Chapter 111: The Meaning of Shoveling (2)

Rumble…

The ground started to shake from the east, beyond the eastern range that soared high, from the valleys nestled between the peaks to the rugged hills and nameless rocks under the ridge, and along the hunting grounds at the foot of the mountain, the mine, the logging area, the road, and the fields. There came an unfamiliar and heavy shaking of the ground. At last, the tremor traveled up from the horses’ hooves through saddle, armor, waist, and chest.

“They are here.”

“Hmm.”

Sir Blanc nodded at the aide’s words. His green eyes traveled to the range east to the Frontera barony. The unfamiliar and thudding shaking was coming from there.

“Truly, are they Mastodons?”

Just then, Sir Blanc recalled the visit last night. Lloyd Frontera came to him.

“The Mastodons will sweep over our fiefdom probably tomorrow or the day after that.”

And so, Sir Blanc asked how on earth he knew about it. To that, Lloyd simply smiled and said that it was obvious.

Obvious? How did he predict that?

He couldn’t comprehend it. As far as he knew, Lloyd didn’t dispatch a patrol team to the eastern range. For the past few days, Lloyd was solely focused on supervising the construction. And yet, he acted as though he had a third eye watching everything. So, it was difficult for Sir Blanc to trust his prediction right away. It was still the case this early morning. After breakfast time, Sir Blanc scoffed at the predicament as he washed his face. See? Nothing is happening, he had told himself that.

But now, he knew his doubts had been unnecessary. When it was noon, as if Lloyd and the monsters had struck a deal, there came from the distant mountain range in the east a low yet heavy shaking of the ground. It was the type of shaking that came when a hoard of heavy animals marched in unison, fearlessly shattering every tree and rock that stood in their way. There could only be one thing that could produce such vibration, and it was the flock of Mastodon, the giant herbivore that lived in the wilderness.

Judging by the intensity of the ground shaking, it looks like they will show up soon.

A 13-foot monster that looked like a mix of rhinoceros and elephant. Hundreds of them would hurtle into this place soon.

That’s the way the Mastodons move.

Clench! Sir Blanc gripped the lance hard. Internally, he predicted how the coming battle would unfold.

The herd will come from the east to the west, charging into the barony right away. So the most efficient response on our part with the given capability is a head-on fight.

The White Cavalry would take the front and hurtle right toward the herd of charging Mastodons. They would pierce their frontal leg joint after dodging their tusks and horns.

It’s important to block the one in the very front in order to disrupt and confuse the entire rest of the herd. That would naturally bring a stop to their stampede.

From then on, the knights would circle around the herd of immobilized Mastodons and gallop round and round, killing them with the lances. Like peeling an onion, those monsters would be killed one by one until the entire herd was slaughtered.

It’s fully possible. We can pull it off if the soldiers in the Frontera barony offer us proper support and stay within the file.

Sir Blanc predicted in his head how the battle would end.

The herd of Mastodon will be massacred to the hilt. As for us, the White Cavalry… We will probably lose around twenty to thirty knights.

About 30 casualties among the 500. It was a considerable amount of damage. But Sir Blanc clamped his mouth shut.

It doesn’t matter. If that is the result of our best efforts, so be it. I’ll be content. For that is our honor.

This battlefield was chosen under the orders of the monarch. They were now protecting the land from the invasion of monsters. And so, death was not to be feared in such battles.

“Everyone, get ready to take charge. We shall remain here on standby until we receive a signal. That’s when we move forward at once.”

“Yes, sir!”

500 knights of the White Cavalry, who were in the middle of the fiefdom, loudly responded in harmony. They held up the white lance at the same time. Just then, a messenger appeared in the distance, rushing toward Sir Blanc. He was sent by the baron to share the message that caught Sir Blanc by surprise.

“Whew!” the messenger panted when he arrived. “I have the order from the baron… Every single man of the White Cavalry is to leave this place at once and stand by near the southern border of the Maritz land with a lance and shovel.”

