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The Slayers
Chapter 17: She-wolf

Chapter 17: She-wolf

”Give me fifty good men, and I’ll hit the Sullivan camp and slit their leader’s throat.”

Jerry almost choked on water when Alex said that to him.

“Look, that’s crazy, even for you.” He commented after he finished coughing and turned to Alex.

“No, I’m serious.” Alex’s straight face told Jerry she wasn’t kidding. “I just came back from a trip to the exterior of the Sullivan base. They’re exhausted from the ambush. If I can go in during the night, I can do a lot of damage. With any luck I can delay their attack on the camp.”

“Really? Attack a camp of one thousand with fifty men? That’s Spartan level craziness.”

“Look, they will never expect it after what happened in the day.”

“Because that’s stupid and they know it.”

“We can’t sit back and do nothing.” Alex continued. “Patel managed to stabilize the camp, but there’s no telling how long we can hold if the Sullivans push forward.”

“There’s no way we can catch a professional army by surprise. After the ambush in the day, the Sullivans no doubt have nets of scouts around the perimeter. The entire camp will be woken up if just a single sentry spots us.”

“We can’t sit back and do nothing.” Alex repeated. “Talk to the others.”

Jerry frowned. “What?”

“Chris might be a brainless fool, but Sophia and Patel are some of the smartest of us all. Having them help you come up with a plan can never hurt.” Alex declared. “Go talk to them and work with them.”

Jerry paused. His eyes landed on the floor as he tried to think of a reason to refuse.

“What are you afraid of?” The brunette pushed. “No harm can come of this.”

“I don’t like to rely on others.” Jerry finally answered. He gulped before continuing. “I just don’t trust them to come up with decent strategies. That’s it. They can’t help me.”

“And you think you are flawless?” Alex was blunt. “Can you really say for sure that you are so perfect that there is nothing you can learn from people like Patel and Sophia?”

“Well, I’m sure there are some things that they are better at than me…”

“Then learn from them.” Alex threw her hands up. “Work with them and learn from their advantages. Use them to make up for your own disadvantages! You have to recognize your own flaws, Jerry!”

Jerry’s face turned slightly red. Alex’s criticism was harsh, and it was enough to make him realize his mistake: He was being arrogant. After the battle in the canyon, Jerry decided to pin all the blames on Chris. Was Chris responsible for the losses? Yes. Was Jerry without responsibility? No. Jerry’s decision to send a scouting party to Maynard City directly led to Karl’s death and Chris’s decision to enter battle. Plus, if Jerry was more cautious, he would’ve ordered the militias to charge out of the Sullivan lines than charge in toward the center, which would decrease the casualties. His false estimation of the number of Sullivan soldiers in the army also took a huge toll on the Alliance.

He wasn’t the most responsible, but he wasn’t blameless either.

Jerry knew it deep down, but a part of him simply blocked it out and refused to acknowledge it. It was his ego. He subconsciously refused to admit the fact that he made a series of costly mistakes.

Alex popped his bubble mercilessly.

Just as Jerry was about to snap, Alex continued.

“It’s the most logical thing to do.”

Yes. Indeed, it was the most logical, unemotional thing to do.

Jerry’s anger disappeared into thin air.

“Thank you. Thank you for waking me up.” He said to Alex.

“Now, where is Patel?”

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The Sullivan camp wasn’t the most decorated, but all the essential parts were there. While setting up the camp, Sullivan soldiers found logs in the surrounding, some of them from the scene of the ambush, and used them to make a layer of fences. The fences could be cut through, given the time, but then again their purpose was simply to keep the enemies back in the case of a full scale attack and buy some time for the Sullivans to get ready.

Groups of patrol marched across the sea of tents. They were unlucky enough to have to stay awake after marching and fighting for an entire day. At least they could get some rest after standing and walking around for three hours, after new patrols take their place.

Each Sullivan tent held ten men. The entire camp was made up of over a hundred tents. The tents closer to the fences held foot soldiers, while the ones in the center either acted as the resting area for the Commander of the battalion and his cavalry guards, or as warehouse for the army’s food, fresh water, and other supply. The entire camp was set so that in the case of an attack, those on the outside could keep those on the inside safe.

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The Twentieth Battalion might just be a local garrison, but it fully adopted the Sullivan military traditions that were used in the most elite corps.

Outside the camp, fifty men marched across the field. Most of them were freed slaves. Chris was leading them.

Just as they were about to approach the camp, a scream cried out in the silent night.

“Hostile incoming! To arms!”

Chris snapped around as one of the men behind him sent an arrow into a nearby bush. Immediately, the bush collapsed, and a Sullivan soldier fell out. The arrow was lodged into his shoulder. One of the men walked up and ended the sentry.

The sentry was slaughtered, but the scream couldn’t be undone. Immediately, other Sullivan scouts and sentries in the perimeter that heard the scream passed the news down with shouts of their own. Not long after, the entire camp was woken up.

As soon as they were woken up from their dreams, Sullivan soldiers went into full action mode. Their mouth opened and they shouted as loud as possible to wake up their comrades. They themselves grabbed onto swords and shields and walked out of their tents. They were in a combat situation, so their armors weren’t taken off when they slept. Otherwise, in the case of an attack, the enemies would already be in front of them before they could put their helmets on.

