Chapitre 292: CHAPTER 292 Struggle for Control
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CHAPTER 292 Struggle for Control
297 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
It had been a week since the mountain army had reached this position, and they were growing restless. The Magnar of Redsmiths Toruin, son of Garth, was becoming more vocal about it with every passing day.
Aermir had left Ulf as the leader, and he was having a hard time controlling them. As the tension among the mountain clans reached a boiling point, the Magnar of Redsmiths stood at the forefront of the dissenting voices. He paced back and forth in the makeshift council tent concealed with bushes and branches so it could not be seen from high elevations, his brow furrowed with frustration.
"We've been sitting here for too long, Ulf," Toruin growled, his voice echoing off the canvas walls. Our warriors are hungry for glory, and right in front of our eyes lies a fat pig waiting to be slaughtered, unaware of our existence. It just lays there as we wait. With every passing day, our chance of being discovered is rising. We need to take action."
Standing tall but visibly uneasy, Ulf met Toruin's gaze with a resolute stare. "I understand your concerns, Toruin," he replied. "But we cannot act without the Druid's guidance. He entrusted me with the leadership in his absence, and I will not disobey his orders."
He raised from his place, and while looking into the eyes of every chief, he continued, "We managed to reach our first real victory over the Valemen thanks to his leadership, and we are going to continue obeying his order. Druid's way is the way to victory."
Several other chiefs murmured in agreement with Ulf, but some of them agreed with Toruin, their impatience palpable in the air. One of them, a burly warrior named Rolf from Milk Snakes, stepped forward, his voice booming with frustration. "We didn't come all this way just to sit around and wait for some sorcerer to tell us what to do," he declared, his fists clenched at his sides.
Ulf flew into action without waiting for a second and punched Rolf to the ground. "We might be free mountain men, but if any one of you disrespects the Druid ever again. I will cut your long tongues and put it into your hand."
After some heated discussion, things started to calm down. Ulf held up a hand, attempting to calm the growing unrest. "The Druid has always acted in the best interests of our people," he insisted. "We must trust in his wisdom and wait for his return."
But Toruin was not so easily swayed. "I will not let this opportunity pass me by. While we wait for our great savior, we might lose our advantage," he retorted, his voice rising with anger. "We need to take matters into our own hands. We, Redsmiths, will attack the Strongsong. Who has the guts to stand with us and attain glory?"
Upon those words, the tension in the tent rose to new heights as the two factions squared off, each unwilling to back down from their convictions. From Ulf's face, it was obvious he was about to burst out with rage. While grinding his teeth, he asked," Chief Toruin, do you comprehend what you are saying?"
Ulf slammed his fist to the table. "Are you a hidden Vale cunt among us or a mountain warrior? How can you act like this while donning the armor he gave us and using the weapon he provided?" Ulf was boiling with rage as he continued," ...Or are you a beast that would bite the hand that is feeding you?"
Tourin advanced on Ulf, and they were about to fight. Some warriors and chiefs were trying to intervene and stop them. Tourin shouted, "Did you stop being the chief of the Moon Brothers and become the lap dogs of the Druid? We listen to him but do not serve him. Your father would have turned over in his grave if he had seen you like this."
Ulf's face was full of disgust and said "Contrary to curs such as yourself. We, Moon Brothers, can differ between gratitude and servitude. "
Ulf's face filled with pride and continued," Even if we were to serve the Druid, it would be a source of pride for us, not shame. You gave your word at the Moonlight Accord, and you would break it by disobeying his orders! I, Ulf, son of Umar, chief of the Moon Brothers, challenge you to a duel. Let the Old Gods decide which of us is the righteous and which is the cur!"
...
Their great axes gleamed in the sunlight, their enchanted armor clinking with each heavy step they took. With a roar, Toruin swung his massive axe in a wide arc, aiming for Ulf's midsection. Ulf raised his own great axe just in time, the clash of metal ringing out across the camp as their axes collided with tremendous force. Both fighters used the same enchanted armor and great axes, so the outcome was decided by who was more talented.
Ulf countered with a swift strike of his own, aiming for Toruin's exposed flank. Toruin deftly sidestepped the blow, his movements surprisingly agile for a man of his size. He retaliated with a series of rapid strikes, each one aimed with deadly precision at Ulf's defenses.
But Ulf was no ordinary opponent. With a deft twist of his body, he parried Toruin's attacks with ease, his movements fluid and graceful despite the weight of his armor. With a roar of determination, he launched a counterattack of his own, driving Toruin back with a relentless onslaught of blows.
The two warriors circled each other warily as they looked out for openings. Toruin lunged forward, his axe swinging down with all the force of a charging bull. But Ulf was ready, his senses honed by years of combat experience. With a lightning-fast movement, he sidestepped the blow and countered with a powerful strike of his own using the pommel of his axe.
Toruin managed to block it using his axe head like a shield. The impact reverberated through the air as if shockwaves were rippling across the field. As the two enchanted weapons clashed, those who were watching from the sides had to close their ears because of the thundering sounds.
Toruin staggered back, his grip on his axe faltering for just a moment. Seizing the opportunity, Ulf pressed his advantage, his axe whistling through the air as he launched a flurry of strikes at his opponent.
With a mighty heave, Ulf delivered a blow, aiming for Toruin's weapon arm with all the strength he could muster. But Toruin wasn't born yesterday; he had anticipated it and dodged out of the way by rolling and tripping Ulf with the tip of his axe shaft.
Ulf couldn't control his force because of the trip and fell. Toruin didn't give him any chance to collect himself and started to wave his axe toward him. Seeing the attack, Ulf rolled on the ground like a log, trying to distance himself from Toruin. As the axe approached, he changed strategies and managed to parry Toruin's axe with his shaft and trap it with his axe's beard by pulling it to the side.
Ulf acted with a rehearsed dexterity and first kicked Toruin's knee, causing him to fall on one knee, then followed with another kick to his helmet, causing him to stumble back, giving enough time for Ulf to get up. Managing to get his baring Ulf started one rapid strike after another while whirling the great axe on top of his head in a rapid circular motion.
Toruin was trying to block them with his axe, but he was not fast enough. Some of the strikes were hitting his body, causing him some blunt-force pain. If he had not worn Aermir's durable enchanted armor, he would have died long ago.
Seeing that he was losing his ground, Ulf used the beard of his axe again and trapped Toruin's axe again. Toruin was trying to take back the rhythm of the fight, but it was too late. Ulf first headbutted him, and this caused him to stun for a second. Ulf used the pommel on the end of his axe and struck Toruin's hand.
The force of the impact sent Toruin's axe flying from his grasp, clattering to the ground several paces away. As Toruin stumbled backward, disarmed, a powerful kick slammed right on the middle of his chest, sending him flying for a few meters. Ulf stood victorious, his chest heaving with exertion but his gaze full of pride.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone