Tyrant of the Ruined Sun
Chapter 94 - 94: Preparation, Skirmishes and the Seventeenth Dawn

"Maneuverability. That is what will determine the final outcome of this battle." My uncle stated.

"I figured as much from all that I had read." I replied, glancing at the stack of books and papers near my desk.

"Trust me the reality of the situation is far worse than whatever is on those old maps and journals." My uncle stressed his words gravely.

Frowning at his remark, I ask "How much worse?"

Sighing, he replied " During just today's scouting party alone I have found over a dozen paths, half of which lead to dead ends or would just double back in a confusing loop. While the few others that actually lead somewhere are so narrow that even two men walking shoulder to shoulder would feel cramped. And that's of course not counting the death traps these mountains so sadistically made; such as slippery mud roads that throw you off of several hundred meter cliffs, or the flash flood incidents that occur almost hourly in some passes we've discovered, or even the myriad of poisonous flora that are scattered every couple of steps you take! Honestly my dear boy... I don't see how we can conduct a battle in this terrain." He finished with another exasperated sigh and a sweep of his disheveled hair.

Hearing all this I simply recline further on my chair with a contemplative look, as I simply reply with "I see."

I, of course had known about some of this from all that I had gleamed from the numerous books and maps I had so thoroughly studied while on the road, but reading something from most likely long dead or retired explorers, and listening to a first hand account from someone who'd personally experienced it not an hour ago, were two very different things.

'It seems Maximillian isn't the only thing I will need to triumph over in this battle, I have to tame these mountains as well!' I thought annoyedly, as this would jeopardize my prior plans.

Originally, I had designed a strategy around the concept of relying on the terrain of the mountains, to conduct a series of fast, close quarters and highly aggressive battles with the main linchpin of this tactic being the newly created Hydra and Epirus Cannons which would be ideal for this situation. But now it seems unlikely for it work if the road quality is truly as horrific as he's described.

"Have you encountered any sign of Maximillian and his forces?" I asked.

"No, nothing." He answered.

"Perfect. Then tomorrow I will join you and the scouts up the canyon." I calmly declared.

My uncle paused for a moment, before saying "I suppose it can't be helped, you need to see it for yourself to form a proper plan."

"Indeed." I nod, happy that he did not try to persuade me against it.

"And your brothers, will you bring them along with us as well?" He worriedly asked.

"...What do you advise?" I asked in return, being unsure of the answer myself.

"Their purpose here is to learn how war is made, so if we are to fulfill that purpose they must also be witness to what we do tomorrow and all the days after. Besides, if we don't take them, I'm sure they will be displeased with us for a fair few days; especially that rascal Cyrus." He wisely said with a humorous tone, before continuing with a sly grin "But it wouldn't hurt to let them rest a few days after your demonic march, while we make sure that the mountains near the camp at least are completely safe and secure."

Chuckling, I reply "Then that's what we shall do."

And with that not so evil scheme we parted ways; I to my long awaited bed and my uncle to his own tent to rinse off the tire and filth of the day. But by the time the sun beams creeped their way into the pass the next morning, we'd already reentered that mountain maze.

My party consisted of the usual Abraham, Horus, Isaac and my Palace Guard but this time I was also accompanied by my uncle, Leonid, most of my high command, as well as Ain Kaff and his scout regiment.

The first thing I realized was that my uncle's words, if anything, were watered down. The dirt paths, which were clearly rudimentarily worked on by the men were rugged and mostly uneven, with overflowing and overgrown vegetation closing in on us from both sides.

The high stone walls incasing from all sides seemed sturdy, but it wouldn't take much from a high level mage or martial artist to bring them toppling down on our heads if we were careless. Even worse were the constant deviations we would encounter along the way, that constantly conspired to corrupt our sense of direction.

Eventually I ordered to halt our march and asked "Remind me Isaac, when were we supposed to return to camp today?"

"We should be back one hour before sun set, sire. So within eleven hours or so." He calmly answered.

"Scratch that schedule. We make camp here tonight." I decisively ordered before turning to Ain, saying "Captain, have some of your men return to camp and fetch us all we would need for the night. We will continue our work and meet up with them here in a few hours."

"Right away, sire." Ain saluted.

"Are you certain, sire? This could prove to be a safety risk, especially if we encounter the enemy's own vanguard or scouts." Horus cautiously whispered.

"We would have had to do this sooner or later, so it's fine. we'll have others handle any areas we missed." I replied.

"Yes, but..." My uncle tried to interject, sharing the same thoughts and worries as Horus, but I didn't let him.

"Uncle." I called out with a deadpan expression "You know as much as I that time is not something we have in abundance to spend on meticulousness. We need more information, as for the gaps we leave behind, those can be dealt with later by the soldiers, but our scouts must work double time so we can gleam any advantage there is to gain."