“What?” Sir Blanc’s beard quirked in disdain. “What do you mean that we should wait at the southern border? What about the charge?”

“The baron orders that direct confrontation must be avoided at all costs.”

“Then how’s he going to-”

“Do you,” the messenger said, “see the white rock on the ridge in the east?”

“Yes.”

“Master Lloyd is over there.”

“Lloyd Frontera? What is he doing over there?”

“He will be commanding the operation from there. He directed you to take over the designated location in the south and wait until you see the blue flag go up on the rock over there. That is when you must make a ‘slow’ procession toward the north,” the messenger explained.

“Slow? But we are up against Mastodons. Are you sure he didn’t mean to gallop at full speed or relentlessly charge forward?” Sir Blanc said in disbelief.

“Yes, I am sure. He instructed you to proceed slowly as you produce a thick sandstorm and drum the lance with your shovel for distraction.”

“But why…”

Sir Blanc’s face turned stoic and cold. The whole thing was absurd. How could the baron call for a slow procession when we are facing the Mastodons? And what? Make dust and noise instead of roaring as we charge ahead?

“Are you utmost certain that you received the proper order?” Sir Blanc asked incredulously.

“Yes, sir,” the messenger assured, “I am certain. Oh, Master Lloyd sent another message which he emphasized that I must relay it to you.”

“Must relay it to me? What could it be?”

“‘The time has come for the six-day shoveling to pay off.’ was his message.”

“…”

Sir Blanc’s mouth shut itself as he recalled the shoveling they had done the past six days.

“I see… I shall follow the order.”

“Thank you, sir. Well then.”

The messenger bowed and went away. Sir Blanc led his men right away, and throughout the southward travel, he cocked his head to the side in confusion.

Will the operation be effective?

A piece of memory interrupted his mind just then. It was probably one night about a week ago. Lloyd’s shovel fired an outburst of mana that shot straight for dozens of yards. Sir Blanc had never seen anything like it. It seemed more powerful than the aura of a sword master Sir Blanc had seen a couple of times. And with that, he lost the bet. Afterward, he grabbed the shovel per the request of Lloyd, making sure that his men did the same thing. Just like that, they moved according to his instructions.

And we shoveled… for six days straight.

That was all they really did. They laid the ground as ordered. They dug as they were instructed. They transferred soil, stacked it up, and flattened it. At first, no one could guess what they were constructing. But four days passed to reveal the outline of the result of their toil.

It was a massive sculpture installed on a surface.

A 492 x 328-foot flat surface, which was sloped by 15 degrees to the west, was built at first. After that, the shoveling continued. They transferred the volcanic ash to the soil ground. It was covered and flattened. Next, they either scraped or thickened the ground, depending on Lloyd’s instruction. Sometimes, they poured water to solidify the soil. This process continued to slowly build up a gigantic image of a monster. The mammoth herbivore “Megalania” inhabits the wilderness.

So I went up to Lloyd and complained.

That this won’t work. This wasn’t a proper defense. When Sir Blanc explicitly questioned him, Lloyd responded…

“Doing so will be more effective for defense than stacking up a wall with the same amount of soil. I’m sure about it this time.”

But Sir Blanc wasn’t convinced. That carved-out image on the surface would block a herd of Mastodons?

And not enough with that, he now prevents us from charging straight into the herd. What in the world is he thinking?

Sir Blanc was tormented throughout his journey to the south. For the cavalry, the timing to rush toward the enemy was never random. In fact, finding the perfect timing was actually more important when they were fighting against monsters. Lloyd was about to waste such a golden opportunity for reasons Sir Blanc could not grasp.

He’s not doing this because of some superstition, is he?

Sir Blanc nibbled his lips, and his gaze, which contained an abundance of concern, moved toward the white rock where Lloyd was.

This plan. I wonder if it will be effective.

“Effective? Of course, it is.”

