Lord of the Rings: Warriors

"Hyah!" The Knights of the Crossed Purple Jasmine spurred their horses into formation, riding forward to lure the enemy.

"Form up! Stay hidden!" Nyx drew a long, slender staff. Magical energy swirled around the staff, shimmering like flowing ribbons of light.

"Stay sharp! Be on your guard. We're up against the warriors riding war chariots! They're fierce, powerful, and well-equipped!" Nyx exhaled heavily, her expression grim.

At this point, the Crusaders were far from the legendary army of one hundred thousand strong that would later be recorded in history. 

This force was a mix of militia and professional soldiers, numbering only about 5,000. And now, they were about to clash with the for the very first time.

"Huff... huff..." The heavy breathing of the Knights of the Crossed Purple Jasmine echoed from beneath their visors. As the enemy drew closer, each knight reached for the flails hanging from their saddles.

Whack!

The first swing of a flail sent a bloody spray into the air. The sickening crunch of shattering bone was heard as a warrior's chest caved inward. 

His body was hurled from the chariot, tumbling several times before coming to a twitching halt.

The flails, forged with expert craftsmanship, proved to be the ultimate "can opener." 

Against leather armor, every strike left behind deep bruises and concave imprints. 

But against iron armor? The result was far more brutal. 

Fragments of iron and sprays of blood painted a grim picture of how disastrous it was for an untrained soldier to face a flail head-on.

"Kill them all!" Enraged by the sudden assault, the chariot warriors' eyes turned blood-red. 

They cracked their whips, urging their horses to speed up, turning their chariots around to chase after the Knights of the Crossed Purple Jasmine.

"They're coming after us!" One knight glanced back to see the scouts had taken the bait. With that, the knights urged their horses to pick up speed, galloping swiftly ahead.

"The enemy is approaching! Prepare for impact!" The Knights of the Crossed Purple Jasmine crested a hill, calling down to their soldiers below. Not far behind, the chariots burst over the hill, their spears glinting like fangs in the sun.

"Hold the line!" Nyx swallowed nervously, her voice trembling but firm.

"Charge!" The warriors roared as their chariots hurtled down the hill, closing in like a tidal wave.

"Raise your spears! Form the chevaux-de-frise!" 

Several lower-ranking officers shouted orders. 

Militiamen and professional soldiers alike gripped their spears tightly. Row after row of steel and wooden shields were hoisted up, forming an improvised shield wall.

"Brace for impact!" Officers bellowed, their voices strained as the rumbling of chariots filled the air. 

The soldiers knew that if they failed to hold the line, the chariots would smash through their formation, causing a chaotic rout that could lead to their slaughter.

Boom!

Several chariots hit the shield wall head-on. The sheer momentum of the warhorses was unstoppable. The impact launched soldiers into the air like ragdolls. 

The spinning wheel blades, fixed on the chariot axles, ripped through armor and flesh alike.

Soldiers in iron armor fared better, with only their armor being dented. Some seasoned warriors, protected by the power of their battle aura, emerged unscathed. 

But the light infantry, clad only in cloth and leather, had no such luck. The blades shredded them like paper. 

Blood spurted out like fountains, and screams of agony filled the battlefield. Dozens of militia soldiers collapsed, clutching their wounds, writhing in a growing pool of red.

"Entangling Vines!"

With a flash of emerald light from her eyes, Nyx cast her spell. Thick, green vines erupted from the ground like a swarm of snakes. 

The vines rapidly twisted around the wheels of the onrushing chariots. 

Under the strain of the magical vines and the chariots' momentum, the wheels buckled and splintered. The entire chariot frame crumbled apart, flinging the warriors into the air.

Three charioteers were thrown to the ground, groaning in pain, too disoriented to react.

"Strike them down!" Several foot soldiers, dressed in linen robes embroidered with the cross, rushed in. 

Their swords rose and fell, cutting down the dazed charioteers before they could recover.

A warrior, without hesitation, lifted his spear and drove it through a charioteer as he staggered to his feet. 

The soldier wrenched the spear free, letting the body crumple to the ground. Blood dripped steadily from the spearhead, pooling at his feet.

"Ughh!" Several charioteers took arrows to the chest and toppled from their chariots.

Though the initial attack caused panic, the Crusader soldiers quickly regained their composure. Officers barked commands, leading them to surround the remaining chariots. Isolated and outnumbered, the charioteers were quickly overwhelmed.

"Archers! Fire at will!" Seeing that some of the charioteers had taken cover inside the wrecked chariots, Nyx ordered a volley of arrows to avoid unnecessary losses.

"Kill them! Show them who they're up against!" A knight waved his hand, and the archers raised their bows.

The arrows rained down like a storm. Despite their leather or iron armor, the warriors were unable to withstand the piercing force of the arrows. 

With pained screams, they fell one by one, lifeless bodies sprawling over the battlefield.

"Check for survivors! Leave no one behind!" After the rain of arrows ceased, the officers gave their next orders. 

Soldiers moved forward cautiously, spears at the ready, jabbing at fallen bodies to ensure no one was playing dead.

"Sir! They're all dead!" The soldiers grinned, clearly proud of their thorough work.

The officers frowned, glancing at the mutilated remains of the warriors. 

Their bodies had been so badly desecrated by the overzealous soldiers that some were no longer recognizable as human.

"...I told you to check for survivors, not to beat them into soup," muttered one officer, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"What's wrong, Your Grace?" A Knight of the Crossed Purple Jasmine approached the silent Nyx.

"This was just a handful of chariots... and yet our soldiers suffered heavy casualties. The line almost broke." Nyx clenched her fists, her eyes dim with doubt. 

"I'm starting to wonder if this crusade was a mistake."

Her gaze wandered into the distance, eyes filled with disillusionment. She had envisioned a grand return to the Nyxian Duchy, driving out enemies and reclaiming her homeland. 

But the harsh reality of this skirmish had shattered her fantasies. Her Crusaders were little more than a band of misfits. Aside from sheer numbers, they had no strength worth boasting about.

"Your Grace, believe in yourself! Believe in us!" 

The knights raised their voices, rallying around her. "No matter what, we will stand before you and fight for you — until the last drop of our blood!"

If only Reynard were here, he would have ordered the army to erase all traces of battle, retreat immediately, and avoid this route altogether. 

He would have known that the disappearance of a patrol would alert their main force. 

A larger scouting party would be sent, and it wouldn't be long before they followed the trail straight to them.

"Thank you for your loyalty." Duke Nyx's small hands tightened into fists, her face flushed with determination. "We will keep fighting! We will crush the enemy and march to victory!"

If Rynar were here, he'd probably be in tears. The girl had the heart of a lion, but she didn't understand the peril she faced. 

She had no idea how many enemies lay ahead. Even a fully trained Zaltarion Imperial Legion would suffer heavy losses here, let alone a ragtag force of 5,000.

"Clean the battlefield! We camp ahead tonight at the mouth of the valley!" Nyx pointed toward an open, flat stretch of land.

"Understood, Your Grace!" Several knights rode ahead to scout the area.

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