Chapter 57: Chapter 57: Ambush
White Feather Canyon.
The wind howled past from the heights, stirring up fine dust.
On a concealed high ground, Yorn lay behind a rock, whispering to Louis beside him, "Boss... are you sure the Snow Swearers will pass through here?"
Today, they set off before dawn, bringing knights and soldiers, bypassing the main road, and entering this strategically complex canyon.
Then they busied themselves all day.
For instance, setting up barbed tripwire traps in the narrow passages, burying steel cables and iron hooks amidst the grass and rubble.
And on the high ground on both sides, they dug rockfall paths, securing boulders at the cliff tops, ready to roll down into the valley with a push.
Louis personally inspected every location, even arranging three escape routes.
They didn’t want a fight to the death, but an ambush, ideally without casualties.
Even if something unexpected happened, they had to retreat safely.
But until the sunset dyed the cliffs red, the mouth of the canyon remained empty.
Not even a bird flew in to crap.
Yorn couldn’t sit still anymore, muttering under his breath, "Boss, didn’t you get some fake information? If we’ve been tricked, we..."
"Shut up." Louis didn’t turn around, just said two words flatly.
"Oh." Yorn wisely kept quiet.
Louis stared at the pass below, and added, "They’re almost here."
Louis’s confidence wasn’t unfounded.
The source was the daily intelligence updated three days ago.
"An estimated thirty Snow Oath Warriors are expected to pass through the northern pass of White Feather Canyon in the late afternoon three days from now."
Yorn squatted behind a rock, looking at the empty canyon, clicking his tongue in boredom.
"Will they really come," he muttered, "or is Boss being played for a fool..."
He sneaked a glance at Louis standing on the high ground not far away; Louis was composed, not a bit nervous.
Yorn was about to complain again when suddenly a faint horse’s hoof beat sounded from the woods at the bottom of the canyon.
"...?"
He jerked his head up, frowning and listening carefully.
Another echo of hoofbeats came clearly, and it wasn’t just one horse, but a whole team!
Yorn instantly perked up, almost jumping up, "Wha-What the hell... there really are!?"
He quickly ducked back behind the rock, his face full of disbelief, "Boss, you foresaw this like a god?!"
Louis didn’t respond, staring intently at the canyon entrance.
At the northern entrance of the canyon, a team silently crossed through.
They wore dark-colored leather armor and iron shoulder guards, with most of their upper body muscles exposed, wielding various weapons: heavy axes, spears, even battered Empire-made lances.
But each of their eyes were like ferocious beasts.
Silent, alert, full of murderous intent.
This was an elite warrior unit under the command of the Snow Swearers, though their equipment was rough.
They weren’t ordinary wandering bandits like typical Snow Swearers, but well-trained fierce hounds.
Their individual strength was at least that of a mid-tier Official Knight in the Ironblood Empire’s power structure.
The leading warrior reined in, scanning the terrain of the canyon ahead, and said in a low voice, "This place... is too quiet."
Another one grinned, "Afraid of what? The trash nobility’s unit has just gathered, and today we’re just here to show them who’s boss."
This operation was ordered to cut in from the north entrance and launch a surprise attack on a nobility reinforcement unit that was assembling.
Such swift and fierce actions were a common tactic used by the Snow Swearers.
In their eyes, this was just a routine decapitation mission.
They were long accustomed to launching surprise attacks at dawn or dusk, trampling the lands of those invaders under their steeds.
Just then, the leading Snow Oath Warrior suddenly reined in, the horse hooves had barely touched the ground when they tensed abruptly.
With a snap, the barbed tripwire hidden under the dirt sprung up suddenly.
The iron hook wrapped around the horse’s leg like a snake, pulling it forward with a tug, sending man and horse stumbling ahead.
"Whoa!" Several nearby warhorses screamed in alarm, some even throwing their riders off, rolling through the dust.
Metal hooks embedded into iron armor, emitting a screeching friction sound, blood seeping from the horse’s leg.
A brief chaos exploded in the canyon, hooves clattered chaotically, dust roiled.
The Snow Swearers immediately reacted.
They leaped nimbly from their horses, rolled swiftly, drew swords, turned, and formed ranks with smooth movements.
No screams, no panic.
Their eyes were cold as beasts, instinctively sensing something wrong.
"Trap," the leading warrior said softly.
From the tripwire’s activation to restoring order took only a few seconds.
The atmosphere was suddenly tense, the previously steady marching rhythm severed by an invisible blade.
They realized they had fallen into a trap, though they didn’t know who set it.
In the middle of the formation, several warriors drew longbows, quickly aiming at the cliffs on both sides, while the others guarded the middle, with longswords, war axes, and long spears interlocked in circular defense.
The sound of sword blades striking against iron armor echoed through the formation.
No orders were given, yet everyone silently switched modes, as if they were mere travelers moments ago, now transformed into hunters.
The leader of these Snow Oath Warriors slowly drew a greatsword, whispering, "Prepare to engage."
And just then, a brief command echoed from above the canyon: "Take action!"
Before the command ended, above the cliffs, stone wheels spun, releasing crude chutes and letting loose boulders.
Crack—crack—
Heavy rumbling shook the mountain, several boulders roaring down from the cliff tops.
They sped through the preset chutes, faster and faster, crushing the air with terrifying pressure, crashing forcefully towards the Snow Oath Warriors at the canyon’s bottom.
"Watch the top!" someone shouted angrily.
However, before the words finished, the first boulder struck the formation heavily!
Boom!
A warrior was too slow, hit by a boulder as large as a carriage wheel, his heavy armor instantly twisted and deformed, sending him flying and smashing into the canyon wall, blood splattering the stone surface.
"Damn it!" Another Snow Oath warrior rolled awkwardly into the defensive circle of his comrades.
More boulders descended like the scythes of death, accompanied by the roar of destruction, crashing into their ranks. Fragments scattered, warhorses neighed in terror, and the sound of splitting iron armor mixed with the tumult.
Billowing dust rose, instantly plunging the entire canyon into chaos.
"Formation! Maintain formation!" the captain shouted sternly, his voice piercing through the dust cloud.
These Snow Oath Warriors were not a rabble; even when ambushed, they maintained discipline.
Several experienced warriors quickly assessed the terrain, leading the unit away from the main attack direction of the falling rocks to prevent being completely crushed.
Though momentarily suppressed, their focus only sharpened.
In the chaotic dust, the captain squinted, his gaze coldly sweeping across the surroundings.
The ambushers would not rely solely on falling rocks to deal with them; the real battle was just beginning.