Lloyd chuckled, convinced that everything would take place exactly the way he predicted. Much like his prediction that Mastodon would be the second wave of the monsters to charge into the barony.

“Were you confident about all this?” It was Javier who asked.

“Yeah.” Lloyd nodded his head.

“But how could you be so convinced?” asked Javier.

“Simple. I am smart.”

Javier ignored Lloyd.

“Just kidding. I looked through some documents,” Lloyd stated.

“Documents?”

“Yeah, this one.”

Lloyd tapped an old booklet and dusted off its cover. Javier noticed that the leathery cover was entitled “Illustrations of Monsters in the Eastern Wilderness.”

“I found this in the study. It organized the list of the monsters and their nature. So I read and took notes of the content,” Lloyd said.

“And the result is today’s operation?” asked Javier.

“Yeah.”

Lloyd nodded eagerly, but the truth was that he was lying. He did refer to a book. But that illustrated book wasn’t the only book he had referred to.

Truth be told, there is another very useful book. The Knight of Blood and Iron. Haha.

The illustrated book he had told Javier about actually fell short of being a solid reference for him to devise a plan. But there was a reason why he had lied to Javier.

Because I need clear proof and reason for being smart.

It was only natural. Groundless ingenuity. Mysterious smarty-pants. Lloyd couldn’t afford to be viewed in such ways. What would happen if he acted as if he knew everything about this place when there was nothing for him to study? What would happen if he got everything right about the future as though he was Sherlock Holmes? At first, he might get praised. But it would be different later on.

People would become suspicious of me eventually. They aren’t fools.

As such, Lloyd regarded that his ingenuity should be backed by something that people in this world could easily accept.

It’s convenient to live free from suspicion.

A suspicion-free fiefdom. A life full of trust. Lloyd believed in that motto. So, he spoke.

“I must have told you before that this is happening because of the monster domino phenomenon. Just imagine what monsters would come after the locusts. It’s obvious. Those that live in a herd, mobilize fast, are at the bottom of the food chain, and are strong enough to climb over the eastern range.”

“Mastodons,” Javier said.

“Yes, that’s it.”

That was as far as Lloyd referred to in the illustrated book. The following preparation and planning were based on The Knight of Blood and Iron.

After all, he wasn’t a genius. He was not Sherlock Holmes, either. He just had a bit more access to information. That was the only upper hand Lloyd had compared to the people here.

Anyway, the short mention of the hunting custom by the orcs in the novel helped me a lot.

Lloyd recalled in the novel. Orc tribes used an enormous plate of Megalania when they hunted down the Mastodons. And being brainless and cautious beasts, the Mastodons judged that the plate was the real Megalania and ran away to the other side just in case. They took precautions first before judging. Orcs smartly made good use of their nature by installing the traps in the direction those monsters rush ahead to for safety.

“So watch how the trap is set from now on. Watch closely.”

Lloyd pointed to the side with his chin. Just then, the ground shaking amplified by a notch. It became nearer. Hundreds of trees in the area shook and fell. At last, the herd of Mastodons appeared.

“Gwoahhh!”

Crash! Rumble!

A 13-foot body with a horn of a rhinoceros, tusk of an elephant, and a head of a bison. The Mastodon. Hundreds of the monsters came rampaging down the foot of the eastern range. They crossed the hunting and logging site, trampling on the fields. In particular, the one in the far front, the leader of the herd, thought to itself as it breathed out heavily. It felt nice to stampede on a flat surface after climbing the range. And unlike the wilderness, there were nice patches of greenery here and there. And for the time being, they didn’t have to worry about the incoming mating season as they could happily run around the grass to their heart’s content. The leader Mastodon glared at the barony, its eyes bloodshot. And at last, it saw.

“Gwoak…?”

