to the ground. They fell vertically on the invaders. Less than half of the arrows killed or wounded goblins... the others fell harmlessly to the ground. However, even those failed shots were not completely useless, for they created obstacles, as did the dead and wounded who collapsed to the ground.
The goblin assault was slowed down where the shots had claimed the most victims, creating an accordion phenomenon that disorganized the advance of the besiegers.
Like hundreds of militiamen resting at the time of the attack, Miriel ran to the main door. As she walked past the large building that served as headquarters a strange phenomenon froze her on the spot.
A circle of green light had just formed on her left. In its center shone a sphere of green light and... several humanoid silhouettes (also made of green light) appeared in the perimeter... gradually materializing in the form of armed goblins surrounding a shaman in a fur dress.
But her amazement lasted only a moment. Cries of terror and surprise resounded all around, preceding the sound of warning bells... it was not an isolated phenomenon! Other goblins had just teleported inside the walls of Targos!
Suddenly a fuzzy shape passed Miriel and... many goblins collapsed, cut in half.
"Double Air Slash!"
That was Antilene! The heterochromia girl struck the enemies, unlashing two wind guillotines in front of her and cutting down the goblin shaman, preventing him from completing his incantation. Then she leaped into the midst of the goblins, wielding his weapon in a dazzling display of the use of a Glaive... cutting enemies in half, separating heads from bodies, pursuing the routing enemies, and slaughtering them without mercy.
Briefly, Miriel saw the face of her friend and shivered... the gothic harlequin was exalted, with a predator smile and an ecstatic face... Without worrying about the Summoner, she jumped and ran towards the sounds of battle to plunge recklessly into another battle.
Continuing her journey guided by the sound of fighting, Miriel arrived just in time to save Altiria. The young elf priestess defended Diolaine against dozens of goblins... The thief lay on the ground, unconscious. Fortunately, a simple look at the interface of OOO reassured the Summoner. Her maid was not dead, or even injured, on his status screen it was marked 'asleep', probably the result of a spell used by the shaman who led the attackers.
While running towards the confrontation, the Wizard had cast 'Armor'. She stopped and extended her hand.
"Monster Conjuration III"
This spell can randomly summon a variable number of level-three monsters.
The monsters that appeared in a whirlwind of purple energy were huge beetles... four or five times bigger than goblins. They immediately attacked, slicing the small humanoids. Not only their pincers were capable of slicing a man's arm in one fell swoop, but their chitin armor was as strong as steel.
As they occupied the enemy infantry, Miriel took her bow and fired. With an arrow in the heart, the goblin shaman fell backward without being able to complete the incantation he was preparing.
Leyen Aristeia and Khalid Deez were fighting back to back, surrounded by goblin corpses...
At first, they had been assisted by a group of militia. But one after the other, these ordinary soldiers had died.
Riding a huge worg - a giant wolf- a goblin in black armor and wolf fur cloak pointed to the two defenders of his axe. Immediately the goblins began to giggle and slowly approached narrowing the circle centered on Linen and Khalid.
But before they're close enough to attack...
"Greater Wind Stride."
"Greater Ability Boost."
"Steeled Arm Strike."
It was like an explosion. Goblins were thrown in all directions, shredded, and cut into pieces. In the blink of an eyelid, the situation had been completely turned upside down.
Horrified, the goblins retreated in disorder pursued by... Antilene!
The priestess of the god of death caught up with the fugitives and massacred them without listening to cries or supplications. Raised in the Slane Theocracy she did not see goblins as intelligent beings but as a plague that was to be eradicated at all costs.
Khalid and Leyen had managed not to lose sight of Antilene... it must be said that her track was rather easy to follow! And they caught up with her as she leaped into a large mass of enemies attacking the rampart from behind.
The moment before, the militiamen were backing down the stairs leading to the walkway, while the defenders at the top had to push the goblins' ladders while offering their backs as a target to the goblins already inside the wall.
The situation was desperate...
The arrival of the harlequin girl completely changed the course of the fight.
She seemed to dance with her Glaive, she was in the center of a swirl formed by the axe-like spearhead, passing the weapon in one hand, in the other, or above her head, like a juggler.
Suddenly, Antilene appeared to have ten arms thrusting her weapon like a spear, and she jumped in pursuit of enemies who were retreating in disorder to escape the massacre. The result was excruciatingly gory... they fell cut into pieces in an explosion of blood!
