Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 435 The Great Alliance Marches Forward (Part 8)
[The barn outside Green Valley]
Although Major Old Felt didn't know whether the legend of the "Blood Wolf" was true or false, nor did he know how much of the "Blood Wolf's" deeds were left untold, he had already realized one thing—he couldn't let the soldier in front of him continue talking.

Even if you squeezed the water out of the story and folded it twice, the "Blood Wolf's" achievements would still be awe-inspiring.

Major Felt had intended to expose the contradictions in the other party's story and then use a few witty remarks to ease his men's fear of the enemy, who had just suffered a defeat.

After all, what important intelligence about enemy generals could a lowly soldier possibly know? He probably just heard some drunkard spouting nonsense in some stinky tavern, the kind of guy who'd pawn his pants for a glass of ale.

However, looking around and seeing the expressions on his subordinates' faces, Major Felt realized that he had probably overplayed his hand.

"Alright! This... story of wolf's blood, is it some kind of long, tedious tale? Why is it so long and tedious?"

Major Felt interrupted the soldier who was demoralizing his own men, stepped forward, grabbed the soldier by the shoulders, and lifted him up: "Look at you, all crestfallen! Are you even a soldier of the Republic? Stand up straight!"

After saying that, Major Felt personally straightened the collar and buttons of the soldier, whose name he didn't yet know, and smoothed out the wrinkles on the latter's shoulders: "Soldiers should have the appearance of soldiers. We are the army personally established by Marshal Ned, not the slave soldiers of a false emperor! Soldier, what's your name?"

"Matthew," the thin soldier from the Maplestone City contingent replied in a soft voice.

It was only at this moment that Major Felt realized that the "soldier" in front of him was just a young boy who had not yet reached adulthood, and his face, covered with soot and dirt, was still childish.

"How could the recruiters of the New Reclamation Legion recruit children into the army?" Felt couldn't help but wonder. "Aren't there any adult men in the New Reclamation?"

However, now was not the time to criticize the recruitment policies of the newly reclaimed lands. Major Felt patted the soldier's shoulder forcefully, turned and scanned the other soldiers, asking in a seemingly casual tone:
"Don't scare yourself with those absurd stories you've heard! If the rebel leader were really as powerful as you say, would we still be alive? Why doesn't he just turn into a werewolf and eat us all? Is he too old for me?"

Some people laughed, some didn't, but it was still a little better than the lifeless atmosphere just now.

Major Felt climbed onto the haystack and pressed his advantage: "I know what you're all afraid of—you're afraid of failure!"

“That’s right, we suffered a defeat today!” Felt spoke with all his passion and eloquence: “But in Bazenauer to the north, Lieutenant Colonel Sanel has already joined forces with the main force of the Sixth Legion. The trapped rebels will be annihilated before them. Just as rivers inevitably flow into the sea, this current setback is only temporary. Victory will ultimately belong to the Grand Council and the Second Republic!”

Several officers were the first to applaud and cheer, followed by scattered applause from the barn.

Major Felt signaled for everyone to disperse, then stepped down from the haystack.

Lieutenant Nemet—commander of the 10th Battalion—stepped forward immediately, his eyes filled with admiration, and his tone extremely respectful: "You are not arrogant in victory, nor discouraged in defeat, sir. You truly have the demeanor of a great general."

Felt glanced at Lieutenant Nemet, who had always disliked this junior who liked to flatter his superiors; otherwise, he wouldn't have assigned the latter to the 10th Battalion.

Suppressing his anger, he asked, "Do you believe what I just said? Do I believe it? Do they believe it? Can it even fill a meal?"

Lieutenant Nemet's face turned pale and then red.

Major Felt realized he had lost his temper and didn't say anything harsher: "The most important thing is to get the soldiers something to eat. I'm sending you to collect supplies. How much do you find?"

Lieutenant Nemet hurriedly reported: "Before 'clearing the firing line,' I gathered some food and drink from nearby farmers' houses, but... it's far from enough to feed everyone. I also found some flour and wheat, and there might be some wheat in the barn. But... but the hand mill and cooking utensils were on the supply wagon, and they were lost along with the supply wagon..."