Right in the middle of the human fiefdom. It saw the image of its archenemy there. The horrendous predator Megalania, whose staple was very themselves. Its mouth was elongated like a crocodile. Fangs stuck out in between its lips. Skin so thick that their horns couldn’t penetrate into it. And its claws were made special for tearing the belly skin of its prey. The double whammy was that the Megalania standing over there was at least three times bigger than what the Mastodons had in mind. Moreover, it sat crouching to its side, which was a hunting position distinct to Megalania!

“Gwoa! Gwoak!”

The leader Mastodon was taken aback and couldn’t figure out what the Megalania was doing in human territory. It couldn’t believe it. But at the same time, it couldn’t deny what it was seeing. That was how lifelike the Megalania sculpture covered up in the soil and volcanic ash was. It looked as if the Megalania would pounce and snap its back in one chomp. The leader Mastodon was terrified even though it thought that the Megalania could be fake. But when it considered the slim possibility that the predator was indeed real, fear swept over its whole existence. It didn’t want to die. Eventually, the leader made the decision to opt for safety, which was in line with its nature.

“Gwoack! Oak!”

Slide! Halt!

The Mastodon stopped in its tracks to the west. The same went for the rest of the herd that followed behind. And just like that, dismay and chaos descended on the herd as they were lost in direction. It was just then…

“Now! Raise the blue flag!” shouted Lloyd.

Javier lifted the huge flag. The blue flag swayed over the white rock. Sir Blanc, who was waiting at the entrance of the southern part of the Maritz land, saw it clearly.

The operation worked? I never thought the Mastodons would stop at the image etched on the ground…

Sir Blanc was clueless, indeed. This was true even when he had been shoveling for the construction.

Is it because of the slope toward the east?

The ground was sloped up by 15 degrees. The Mastodons charged down from the range, which meant that they were gazing downward. So, those two angles must have compounded to make the image more real and lifelike in the eyes of the bison-like beasts. Sir Blanc postulated such. But he immediately snapped out of his reverie as he had a job to do right now. Thinking of the order he had received, he shouted…

“We shall march forward! Hold up your shovels and lances!”

Clip clop! Clip clop!

The 500 lancers moved, clip-clopping and trotting as they moved forward under the order. They marched, each of their steps creating as much sand dust as per the prior command. And they didn’t forget to clang the lance and shovel aloud with both of their hands.

Clang! Clash! Clang!

They slowly progressed toward the north, creating a loud cacophony. This brought about an unexpected reaction from the herd of Mastodons.

“Gwoack!”

The leader cried out at length, and it started to dart off to the north.

Is the threat working?

The monsters were now on the run. Unbeknownst to Sir Blanc, the Mastodons would have shown an opposite reaction from the current one if Sir Blanc had opted to stick with his initial plan of hurtling toward them. The knights’ excessive threat would have awakened the defensive instinct of the monsters and prompted them to fight back. But now, it was different. The knights pressured the Mastodons just with the sand, dust, and noise. It worked very well. The Megalania in the distance stirred fear among the Mastodons. And the nearing sandstorm and din. The two things work together to push those monsters to run away.

Hold on. There is a connected passageway dug deep in the north and south… Where the monsters are heading now… No way.

Sir Blanc was enlightened at last. What lay in the destination of these charging Mastodons was the very place he and his knights shoveled their heads off for the last six days. Certainly, they didn’t shovel out the ground with a certain purpose in mind. They simply followed Lloyd’s instructions. They dug and filled as told. Just like that, they shoveled out the soil to make the foundation of the Megalania image. But the result? There came about a long and deep hole that was likened to a canal.

But that hole… its southern and northern end almost touched the river that flowed by the Maritz land… Wait a minute. Did he really…?!

Just then, a hunch flashed through his mind, and things started to piece together. One by one, each piece was assembled and jumbled to reveal the final picture. The trap. Sir Blanc shuddered as the epiphany struck his mind. He turned toward the white rock on the eastern mountain range. A white flag was waving as though it was confirming his prediction. Then he immediately noticed a fantastical creature, which was likened to the summon creature, that rolled from the south toward the herd of the Mastodons.

“Hamang!”

And there began the water attack.