Headed by a Snake

Chapter 1070 Count-Off (Part Two)

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Domhnall took a half-step forward but stopped himself before doing anything rash.

He was about to step in between Virgilia and Tethrin of Highblade-- which would have been incredibly rude.

...He didn't quite know why he had the urge to do so. 

--but it was concerning. 

Tethrin's glowing gaze passed over him, returning to the reporting harpy. 

"Fret not, Hatchling," he said. "The Holy Princess is accounted for and will be present for the battle."

After a brief pause, he added, "Ah, and the Commander has arrived, as well."

Virgilia revealed a full smile upon hearing the news. 

"I hear you, Lord Highblade."

Considering her form, her status, and... that suspicious smile, Domhnall wondered if Virgilia had a close relationship with the Commander. 

The notion pricked at Domhnall's senses. The Commander of the Wyrmslayer Alliance had a reputation for being handsome and well-respected. Thus, it was a matter of course that he'd also be well-liked. 

Also, the Commander was also alive, a subject that Domhnall could not compete in. 

"Nemaya Strana, the Country of Sleeping Forests," Tethrin boomed. 

"20,142 warriors, present and accounted for," answered Domhnall, "of which, 1,611 are Guides and 7,855 are Striders."

"And the Nemayan Siege Weaponry?" Tethrin prompted. 

"43 Greater Frostwyrms, 110 lesser-- and for the siege weapons..."

Domhnall listed off the counts of the Nemayan Forces he committed to memory. 

Everyone in the Wyrmslayer Alliance seemed to think of their Greater Frostwyrms and their Pale Skyriders as a direct counter to the Drake Armor fleet. 

However, that wasn't exactly true. 

The magical bone constructs were enchanted to fly and the contemporary weapons installed had great destructive potential. Unfortunately, they were slow and cumbersome, especially when compared to the fast and agile (and likely, more numerous) dragon look-a-likes. 

For that purpose, much of Nemaya Strana's combat power was concentrated in their maneuverable emplacements. 

Gigantic net launchers, each manned by a practiced team of two. Single-manned repeating cannon emplacements, each enchanted round rated to a stupendous caliber. Complicated, four-man-carry magic crystals that shot concentrated beams of freezing magical cold. 

Usually, Nemayan Striders were fielded separately from their living counterparts. However, the Nemayan artillery line, under the guidance of Queen Arendelle, had incorporated them into integral and cohesive units. 

The tireless were responsible for the equipment's transport, set-up, and protection. The breathing were tasked to kill the enemy. 

Tethrin nodded sagely, the faint glow in his eyes seeming to imply that he knew all that and more. 

--and though Domhnall didn't believe he was xenophobic, he thought of the action as particularly... Elven. 

"The Magic Kingdom of Alizeau," Tethrin said, gesturing to Master Leafstrangle, 

"11,000 troops," Leafstrangle waved. "2 companies of Griffonriders, 1 company of those accursed dragon-birds."

"They're called dragonhawks,"[1] King Guorthigirn mumbled, "we have those too."

That might have been true, but the notion was akin to comparing a pack of mangy and underfed dogs to a pack of Nemayan winter wolves. 

Suddenly, Tethrin reached out his hand, grasping at the air in front of him. 

Guorthigirn let out a breathy gasp... and was unable to make any sound out of his mouth other than breathy gasps. 

It was a simple and effective ?Silence? Spell. 

The display of magical prowess instilled Domhnall with a great deal of vindictive pleasure. 

"--and some 2,000 Iron-Rank Wizards or higher," Leafstrangle said, shaking his head, "but in my estimation, only about 600 of those runts have spellbooks worth more than shhhhIT-PaPer."

"Your concern is *noted,* Sapling," Tethrin glared. 

"Sir," Leafstrangle bowed. 

...Tethrin of Highblade referred to Leafstrangle as a sapling.

While Domhnall was aware of the age difference, it was astounding to hear it stated aloud. 

And the fact that Leafstrangle let it pass was a chilling notion. 

"The Free Nation of Brel," Tethrin said.

He turned to Guorthigirn and made a cutting motion with his hand, canceling the ?Silence?  Spell and allowing him to speak once more. 

(Tethrin had used an insta-cast and chantless disrupt-type Spell to afford him only several seconds of quiet. It was the most Elven thing he'd ever witnessed.)

Then, after an overly dramatic show of coughing and clearing his throat, the firebearded King began detailing the troops the Free Nation had sent. 

...The numbers were vague and because the King kept repeating himself, it became somewhat confusing. 

The Free Nation's numbers *looked* respectable enough-- but, lacking a coherent report, he could only judge that with his eyes. 

They had the greatest variance in troops, with orcs, Titanbloods, and trolls mixed in with gnolls, humans, and beastkin. When the battle began, they'd normally split off into their cliques and attack as separate forces. However, the Commander, the former War Prince of Charm, was known for intermixing his troops to great effect. 

There was one clear point in King Guorthigirn's report-- and it wasn't a good one. There was a sizeable Free Nation force accounted for, but not yet present. 

The War Princess of Charm was leading a force of several thousand. And of that number were several elite forces: the Royal Guard of Black Opal Valley, the Witches of the Sapphire Tower, the Arena Fighters of the recently reformed Sol Invictus... and all that was on top of the Medusa Covens of Charm. 

But there was one among them with a reputation above all others.

