Imperator: Resurrection of an Empire-Chapter 414 - 409 - Interlude - The Great Wolf Howls Alone

Chapter 414: 409 - Interlude - The Great Wolf Howls Alone

Sand.

Endless, blinding, burning sand.

It clung to armor.

It seeped through cloth.

It chewed at morale, skin, and spirit alike.

And yet... we marched.

Always marched.

Endlessly we the loyal soldiers of the empire marched on to war.

Because I, Medellin Valdesca—the Great Wolf of the Visigoth Empire—was expected to deliver victory where lesser generals could only deliver excuses.

But even a wolf could grow weary.

And even a wolf could question the hunt.

~

The desert wind shrieked across the Aegyptus borderlands as I stood at the crest of a dune, watching my army grind its way forward like a bleeding beast forced to continue by sheer will.

Tens of thousands of soldiers.

Elite by any measure.

But even elite men grew tired.

Even hardened soldiers became hollow-eyed after months of heat, ambushes, and divine retribution cast against us by the gods for entering these forsaken lands.

I clenched my jaw.

Aura surged around me—instinctive, powerful, radiating outward in ripples of silver.

The men straightened when they felt it.

Fear and awe.

My presence alone bought them another hour of strength.

But I could not forge stamina from nothing.

Nor reinforcements from sand.

A messenger approached, drenched in sweat and terror.

"My lady—the Fourth Mile Fortress has fallen back to Aegyptus hands. their chariots pushed through our northern flank—"

"I know."

He stopped mid-word as my eyes opened and locked onto him.

Call it womens intuition or command sense, but i felt the moment miles away: the sudden collapse of my mens morale, the shifting aura signatures, the dying sparks of my own commanders.

The messenger bowed so low his forehead touched the sand.

"...Forgive my useless report."

"It is not useless," I said. "It is honest."

But honest information was a blade.

And this blade was cutting our empire’s ambitions apart.

~

I turned my gaze toward the distant enemy lines—barely visible shimmering shapes beyond the dunes.

Aegyptus was supposed to break.

And easy conquest as our vast army swept the landscape, nation after nation falling before us, and yet.

Yet this time...

This time the gods truly favoured them.

Their people resisted with a fervor we’d as of yet not seen since the fields of Aquitania years ago, the ruling Pharoh had instilled a will to resist occupation into every man women and child, even territories we conquered resisted strongly leading to a purge of the occupied portions, leading to greater unrest of the people who had even more of a reason to stand again our occupation.

Worse yet the people had a firm grasp of the terrain of their own nation, endlessly leading my commanders into ambushes, or setting up field battled in canyons were our numbers would mean nothing.

The only saving grace is the fact that the Divine Kingdom was lacking in proper Aura users, allowing for our own Visigoth elites to carve through their lines when encountered.

~

I felt the vibration before I heard the horse.

Another messenger.

He dismounted before the horse even stopped, scrambling into a bow.

"Lady Medellin! Urgent dispatch from the Capital!"

I took the scroll.

Broke the seal.

Read.

Then I lowered it slowly.

"...The Eastern Coalition," I murmured.

The messenger swallowed. "Yes, my lady. Seven nations. They’ve crossed our southeastern borders. They’ve already retaken a third of the Honor Kingdom’s territories."

Of course.

Of course they had.

We had only just secured that territory before being rotated out but in our place wasnt a proper occupying force just a skeleton crew the bare minimum of men required to hold the land, while the elites under my command who were not given rest marched north to the next campaign straightaway.

And now thanks to that decision, the coalition formed to combat our aggressive expansion utilized that weakness to invade, forcing reinforcements that should come to us here on the frontlines to be diverted into the newly created front now.

Now they were tearing at our exposed flank.

I exhaled through my teeth.

"When do reinforcements arrive?" I asked.

The messenger went rigid.

"...They... won’t, my lady."

A long silence followed.

The kind that makes men sweat.

"Explain."

"The Emperor has issued a strategic diversion. The Second and Fifth armies are being rerouted to the eastern front. The Seventh Warlord is already on the move to repel the Coalition advance."

"And us?"

"...Hold. We’ve been ordered to hold our current holdings, stalling the Divine Kingdoms counter-offensives until such time that new reinforcements can be sent."

I laughed.

A short, sharp, humorless sound.

We were already sitting in a precarious position with half the army wounded or dead, greater than half our supplies used up and our supply lines in danger of being attacked if we can’t properly patrol the supply routes, and now they tell us to simply make do?

The messenger trembled.

"Forgive me, Great Wolf—these are the Emperor’s orders—"

"I understand."

And I did.

Due to the nations position at the center of the continent even if we had a million man standing army that entire army could not move on campaign at the same time, that would leave various borders undefended and open to attack.

Though for the martial council to have only planned for a single batch of reinforcements while leaving the newly conquered lands virtually undefended was apalling.

All those men of mine died there for nothing it seems, just like here.

Their lives being cut short only to be buried in the sands of a foreign land.

...

All for vain ambition.

~

After dismissing the messenger i held a quick council with my commanders and their proxy’s to inform them of the Empires descision and situation.

Many upon hearing the new sped from the command tent to inform their captains and spread the word to dig in.

But for me watching the wind rolling over the dunes of sand before me, i couldnt help thinking back to the rolling green hills of that faraway country.

Of the struggle an insignificant enemy had posed to the once thought invincible Visigoth armed forces.

It was most likely a trick of the eye, a mirage as they call it in these lands but i could swear every now and then i could see that arrogant man standing atop a dune staring down at my forces, a contempuous smirk on his face.

Seeing him even as an illusion was both a blessing and a curse.

It made me want to strive to be stronger to wipe that smirk off his face, but also cause me pain, pain to know perhaps i was no longer fighting for the cause i should be fighting for.