"Hold the line?" Jero spat angrily, "Do you plan to just watch as the warriors of the Kingdom die?"
"Of course not, but it’s far too dark now, and we don’t even know who the enemy is. Have you considered the consequences of a rash attack, Giant General?" Prince Oli said gravely.
Jero knew that Oli made sense. He was a renowned general of the Dwarf Kingdom, celebrated for his strategic expertise and calm deanor in battle.
However, he found his emotions spiraling out of control tonight, having never encountered such a bizarre situation in his many years of command.
The sudden Fire teor, White Light Pillar, and monsters with glowing eyes had completely thrown him into a panic—only starting to regain his composure after Oli reminded him.
Just then, Aragon’s n, whom he had sent out earlier, returned with eight wild n, the chieftains of the eight largest tribes of the Dragon Ridge Mountain Range.
Since Jero had always been wary of these wild n, he had not allowed them to share a camp with his soldiers.
As a result, the wild n suffered little loss. Jero asked the chieftains,
"Do you know what kind of monsters launched the attack on us?"
"Those are Ghosts, their eyes can glow," the chieftain of the Giant Palm Tribe, Lie Yan, answered.
"Ghosts?" Jero was unfamiliar with the na, a hint of skepticism flashing in his eyes, "Why have I never heard of them, and you never warned that there were Ghosts in the mountains."
"That’s because the legend of the Ghosts is very old, their last appearance was an event from thousands of years ago," Qingsui, the chieftain of the Wildfire Tribe, said. "We never thought we would see these creatures again."
"Are you sure those things are truly Ghosts?" Aragon couldn’t help but interject, "I’ve fought them, and apart from a pair of glowing eyes, they seem no different from ordinary humans."
"That’s because they originally were humans, or rather, they were humans before death,"
This ti, Da Bu, the chieftain of the Shattered Star Tribe, was the one who spoke, continuing on with the teaching he had received from Li Yu beforehand.
"Most Ghosts are transford from humans. In a group of Ghosts, there is often a Demon King, who curses others and turns them into beings similar to himself.
"Right, the places where Ghosts are found often coincide with strange Light Pillars and Fire teors."
Jero felt that sothing was amiss, but seeing the wild n’s earnest assurances, he eventually accepted their explanation.
He then asked, "Do you know how to deal with those... um, Ghosts?"
"Ghosts cannot be killed," stated Lie Yan with a grave face. "Because they are already the dead. Even if you knock them down now, they will rise from the ground again after a while.
"The only way to kill them for good is to use a wooden spear made of fir, piercing their hearts."
"This is too difficult," Aragon said imdiately, "Many of them are still wearing Armor."
Jero also thought the idea was terrible, but with the Ghosts’ ferocious onslaught, and if what the wild n said was true that they couldn’t be killed, then that would be a big problem.
Furthermore, there were fir trees in the vicinity, so Jero dispatched several squads to cut down trees, planning to quickly make so wooden spears.
Additionally, Jero had the Wildling leaders gather their tribe’s warriors to assist the over ten thousand strong army that was engaged in a tough battle.
The Wildling leaders weren’t very willing to fight against the legendary Ghosts upon hearing this; so claid it was too dark for their warriors to see anything at night, while others asked Jero for more ti to organize their troops.
Jero had spent half his life dealing with these Wildlings and knew them inside out; by looking at their deanor, he could tell that their reluctance wasn’t due to their unwillingness but because they hadn’t seen enough benefits.
Jero was nearly laughed at their greediness; what ti was this to be calculating such ager benefits? If they didn’t deal properly with the Ghosts, and the Dwarf Army was defeated, did the Wildlings really think they could escape?
But at that mont, he couldn’t be bothered to scold these short-sighted Wildlings anymore and simply asked, "What do you want?"
"Food," Qingsui imdiately answered. "We want enough food for our tribe to get through this winter."
"Fine," Jero agreed readily, "as long as you bring people to fend off those Ghosts right now, after this battle is over, you’ll have as much food as you want."
After obtaining the promise from the Dwarf General, the Wildling tribal leaders were satisfied and went back to rally their people, even borrowing forty wooden spears before they left.
anwhile, Jero didn’t idle around after that; he had Aragon continue gathering the scattered soldiers to retreat to their location.
He was now bent on salvaging as many n as possible.
And with the Wildlings stepping in, the pressure on the Dwarves finally lessened a bit, giving Aragon and the others more ti to collect survivors on the battlefield and organize a retreat.
However, the good tis didn’t last long; before Jero could catch his breath, he noticed that the nearby screams seed to be getting fainter.
Initially, Jero thought this was a good sign, indicating that the Dwarves were gradually taking the initiative back, but then he saw that the sixteen Light Pillars were still moving unstoppably towards them.
The Dwarf General realized the assault of the Ghosts hadn’t slowed down at all; in fact, it had beco even more fierce.
Jero couldn’t help but burst into curses, "What the hell are those Wildlings doing?! Why haven’t they stopped the Ghosts yet?"
As his voice trailed off, those eerie Light Pillars suddenly all vanished from sight.
But shortly after, they reappeared, now only two or three hundred steps away from them.
Jero was now genuinely anxious, and he also noticed that it had been a long ti since Aragon and his n had returned, which raised another ominous premonition in his heart.
The only consolation was that in such a short ti, the people he had sent to chop fir trees had made one hundred wooden spears.
The Dwarven people truly were natural craftsn; although most of the wooden spears were crude, barely more than sharpened pointed sticks, their efficiency was impressive.
No sooner had Jero distributed these hundred wooden spears to the front-line Dwarf Warriors than he saw those useless Wildlings running back in total disarray.
Jero sent people to stop them, but for so reason, the Wildlings drew their weapons and turned on those trying to stop them, knocking them to the ground.
Not to say their venture was entirely fruitless; they had gathered quite a few weapons, most of which belonged to the Dwarf Warriors.
While running, they also shouted, "It’s over, it’s over; the Mountain Spirit is coming!"
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