The Ogreslayer.[2]

Murtana Ogreslayer was the name of an Adamantine-Rank gnoll warrior who slaughtered the ogres of the King Eater tribe for daring to threaten her mate and cubs. Though reportedly, she tried to deny the achievement, several War Nobles attested to her deeds. 

She was one of only a handful of Adamantine-Rank warriors in the entire Realm. And to, by herself, ruthlessly obliterate the King Eaters-- sparing not even the children or elderly... her strength was constantly compared to that of Ravidius the Lionhearted, the Hero of the previous generation.[3]

The current generation's Hero and the Ogreslayer were the most oft-talked-about champions of the Wyrmslayer Alliance. 

(Also, the Wyrmslayer.) 

"I look forward to the Ogreslayer's arrival," Tethrin nodded, the faintest traces of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Even with the myriad countermeasures we have prepared, our superiority is largely uncertain."

The androgynous elf took a breath before nodding once more. 

"As for the Eastern States, we have 12,000 heroes prepared to give their lives to save our Realm. And of those heroes, I was able to train 52 to the standards of Wyrmhunter Archer."

Domhnall found that... an odd notion, but a welcome one. 

Despite the Highblades' reputation as impossibly-skilled swordmasters, they were also masters in all aspects of war, including offensive magic and weapons of all kinds. If Tethrin of Highblade guaranteed that 52 of his archers rated the title of Dragonslayer-- or... Wyrmhunter, as he said, then that's what they were. 

"Regrettably," Tethrin continued, "but as advised, we have 2,500 more relegated to non-combat positions in the rear echelons."

Fates be damned, 2,500?! 

For what *possible* reason could a force of that *magnitude* be wholly absent from the front lines? 

"Prince of the Dawn," Virgilia interrupted. She bowed her head while putting her wings forward, the tips of her longest feathers touching. "This lowly servant humbly begs thee for knowledge."

For a moment, Domhnall was suspicious that Virgilia witnessed his confusion and spoke on his behalf.

--but that wasn't possible. 

His emotions had dulled over the years and of what little was left, they had no control over the muscles on his face. In fact, if he wanted to smile or appear to talk, it took him a great deal of effort and willpower. 

The way Virgilia had turned her head and winked at him, however... made him doubt his senses-- and greatly. 

"And I shall not deny you this knowledge, Daughter of the Four Winds," Tethrin frowned, "The 2,500 comprise elves over 100 years of age and other species known for a strong resistance against Domination magics... Among them, there are many powerful dovahkiin and planetouched worthy of song-- but their presence on the front lines is a risk far too perilous to take."

That... Domhnall already knew-- he just wasn't aware of the reasoning. 

Still, under those stipulations, that meant that Tethrin, too, would not be joining them. 

For whatever reason, the Elevn Blademaster was staring at him in silence. 

Domhnall nodded warily-- though he felt a bit slow, "[Understood... Sir.]"

"Nemayan Representative, attend to the Daughter of Wind in the coming battle."

Uh, sure. 

"[Why does everyone keep saying that?]"

Domhnall had mistakenly internalized the loud-part, speaking the quiet-part aloud. 

"A fortunate wind flows at thy back," Tethrin explained. 

--and that was all he said. 

Highblade tossed out a couple more empty, somewhat motivation platitudes, then gave the dismissal order. 

King Guorthigirn left right away, perhaps stifled overlong by those he viewed as superior. 

The elf and gnome went off, as well, stepping onto the magic tree stump and disappearing in two separate whirls of leaves. 

Domhnall stood in one spot, unable to let go of Tethrin's words. 

He said he was blessed by a 'fortunate wind.'

...Piecing together what he knew, it was possible that Virgilia being a 'daughter of the four winds' implied the two of them made a complementary team. 

How exactly that was, he had no clue. 

Domhnall did not consider himself a very lucky person-- especially for a man grounded in logic and rejecting superstitions of all kinds. 

And he wasn't interested in women... but he didn't find Virgilia as repulsive as a typical human or Titanblood woman. 

If he did, he would have strongly considered rejecting the advices of Masters Leafstrangle and Highblade. 

Virgilia-- she seemed equally perplexed by their unorthodox pairing: 

An elegant bird-woman the size of a human teenager and a lumbering zombie, twice her height and a dozen times her weight. 

Or was she staring for a different reason?

"[Lady Virgilia?]"

"Oh, my most humble apologies, Master Domhnall," the harpy bowed.

"[S-speak comfortably. Please.]"

It seemed that was how she spoke... but it was troublesome to the recipient of such formal speech. 

The young lady's lips cracked into a shy smile, "You don't have any hands."

Neither did she. 

Domhnall lifted up his forearms, showing off the enchanted blades secured to them, "[Hands are overrated.]"

They were having a conversation. That was good, as they were going to be partners in the coming battle. 

As Virgilia had rendered him a compliment, in order to continue the conversation, it was proper for Domhnall to compliment her in return. 

"You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen."

Virgilia's eyes widened in surprise-- and Domhnall realized he had spoken with his actual voice as opposed to his mana-voice. 

It was... not an attractive voice by human standards. 

...but the faint red on Virgilia's cheeks made Domhnall somehow doubt she was repulsed by it. 

"Shall... we return to the Nemayan troops, Master Domhnall?"

[1] #Dragonhawk: See Chapter 1050!

[2] Ogreslayer: See the events starting in Chapter 931 and ending in 933, Curse of the Ogre King!

[3] Ravidius was first introduced (by his daughter, Megara,) in Chapter 798.