Countless Sullivan soldiers gathered in the alleys between their tents. Captains stood in front. Torches banished the darkness. Unfortunately, soldiers weren’t cats. They couldn’t see in the dark. This was especially dangerous in an age where the most efficient way of communication was by shouting. One misstep, and the entire Sullivan army might turn on itself in the chaos.

“Formation!” Men in the first line raised their shields toward the fences.

“Shield up!”

“Spears out!”

“Ha!”

The Battalion Commander walked out of his tent. A lieutenant with the commander’s warhorse stood behind the commander. Twenty fully armored horsemen were ready. They didn't shed a single drop of blood in the day. This would change if the enemies think they can take the Sullivans by surprise.

As the formation formed, the concern in the commander’s heart disappeared. Whoever the attackers were, they were being awfully slow in their surprise attack. At this point, the element of surprise was completely gone. The attackers might as well call it a day and go home.

Just like he expected, a scout ran down the alleys of the camp and stopped in front of the commander.

“Commander, the intruders killed four sentries and left.” The scout’s voice was full of relief. He didn't need to die. It was obviously good news.

“They know they can’t achieve anything.” The commander smirked. Fools. First, they try to ambush fifteen hundred men with nine hundred. Now, they try to attack one thousand men with less than half that count. Their courage is admirable, but courage doesn’t win wars. Resources do.

“Commander?” His lieutenant asked. “Our men are exhausted. If we want them to launch an assault tomorrow, we need to give them some rest.”

“Indeed.” The commander nodded. “Tell the men to go back to sleep. Replace the sentries and scouts.” He didn't think the enemy would attack again, but this was just in case.

“Yes sir!”

The Sullivan soldiers returned to their tent, laid down their weapons, and closed their eyes while cursing the commander of the enemies. Every inch of their body was hurting, and their eyelids embraced each other. The few unlucky sentries swore when they heard the orders, but they had no choice but to comply. Nonetheless, this time, they could barely stay awake on their posts. Plus, the enemies needed rest as well. Their men have just fought in the day, and after bringing the entire army out and achieving nothing, there was no doubt the enemy soldiers were exhausted as well. Who would be dumb enough to try again?

The Sullivans didn't know the militias fought in the day and the freed slaves, who were untouched, were the ones attacking the Sullivan camp. The men also attacked in tiny groups. In other words, they could afford to do this a lot more times.

Half an hour later, when most of the Sullivan camp was asleep, the wolves were here again. This time, it was a she-wolf.

A sentry that was between awake and asleep suddenly felt a surge of pain. The pain was so intense that it shook him completely awake. Opening his eyes, the man coughed before losing control of his body. He collapsed. An arrow was in his chest.

Nicole lowered her bow and waved her hand. Beside her, another fifty men, not the ones that followed Alex, sneaked toward the camp. This time, these men got through without any fuss. Most of the sentries got their throats slit before they could even open their eyes.

Nicole and five more archers approached the gate. All those archers were former hunters who have had experience with shooting arrows. Simultaneously, they took aim at the half a dozen sentries at the gate, loaded an arrow, and fired it.

Five of the six sentries collapsed. The last sentry was woken up by the sound of bodies hitting the ground. Just as he opened his eyes, he found a raging Nicole charging at him with her blade drawn.

“Incom…” Just as the sentry drew his sword, Nicole was already on top of him. She jammed her sword down into his chest. The man screamed briefly, but before the full scream could come out, Nicole slashed him across the throat again, nearly beheading him.

Within minutes, all the around twenty sentries were no more than bodies on the ground, and the Sullivans were still unaware of the attack.

Nicole and her squad continued to push forward. All the archers stayed behind at the gate and had their bows pointed at the tents. Nicole and the other men, who drew their melee weapons, got into the camp and sneaked into the tents.

As soon as they entered, the sound of metal going through human flesh rang out. When the men came out, their weapons and clothing were covered with blood.

Nicole got into one of the tents with five other men. Ten Sullivan foot soldiers were snoring like thunder. Nicole wrapped her bow around her back and grabbed onto her sword. She knelt down beside one of the men, covered his mouth, before pushing the sword into his heart. The man struggled and tried to form a scream, but Nicole held him tightly. The girl’s expression was blank as a paper. She only released the man after his struggling stopped.

The other men went into action as well. Silenced groans echoed throughout the tents.

Honestly, the Sullivans shouldn’t suffer that many losses. The asleep men were completely defenseless, but there were patrols who could’ve realized something was wrong. Fortunately for Nicole, the patrol group near the entrance decided to take a short nap before continuing with their mission.

As a consequence, dozens more Sullivans died in their sleep.

The onslaught finally stopped when the patrols decided to take another walk before taking a break again.

Imagine their horror when they find a group of assassins slaughtering their comrades, as well as a dozen tents with nothing but corpses inside.

Nicole sent another arrow into the patrol captain’s chest before ordering the entire squad to retreat. As the Sullivans woke up, the attackers were already gone. When the patrol tried to pursue, they were welcomed by a wave of arrows from the shadows.