Major Felt's brow furrowed involuntarily. He bit his nails and turned to look inside the barn:
Three battalions plus the routed soldiers they had gathered along the way—at least 1,500 soldiers were crammed under one roof. Many of them didn’t even have a space to lie down and rest, and could only sit huddled up with their knees drawn up to their chests.

They were hungry and exhausted, their minds filled with the devastating defeat of the evening and the sound of hooves in the thick fog, and now they were arguing over a bundle of hay and a dry patch of flat ground.

“If you don’t have a millstone, go find a millstone; if you don’t have cooking utensils, go find cooking utensils.” Felt’s gaze was piercing: “The inhabitants of this village have taken refuge, but can they take everything with them? Go find them!”

"Yes, sir." Lieutenant Nemet replied immediately, "As soon as the enemy light cavalry retreats, I will go find them immediately, and I will lead the men myself!"

Seeing Lieutenant Nemet's statement, Felt's mood improved slightly. He nodded and began to shoo people away: "Is there anything else?"

“Um…” Lieutenant Nemet leaned closer to the major mysteriously and lowered his voice, “Sir, the finer food I found at the nearby farmhouse… I’ve already given it to you… Please don’t mind…”

Major Felt's impression of Nemet, which had just begun to improve, immediately worsened. With a stern face, he ordered, "Food should be given priority to the wounded."

Nemet assumed the major was embarrassed: "You can rest assured, no one will know, I..."

However, Major Felt stopped Nemet from continuing with a look, and the latter wisely shut his mouth, saluted, and slunk away.

Felt stared at Lieutenant Nemet's retreating figure, his empty stomach churning uncomfortably.

Lieutenant Kadar was the second to approach the major. He saluted and reported directly: "Major. The firing ports have been drilled, but ammunition is scarce, only what the musketeers carry; the barn fence has also been temporarily reinforced with wood, which may cause some trouble for the enemy cavalry; I have arranged for soldiers to take turns guarding the roof—but judging from tonight's situation, the rebels are probably just trying to scare us, and a full-scale attack will not be possible until tomorrow at the earliest."

Felt nodded slightly. Although he appreciated his subordinate's performance today, he did not show much praise.

Lieutenant Kadar was Major Felt's only redeeming quality in today's defeat. Felt had never liked the aloof and arrogant Lieutenant Kadar either—otherwise, he wouldn't have relegated him to the position of ninth battalion commander, second to last in the command hierarchy.

However, Lieutenant Kadar's performance today was outstanding. He not only efficiently rallied his troops when attacked, but also led his light cavalry out of the formation to fight the enemy several times. He made a great contribution to "maintaining the morale of the large formation," a matter of life and death.

"It seems that a sharp awl will always pierce a pocket given the chance," Major Felt thought. "Though it might be a bit prickly."

Major Felt cleared his throat and asserted, “The rebels must already know we’ve lost all our supplies. They want to keep us awake all night, trying to crush us with hunger and exhaustion. But you’re right about one thing: we’re safe tonight. This stone building is sturdy; the rebels won’t be foolish enough to run into it. You should get some rest too, Lieutenant.”

Lieutenant Kadar did not move his legs. His expression was stiff, and he said as if he was very unaccustomed to it, "This is your first time leading troops into battle. It is already a remarkable achievement that you have brought us here. This defeat was due to the enemy's strength. Please do not blame yourself too much."

Although he knew the lieutenant was trying to comfort him, Major Felt felt even more bitter. He waved his hand and said, "A defeat is a defeat. There's no point in making excuses afterward. This defeat was all because of my greed and recklessness. I will take full responsibility when I submit the report later and won't involve you. However, the most important thing right now is what to do tomorrow—at least we have to live to write the defeat report so that we can have a chance to discuss the gains and losses of this battle."

“That’s all I wanted to say.” Lieutenant Kadar pursed his lips, a shadow falling over his brow:
"Major, I questioned the fleeing soldiers from the 7th and 8th Battalions, and they all said the same thing—the enemy that ambushed them was mainly infantry, with almost no cavalry. The light cavalry that pursued us came from behind us, and if I'm not mistaken, it was an old friend who had been harassing us all along. As for the enemy that ambushed us... it's very likely another unit."

“Of course I know that the enemy that ambushed us was an infantry unit.” Major Felt smiled contemptuously: “How could those light cavalrymen in black riding inferior horses possibly wipe out my three battalions without leaving a trace? They couldn’t even break through a battalion in formation, let alone three battalions! They would only end up with their heads smashed to pieces.”