" Besides..." I momentarily paused, before breaking out with a toothy grin and continuing "I have with me here an entire scout regiment, most of my high command all of whom are veterans of a dozen campaigns, in addition to fifty Palace Guards; each at least in the fourth rank of martial arts, that's also not counting Horus who is in the seventh grade, as well as you, Uncle, who is in the eighth grade and that's not even mentioning Leonid, Abraham and Isaac all of whom are in the ninth grade. That's enough military power to occupy three small nations, let alone just to defend me."

A low chuckle escaped the men around us upon hearing my words.

My uncle sighed, before raising his hands in resignation, no longer pursuing the issue.

And so our expedition turned into a three day adventure, in which many things changed. The first of which was the strategy I had previously devised. The conditions were completely unable to handle the quick transportation of cannons, and I didn't have enough time for have my laborers and engineers to make right the current predicament.

So I changed gears and decided that since I will be unable to use the cannons on every front, I will use them on the most optimal positions, but to do this we had to first locate and identify these locations, and to do this we devised a whole new system.

We categorized the mountain paths into four groups, depending on their topography, ease of accessibility to our men in comparison to Maximillian's and it's threat level, which basically encompassed whether this certain path contained certain geographical dangers, such as flash floods or rock slides; if it had an excess of harmful fauna and flora and so on and so forth.

The first of these categories were the green paths, which were decently wide and were generally devoid of any threats or obstacles to our men. Excellent as supply routes, but I had an even better job for them.

I ordered our engineer corps to begin immediate construction on forts of stone and timber, which we so adequately named as Arterial Forts, along these paths for several reasons. Firstly as the name would imply, to be used to transport those most valued supplies to our scattered men across the mountains, in the same manner our own arteries send blood to all our organs in our bodies. Secondly it was to be used as barracks for the men to rest in, as well as supply storages. Thirdly, they were meant to be used as waypoints for any messengers carrying vital reports, so that they may change horses, possibly rest or simply have the message be delivered by Carrier Pigeon if the contents of the letter were of less significance. Fourthly, in the case of defeat our men need not scatter like flies across the mountains, to be killed off later by Maximillian and his men, they can simply rush back to these forts.

And finally, but certainly not least of all, they were to be hung like delicious bait for Maximillian's men to foolishly attack, allowing me to slaughter them wholesale without having to so much as exert lifting a finger's worth of effort looking for them in these treacherous paths.

The second of these categories were the blue paths, which were among the narrowest pathways we found. Perfect for defensive battles, as it allowed a mere thousand men to hold off a force a hundred times their number.

Next were the yellow paths, which were usually wider than the blue roads but far more dangerous, as many of them held unsteady soil that could easily shift beneath the soldiers' feet throwing them to the ground or worse, off the mountain and into their deaths. They were judged to be perfect terrain for ambushes. Especially since it was decided that one needed very little effort to utterly annihilate any foe upon these tracks, as the terrain itself would do most of the heavy lifting.

And finally were the red paths. Going through one of these was simply an elaborate form of execution. Sure men like Horus, Isaac, Leonid and the like would mostly be fine, but for the ordinary rank and file... these roads would mark their graves; so they were mostly avoided, with only a few patrols to keep a watch on them, just in case that dragon did something unexpected.

And so on the twilight hours of the eleventh day, under the swaying candle light surrounded by my most competent commanders, the plan was finalized. And by dawn the next day it was in full effect, yet one thing continued to worry me. Where was the enemy?

'This is too easy.' I thought to myself in concern.

Not a hint of Maximillian or his forces were discovered, no matter how far we explored, how deep we pushed, how boldly we advanced; it was always the same uncomfortable silence. That was until the fourteenth day; when we finally found our most elusive foe. Three men, carrying two others, who were unclear if they were dead or alive on their backs rushed from the thick brush, screaming for aid.

Their distressed calls both eased my worries and chilled me to the core. Fourteen days, the exact time he had announced when we last spoke, meaning that he was not in a hurry.

'Why is he so relaxed? Does he think me an easy target?' I furiously thought.

'No.' I instantly answered myself 'Though I may not possess the previous glories I once enjoyed, that doesn't mean that I could be so easily underestimated.'

'Could it be that he wants to achieve a psychological victory early on?' I suddenly thought, but then shook my head 'Maybe, but that seems unlikely to be his only reason.'

'So what is it? What gives you such confidence, Maximillian? What are you hiding?' I incessantly rambled in the confines of my own mind, thinking and thinking yet nothing truly seemed to stand out, there were simply too many possibilities; all of whom were equally as conceivable and unconceivable at the same time.

'Forget it, I'll deal with it when the time arrives.' I eventually resigned, deciding to trust in plan.

And so it was for the next few days, a blur of constant hectic work, occasionally interrupted by small skirmishes that occurred between unsuspecting scouting parties on both sides; that only rarely left wounded and even rarer did they produce corpses.

This continued until the promised day came, the seventeenth dawn. The day the famous battle that would later be known as the Dragons' First Duel would commence.