Book 2, Chapter 197 (1/2)

Raging Flames(2)

Gangdor and Medium Rare exchanged a glance, leaping into the fray without another word to begin a wanton massacre. The four gods of death showed off their might, leaving most of the dwarves dead before the barbarians could even draw close.

Richard was astonished; he had never expected this situation. These dwarven gunmen were only level 5 on average, and without any ammunition in their guns his four followers were far too powerful for them to bear. Outside of Phaser who was stabbing enemies one by one, the rest were harvesting lives in batches.

“Leave a few of them alive!” Richard commanded immediately, both mentally and with a loud yell. Only then did they hold back.

Disregarding the accident with the dwarves, Richard had killed the great mage while most of the cavalry were exterminated as well. The Red Cossack caravan was at the end of the line, and all that was left was a one-sided massacre. Their leader had been level 14, but Gangdor, the trolls, Zendrall, and Waterflower had all ganged up on him in the middle of the battle. Having fought side by side for so long, the entire party had developed good chemistry. After the battle with Sinclair, they also knew to eliminate the opponent’s powerhouses first.

The battle ended very quickly. Most of the remaining guards and merchants chose to surrender, while those who were stubborn ended up dead. Richard’s army was normally full of enthusiasm for such massacres. They suffered few casualties, but many of the enemies had died. Even though Richard called for them to stop almost immediately, less than ten of the dwarven gunmen had survived.

Richard took his horse in a circle through the battlefield, studying the situation before giving out a stream of orders, “Check the carriages, look for prisoners, heal the wounded! Also, bring me all the dwarves!”

The ten dwarven gunmen were pulled before Richard, all with huge bruises on their faces. Dwarves had terrible tempers and were very stubborn; they kept muttering under their breaths even after they were taken captive. Naturally, the desert warriors escorting them were no gentlemen. A few kicks and punches served well enough to calm them down.

“Who are you? Where did you come from? Why was a Red Cossack caravan here?” Richard asked in Faelor common.

All the dwarves began talking at once, but none of them were speaking in common so Richard did not understand a word. He immediately cast a language comprehension spell, listening hard for a long while before he barely understood the language.

These dwarves all came from the Ashen Plateau, one of the largest stretches of the dark world in Faelor. Deep into the Plateau were kingdoms of many non-human races. These fellows came from the largest dwarven tribe, the Anvil of Lightning.

A team of slavers from Red Cossack had run into the Anvil of Lightning, coercing them with alcohol, gold, and other luxury items to sell all their ore. A company of gunmen had also been sent out as mercenaries.