Lieutenant Kadar's brow furrowed, and his voice involuntarily turned somewhat somber: "Aside from the prior preparations, don't you think the enemy's timing was incredibly precise? The coordination between the ambushers on both flanks was flawless. The smoke was so thick it blotted out the sun; I didn't even know the positions of the other battalions, yet the enemy seemed to be able to see through the smoke wall. He was like... he was like a first-rate swordsman, and we were third-rate. The moment we made a move, he knew what we were going to do, and every strike landed on our weak blade..."

Major Felt was slightly displeased: "Lieutenant Kadar, there's no need to belittle yourself, nor is there any need to exaggerate the enemy like this."

Lieutenant Kadar lowered his head, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment, he took a deep breath and changed the subject: "Major, to maintain this attack width against three battalions from two directions—judging by the length of our marching column—the enemy needs at least—I mean at least—two battalions."

Major Felt did a quick mental calculation and felt that the estimate of two battalions was still too low, but he didn't say anything, just nodded: "This means the rebels have split up their forces, which is a good thing. The more enemies we face, the greater our chances of victory with Colonel Sanel."

“You’re right, I also think the rebels must have specifically set aside a unit to guard their rear.” Lieutenant Kadar swallowed, his expression turning somewhat strange. “But have you considered… who could be the rebels who can mobilize more than two battalions of infantry, command a light cavalry unit equipped with Hedmar, and be suitable for independent operations?”

Major Felt's expression grew increasingly serious as he listened. He compared Lieutenant Kadar's description with the intelligence in his memory, and remained silent for a long time before speaking: "You don't mean to say that the enemy we encountered today is 'the rebels'—the Iron Peak County rebels,' do you? That is to say, Iron Peak County not only allowed the rebels to cross the border, but also actively joined the rebels? And even more so, the rebels boldly allowed them to act alone and guard the rear for the entire army?"

Lieutenant Kadar did not answer directly, but continued to press, "Do you remember who the commander of the Iron Peak County rebels was?"

“Montagne, Winters Montagne.” After saying the name, Major Felt remained silent for a long time. After some struggle, he reluctantly uttered the title: “Blood of the Wolf.”

“I have something else to tell you.” Lieutenant Kadar seemed to have gone through a more painful struggle than the major, his face almost turning liver-colored: “I…I…I know Sergeant Winters Montagne.”

"You know him?" Major Felt was stunned.

“Squad Leader Montagne,” Lieutenant Kádár forced a smile that looked more like a grimace, “is my platoon leader.”

Major Felt crossed his arms, seemingly lost in thought.

Lieutenant Kadar added rapidly, his voice growing softer as he spoke: "I only know who Winters Montagne is at the Army Academy. I'm not sure if the platoon leader Montagne and the 'Winters Montagne' that the soldier was talking about are the same person... I don't even know if he is..."

Major Felt remained silent, only pressing the lieutenant with his piercing gaze.

Kadar was on the verge of tears: "Blood Wolf."

……

As Kádár recounted in detail everything he remembered about Winters Montagne to Major Felt, a different kind of "alumni reunion" was taking place a few kilometers away in a green valley, beneath clouds that resembled a river of blood.

"What's your name?" Andrei asked with a smile.

He stood there shirtless and straddling, while two auxiliary soldiers worked together to wrap layers of cloth around his waist.

The cloth was bound so tightly it almost dug into his flesh. Andrei smiled, seemingly without any discomfort.

“Imre,” the captured second lieutenant commander of the 6th Battalion of the 6th Army Corps answered softly. The dust and blood on the lieutenant’s face had not yet been washed off, and he did not dare to look his senior in the eye: “Reporting, Imre Kinna.”

"Never heard of you." Andrei thought for a moment and asked, "The cavalry department? The 22nd class?"

Imre hung his head, twisting the straps on the sides of his trousers, and said in a low voice, "Artillery Section, Class 22."

"Then you probably won't run into anyone you know today." Andrei immediately lost interest, glancing regretfully at his junior: "There probably aren't any extra warhorses for you, so you'll have to walk with the infantry. Don't fall behind! Ordinary prisoners might get away with falling behind, but you... well, because you know too much..."

