Chapter 391: WAR (03)

There was a huge difference between the modern wars Ethan knew from Earth and the wars fought on Estria.

On Earth, modern conflicts tended to drag on across long, entrenched battle lines, and major engagements capable of deciding everything were rare.

Almost always, they were long, endless skirmishes that stretched on for months or even years with no clear end in sight.

On Estria, things were quite different.

For a large Empire, with immense logistical power and an absurd number of men of fighting age, wars lasted a very long time, involving dozens—sometimes hundreds—of battles and sieges.

In the small conflicts between Lords, however, the scenario was completely different. One or two sieges, perhaps one or two major battles, were enough to decide everything.

It was not uncommon for these wars to end in a single head-on clash, with one side being crushed once and for all.

The war Ethan was waging now was of this type.

Once he won this battle, the conflict would essentially be over, and his soldiers would only need to secure control of the cities belonging to the rival Lords.

None of those cities would have the time or capacity to muster an army to resist Goldenveil, so the war would indeed be decided in a single battle.

The night following the arrival of the First and Second Legions of the Goldenveil army at the designated location passed without incident.

Third-stage experts took turns keeping watch, while scouts closely monitored the greenskin horde and the allied army, reporting the position of both to the main camp every hour.

Thanks to this system, there was no reason to fear a surprise attack, and the soldiers were able to sleep peacefully.

The situation was quite different for the allied and greenskin forces, who were still marching deep into the night and would arrive at the battlefield completely exhausted.

The next morning, the men woke early and began preparing the ground.

The trenches dug around the camp were flooded with water, turning the terrain in front of the army into a layer of slippery, treacherous mud.

The camp itself stood atop a completely leveled hill.

The water summoned by the mages accompanying Ethan filled the trenches and flowed down the slope, mixing with the earth and forming muddy puddles along the way.

Only the summit, where Goldenveil’s soldiers were positioned, remained completely dry.

To reach it, any enemy would have to wade through a veritable hell of black mud.

Surrounding the camp, the trenches were two meters wide and one and a half meters deep, lined with sharp stakes hidden beneath the muddy water, ready to impale anyone who tried to force their way through.

Eight thousand men, divided into sixteen cohorts and eighty centuries, occupied the vanguard just behind the trenches.

The First Legion took the left flank; the Second Legion, the right. Each set aside one thousand men to protect the rear, ready to respond to a possible encirclement, which was quite likely given the enormous difference in numbers between the armies.

For this reason, the centuries stationed in the rear of the vanguard remained on full alert, ready to move at any moment and reinforce the rear lines.

Meanwhile, Ethan’s tent stood completely isolated from the rest of the camp, sealed off by a spell of physical and acoustic separation.

A vast carpet stretched across the floor, covered with soft mattresses and cozy elven blankets.

Ethan lay in the center of it all, with Amelia nestled to his left and Evelyn to his right.

On his chest, Mireya slept curled up, her heavy, warm body pressed firmly against his, her breathing slow and deep.

Around them, the other mages and knights of the Golden Rose Guard slept peacefully, their bodies still flushed and warm, sated by the long night of pleasure they had shared.

Slowly, Ethan’s eyes opened.

His left hand rested on Amelia’s gigantic, pale breasts, his fingers half-sunk into that milky, generous fullness. The soft skin felt like velvet beneath his touch, warm and supple, molding effortlessly to the shape of his hand.

His right hand cupped Evelyn’s full, tanned breast, his palm submerged in that cinnamon-colored flesh, warm and dense, heavy in a way that only the ripest fruit could be.

He clenched his fingers firmly, squeezing both women’s breasts at the same time.

The soft mounds molded themselves between his fingers, spilling out through the gaps in his hand in plump, pillowy swells, while the already-hard nipples slid along the line of his palm, sending a shiver rippling through both sleeping bodies.

"Ah~~ E-Ethan!" Amelia moaned softly, her voice sweet and drawn out by sleep.

"Nghnnn~~" Evelyn merely moaned, writhing slightly, her eyes fluttering open in sleepy confusion.

Ethan smiled, satisfied, letting his gaze wander around the tent.

Dozens of women, each a unique beauty, alluring and sensual in her own way, lay scattered around him, their naked bodies intertwined atop the crumpled silk.

That night, no one had felt the cold.

He really needed to make sure that his beautiful mages and the guards of the Golden Rose always accompanied him on campaign.

Unfortunately, Ethan’s happiness couldn’t last long. From outside the tent, Doran’s firm voice echoed.

"My lord, the greenskin army is just minutes away. The battle is about to begin."

Ethan grunted softly and, with a sigh, released Evelyn and Amelia’s breasts. His hands slid slowly down Mireya’s body, palms gliding over the smooth expanse of her back before coming to rest on the death knight’s plump, generous buttocks.

He gave one of them a gentle pat.

The squishy, plump flesh quivered beneath his palm, a heavy ripple rolling across the length of her buttock before sinking back into the deep softness.

That was enough to signal to Mireya that it was time to wake up.

She let out a deep, sweet grunt, slowly opening her eyes.

Still a little groggy, it took her a few seconds to get her bearings. Realizing that the time for battle had come, she forced herself to leave the comfort of Ethan’s warm body, sliding to the side with obvious reluctance.

Her heavy breasts dragged slowly across his chest as she moved, the soft weight of them flattening and reshaping against his skin, while her nipples—still sensitive from the night before—stiffened in the cool morning air.