Some routing goblins threw themselves on Khalid and Leyen... without even seeing them... they had their eyes turned towards Antilene. The two warriors had little trouble eliminating them. They did not think to fight but to flee.
Miriel, Altiria, and Diolaine arrived just at this moment... attending the end of the fight. At least if one could talk about combat...the goblins had no more chance to fight back than a lamb had a chance to survive in a slaughterhouse.
The thief was still rubbing her cheeks, the wizard having slapped her until she woke up.
"Um... I just made a big decision, from now on, every morning I will pray to all the existing gods to stay in the same camp as Antilene..."
Miriel makes a grimace-like smile. Diolaine had made a wish that she fully shared... Discreetly, she looked towards Altiria Siina Verteil.
She had met the elf four days earlier and had not had the opportunity to speak with her, at least not more than a few words and only in connection with their current mission. All she knew was that she came directly from the elf kingdom, having left the forest for unknown reasons in the company of Leyen Aristeia.
But Antilene had been continually aggressive and contemptuous to the elves, and Miriel had been forced to calm her friend several times.
But Altiria showed no reaction by attending the massacre of goblins, her beautiful face as pale as ivory frozen in a hieratic posture. Yet the priestess had to understand that, for Antilene, elves were no different from goblins... just another group of parasites to eradicate. Miriel admits that she was impressed by the elf's self-control.
Suddenly...
A circle of green light appeared among the corpses.
Mireille widened her eyes in terror. She recognized the phenomenon.
"Teleportation!"
Indeed, a group of a dozen goblins in metal armor - probably some sort of elite troop- appeared around a shaman dressed in a wolf skin dress.
Immediately the shaman began to sing and dance grotesquely, waving a staff as twisted as a vine branch that he suddenly pointed at the wooden wall.
A ball of red flame materialized in front of the staff, before growing to the size of a human head then...
The igneous projectile rushed to hit the wooden wall. The explosion was incredibly violent. A huge section of the wall (at least three meters wide) was broken, tree trunks partly charred now littered on the ground and flames crackled everywhere.
A dozen militiamen had immediately been cremated alive and many writhed on the ground trying to extinguish the flames that devoured them.
As for the shaman, he immediately began a new dance... the next moment he disappeared, leaving behind him a silhouette of green light that gradually faded. Having accomplished his mission, he had teleported elsewhere!
And the ranting of thousands of goblins running towards the breach left no doubt about the nature of his mission.
The northeast gate was where the wooden wall met the cliff that dominated the harbor and under which the smugglers' caves lay.
Violent fighting was taking place there. The doors were now bristling with arrows. Many dead and dying goblins testified to fearless assaults each time repelled.
Nevertheless, the enemy did not give up. A new attack was preparing. A ram protected by a roof of solid wooden planks advanced towards the door. At the end of the chains oscillated a trunk of squared wood, the tip of which was covered with coarsely hammered steel.
Between each goblin pushing the siege machine moved another one who raised a large shield to protect him.
The militia archers started shooting and their arrows did some damage... only, the small monsters responded with arrows' volleys that forced them to duck their heads to the shelter of the battlements.
As the ram began to knock against the door, a goblin dressed in wolf fur materialized on the walkway.
With his mage staff, he eliminated several defenders and then cast a Fireball on the militiamen gathered to defend the door.
The battle had been going on for four hours when the goblin Grand Shaman broke down a section of the ramparts. Immediately the enemy converged through the breach. Of course, depth's defense played its part. The attackers lost people in ambushes or by attacking the barricades erected by the defenders. Yet the wolf riders overcome this resistance... even if (again) it cost them heavy losses.
The militiamen armed with spears and shields had gathered into a porcupine formation that now painfully contained the attackers. Nevertheless, isolated and surrounded by many enemies, they were only selling their skin at the highest possible price.
But a kind of cannonball knocked down several rows of Green Skins, massacring them in an explosion of blood.
Antilene had just arrived.
As Leyen Aristeia and Khalid Deez threw themselves into battle, killing goblins fleeing the destructive fury of the gothic harlequin, Miriel summoned a small group of disparate creatures through 'Monster Conjuration III'.
Then she took her bow like Altiria and with Diolaine (who was armed with a crossbow) began to shoot at the enemies who continued to arrive through the breach.
Only a few minutes later, a large explosion shook Targos.
The three girls turned in the direction of the blast.
"It's the Great Gate," said Altiria.
Miriel hesitated for a brief moment and looked in the direction of Antilene who continued imperturbably her work of reaper of the living, quite in line with her career as a priestess of the god of death...