Andrei patted his junior on the shoulder with pity: "So if you fall behind, you'll get slaughtered."

Lieutenant Imre wanted to cry, but couldn't.

Fortunately, only Andrea Cellini came to the captured officer to conduct "goodwill activities".

Major Seiber, being of a higher rank, disdained to approach his juniors. Winters was too busy to come and greet anyone at the moment.

After his waist and ribs were tightly bound with cloth by the auxiliary soldiers, Andrei put his uniform back on and walked toward his men.

Not only Andrei, but all the new army cavalry in Midoriya were doing the same preparations—binding their waists with cloths several meters long.

This is a "new technology" that Winters brought back from the tribes of Hed. By using the external force generated by the fabric, the rider's spine and internal organs are firmly fixed in place, making the rider more able to withstand the bumps and impacts of riding.

For short-distance assaults, this preparation is almost superfluous; but for long-distance raids, such preparation becomes extremely important.

Upon seeing Lieutenant Cellini approach, the cavalrymen immediately put down their work and raised their hands in salute.

Andrei nodded casually, walked silently to his men, and checked each of them to see if the cloth belts around their waists were secure.

When examining Tulin, he tugged at the fabric around Tulin's waist—it didn't budge.

Andrei remained noncommittal and continued to examine the young man beside Turin—he was sloppy and clearly not paying attention.

Without a word, Andrei raised his leg and kicked Turin. Knowing he was in the wrong, Turin didn't dare to dodge. He staggered from the kick but immediately straightened up to wait for the second kick—the cavalrymen all helped each other wrap their bandages.

But the second attack didn't happen. Turin watched in surprise as Andrei reached out and untied the young man's belt, personally helping him prepare for the attack. He hesitated for a moment, then quickly stepped forward to help.

“If this thing isn’t tightened properly,” Andrei said impatiently as he worked on it, “you’ll ruin your back! Especially since the road isn’t easy to walk on this time.”

The young man's Adam's apple bobbed, and he said in a low voice, "Yes."

"What's your name?" Andrei asked casually.

“Alexander,” the young man repeated his full name: “Alexander Nikolayevich.”

“Good name.” Andrei tied a knot at the end of the fabric, then laughed and punched the young man in the chest: “Don’t fall behind.”

“Yes,” the young man answered firmly. He wanted to say something more, but Lieutenant Cellini had already gone to check on the next person.

In the fields behind Andrei, Turin, and Alexander, thousands of horses are enjoying their last meal before setting off.

All the mules and horses in Green Valley were gathered together, not only the army's livestock, but also the civilians' livestock.

Even livestock such as cattle, sheep, and donkeys not included in the requisition were all driven into the forests downstream of the Niuxi River—in fact, the new army didn't even need to lift a finger; the farmers had spontaneously hidden their livestock and grain. They had learned a great deal in the past two years.

As for the new army, in order to ensure that each cavalryman had multiple horses, many light cavalrymen even had to give up their mounts and temporarily fight as infantry; and the pack horses issued to the infantry had long been recalled, some were taken away by Mason as draft horses, and the rest were redistributed to the cavalry as reserve horses. The Iron Peak County New Army was now effectively divided into three parts:
The Mason detachment, carrying only three cannons and most of its supplies, set off ahead of schedule;

Andrei and Seber's squad, each member carrying multiple horses;
And Montagne's detachment, which had become almost entirely infantry.

On the north bank of the Niuxi River, at the foot of Yinque Mountain, Winters was giving his final mobilization speech to the entire army. He stood on a boulder, the firelight of the Green Valley illuminating the lines of his face, making his features appear and disappear in the light.

Four battalions of New Army soldiers stood in four square formations in front of Winters. The soldiers' faces also flickered in and out of focus with the changing firelight, but their eyes remained bright.

"Fighters," Winters' voice was clear and cold, bluntly telling his men the perilous situation the Allied forces currently faced:

"With the arrival of reinforcements from the puppet government, our army no longer has a numerical advantage on either the northern or southern battlefields. What you have repelled today is only a small part of the enemy's forces. On the other side of Yinqueshan, the enemy's main force has already encountered the main force led by Colonel Bode."

"The puppet government's plan was simple: their army, like a pair of pincers, would attack us from the north and south, attempting to crush us like an ant between the mountains and lakes."