"I believe the situation is under control here. But if the Great Gate falls, Targos is doomed. We must go and see."
The beautiful elf priestess nodded in an elegant movement.
"You're right, I follow you."
Diolaine replied with an enthusiastic smile.
"More victims to loot!"
The noise was like thunder, the goblins that passed through the door ripped open by the ram did not pay attention to it until they got into the sloping street going down towards the city center
Going up this same street, knights in glittering plate armors swept over like a tidal wave of steel. Their faces were invisible behind the visor of their armet helmets ornate with colored horsehair plumes. A heater shield with the arms of some noble house on the left arm, a lance several meters long on the right, they mounted powerful armored steeds. Above them floated a white banner with a blue symbol.
At their head, Baron Marcus Alcaire Breval lowered his long spear to the horizontal:
"For the Holy Roble Kingdom, for Targos!"
His war cry was sung in chorus by the knights who charged the mass of the goblins. They were only about fifteen, but in a street, it was impossible to dodge a cavalry charge. And each armored horse weighed more than five hundred kilos. The shock was appalling. The spears pierced many chests, while some enemies were thrown to the ground; others were trampled to death by the mounts of the gallants' knights of Roble. Now surrounded by the horde that was pouring into the city, the knights dropped their spears - now useless- to grab the weapon hanging from the hip of their saddle: axe for some, maces for others. Leaning on the neckline of their steeds, they struck right and left, laying goblin blood on the ground.
The Baron of Targos, however, continued to shout with his sword held over his head:
"To me, to me, o my people, rally to me, for victory!"
And his men heard it. The desperate levies, the disillusioned militiamen, and the surrounded mercenaries, all heard his speech and the courage returned to them. They launched a general counter-attack.
The battle reached its apotheosis; everything was going to be decided there.
Like all the other fighters, Miriel, Diolaine, and Altiria participated in the counter-offensive. While the thief fought with her sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, the priestess protected herself behind a buckler and struck with a mace.
They were good fighters and effectively protected Miriel and the Summoner could focus only on summoning monsters, even more monsters... she called one group after another in a futile effort to turn the tide of battle.
Individually much more powerful than goblins, the summoned creatures threw themselves into the fray massacring dozens of opponents before being overwhelmed by the sheer number of Green Skins.
Realizing that all she was doing was totally vain, the half-elf looked for something to do, something that really changed the course of the battle... the militiamen died one after the other, and even the knights began to weaken...
And suddenly Miriel saw the Great Shaman watching the battle standing on the walkway.
She suddenly remembered what she had seen in the crystal ball just before the battle began. The ceremony. The goblins were very cowardly... yet they had accepted extremely heavy losses just to take a human city to several days of walking from their usual territory.
Only magic explained a behavior so contrary to their habits.
Even before Miriel had completed this reasoning consciously, she had taken her elven longbow.
A moment later an arrow seemed to materialize in the chest of the Great Shaman.
The body fell below and crashed over the other goblins.
At this very moment, the spell of courage dissipated.
As if an invisible hand had pressed a switch, the horde once again became an assembly of dozens of rival tribes made of cowards and egoists.
The goblins showed their backs to the defenders and ran towards the door.
The offensive had turned into a widespread flight.
Author's note: As you may have guessed, Targos' conquest plan was devised by Demiurge/Jaddabaoth.
Originally, the offensive passing the underground, the teleportation of the troops inside the wall, and the assault conducted from the outside were to take place simultaneously... but bad luck mixed in.
Napoleon Bonaparte said: "A good battle plan can fail because of bad luck. A bad battle plan can succeed by chance."
He also said: "Soldiers prefer lucky generals to talented generals and they are right."
Speaking of Demiurge and his plans, I would specify that if the demon is at the origin of the plan, he was not there to apply it... which explains why the battle plan was applied so awkwardly.
Oh, as long as I think about it... For those who wonder, taking Targos is a very secondary objective of the campaign, even the capture of the bridge over the Shelayen River is the primary objective... of a diversion. In fact, those who read the LN know that the offensive of 'Jaddabaoth' against the Robble Kingdom is not intended to succeed... Ainz's plan is much more Machiavellian.
(1) Note that the wall is made of green timber (just cut), the wood still filled with liquid sap burns very badly.
(2) Do you understand? No? A hint... thinks about World War II.
(3) You would probably confuse them with catapults (because these weapons are externally very similar). But the catapults use giant bows, while mangonels use springs and gears.