"However, they made one mistake—they underestimated us. Their north-south offensive deployment gave us the advantage of operating from the inside."

"Now we have broken one arm of the enemy's iron pincer. We only need to break the other arm, and this seemingly unstoppable iron pincer will crumble."

At this point, Winters fell silent for a moment, looking up at the soldiers who were looking up at him, tearing the speech that Jacob Green had drafted for him to shreds in his mind.

He no longer talked about tactics, strategies, the game between the two armies, or the flowery words his advisors had written for him.

He gazed into the soldiers' eyes, his expression both sorrowful and resolute.

“You have just won a great victory today,” he said. “You should enjoy the glory and joy that comes with victory; you have the right to drink, laugh, and sing.”

“But no, tonight I must lead you out again. Because on the other side of Silver Sparrow Mountain, in the Serpent Swamp, there is another victory for you to win.”

"If we cannot win that victory, our current victory is nothing but fleeting smoke; if we cannot win that victory, only inevitable destruction awaits us."

Winters raised his hand and pointed to the still-burning Green Valley:
"For that victory, we burned half of Green Valley to the ground."

"For that victory, we must also burn the remaining half of Green Valley."

"For that victory, we let an enemy that could have been wiped out slip through our fingers."

"In order to achieve that victory, we gave up the opportunity to occupy the capital of the newly reclaimed land."

Winters clenched his fists tightly, almost gritting his teeth as he spoke each word:

"Because it was a victory that determined our very survival!"

"Because it was a victory that determined the fate of this land!"

"Because it was a victory that could put an end to all the suffering and war in the newly reclaimed lands!"

The new army was completely silent; the only sounds were the crackling of burning wood and the soldiers' breathing.

"Follow me!" Winters gave Midoriya one last look before ordering them to set off: "To seize victory!"

……

[The next day]
I don't know when it was in the middle of the night, but the sound of horses' hooves outside the barn disappeared.

At daybreak, Lieutenant Kadar was urged to set off by Major Felt. So the lieutenant, carrying a white flag, dawdled on horseback toward Green Valley.

Major Felt certainly didn't intend to surrender, but he was reluctant to give up this rare opportunity to see what Midoriya was really like.

The nameless farm where the remnants of Felt's troops were staying was completely unable to provide them with supplies. Lieutenant Nemet and his men dug three feet into the ground, but they found very little food.

Two years of turmoil had taught the farmers to be as cunning as squirrels, digging burrows and hidden cellars everywhere. No one would be foolish enough to store grain at home anymore. Not to mention that it was currently the lean season, and the farmers didn't have much surplus grain to begin with.

Although the chances were slim, Major Felt wanted to try to secure a "decent truce."

If that doesn't work, Major Felt will have to resort to the alternative—a good habit of academic officers—to go all in and risk everything.

So, while Major Felt anxiously awaited and fervently prayed for Lieutenant Kadar's safe return, Lieutenant Nemet was preparing a final meal for the soldiers with all the food they had gathered.

Lieutenant Kadar returned an hour after he left.

He brought Major Felt, who was overjoyed, both bad and good news.

The bad news was that he was unable to see his senior, Montagne, and therefore was unable to submit a request for a "decent truce."
The good news is that Green Valley Town is now a ghost town; the rebels have all fled overnight and not a single one can be found.

“They…rebels.” Lieutenant Kadar’s expression was full of confusion: “They even left behind prisoners.”

"What?" Major Felt could hardly believe his ears. "What did you say?"

Kadar repeated: "The prisoners of the Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Battalions are currently in Green Valley; the rebels did not take a single one with them."

Major Felt's ecstatic expression vanished, and he asked the lieutenant seriously, "Are you sure?"

“OK.” Kadar nodded.

Major Felt said nothing, but directly ordered Nemet to arrest Kadar, and then sent another batch of scouts to Midoriya.

……

[Three hours later]
Green Valley Town
“Now you see, everything I said is true.” Lieutenant Kadar said expressionlessly, pointing casually, “I neither lied nor was I bribed by the rebels.”

"This...this..." Major Felt was also confused by the rebels' bizarre actions: "Why is this happening?"

In the town square in front of the two men, thousands of prisoners were being guarded by the sheriff and town militia, waiting to be "received".

Upon seeing Major Felt's sergeant uniform, the sheriff was moved to tears.

Including the sheriff, Midoriya only had a dozen or so law enforcement officers. How could they possibly suppress thousands of prisoners?
To prevent the tragedy of "the mutinous soldiers looting Midoriya completely" from happening, the sheriff summoned all the men in the town and kept watch over the prisoners all night long. Finally, as dawn broke, they ushered in the "dawn".

“Lord Montagne… no! The traitor Montagne says.” The sheriff, with snot and tears streaming down his face, said, “Just hand these prisoners over to you; you know what to do with them.”

"Leave it to me?" Major Felt was dumbfounded. "He really said that?"

"I don't know either; the mayor relayed it to me."

Where is the mayor?

"They ran away." The sheriff pointed to the road leading to town: "Afraid of being punished by you, they packed their valuables and ran away with the rebels."

Major Felt narrowed his eyes: "Where did the rebels go?"

The sheriff looked bewildered: "I don't know."

Major Felt's face darkened. He gripped his sword hilt and demanded sharply, "You don't know?! Harboring rebels? You want to die!"

The sheriff was stunned for a moment, then grabbed the major's boots and burst into tears: "I really don't know! The rebels never even entered the town, and we didn't dare go outside to look. We only knew they left. Where did they go? I really don't know, sir!"

Major Felt glanced helplessly at the sheriff: "Summon the townspeople, I need to question them. Bring me the farmers who live outside the town as well; the rebels couldn't have flown the sky! They must have left some clues."

The sheriff hurriedly went to ring the bell to summon the townspeople.

"Bring out all the sergeants and officers among the captured personnel." Major Felt turned and ordered Lieutenant Kadar: "Restore the Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Battalions to their original formations as soon as possible."

To prevent the rebels from using any tricks, Felt only brought a few attendants into Green Valley this time, while the main force remained in the granary on the farm outside the valley. He was even reluctant to abandon that sturdy building, so on a whim, he decided to use prisoners to control Green Valley.

Lieutenant Kadar shook his head: "Major, the rebels took all the sergeants and officers away—I asked them when I first entered the town. There are only soldiers here now."

"What exactly are the rebels trying to do?" Major Felt felt his head was about to explode. "They want to use these three battalions of prisoners to hold us back? Have they really retreated?"

“Who knows?” Lieutenant Kadar whistled. “Maybe the battle in the north has been decided, and the rebels are about to flee.”

"Wouldn't it be safer for him to kill us and then run away?"

“Who knows what Senior Montagne is thinking?” After being suspected once, Lieutenant Kadar’s attitude towards the major became somewhat cynical: “Maybe he thinks that barn is too difficult to attack, or maybe he’s in a hurry.”

“If he really intends to escape,” Major Felt’s mind was in turmoil. He pointed to the Green Valley Bridge spanning the Oxbow River: “Shouldn’t this bridge be demolished? Is keeping it here even convenient for us to cross the river?”

Lieutenant Kadar remained silent.

Major Felt suddenly looked around nervously and asked warily, "Is that guy trying to lure us out of the wall so he can wipe us all out?"

Lieutenant Kadar shrugged, offering no opinion whatsoever, no matter what Major Felt said.

"No, we can't abandon the stronghold outside the valley!" Major Felt was having a terrible headache, so he decided to cut to the chase: "I'll give you these three battalions, and I'll send you officers and sergeants. You'll command them! First, thoroughly search Green Valley, and then make sure there are no loopholes in the city's defenses."

Lieutenant Kadar raised his hand in salute.

"Oh, right." Major Felt's stomach was rumbling. He gritted his teeth and ordered, "Don't forget to ask that sheriff for two cartloads of food and water, and send them to the outpost outside the valley as soon as possible!"

Having said that, Major Felt prepared to leave this place, which he considered to be fraught with danger.

"Major," Lieutenant Kadar called out to Felt from behind, reminding him quietly, "Don't you know? The rebels have already looted Green Valley's grain reserves."

……

After repeated questioning, interrogation, and even personally inspecting the tire tracks and hoofprints on the road, Major Felt finally confirmed that the rebels had indeed withdrawn from Green Valley.

However, he dared not say for sure whether they had withdrawn from "Green Valley." His officers also unanimously believed that the rebels' easy abandonment of a fortified town must have some other scheme in mind.

However, whether this "plot" was to lure out the remnants of Felt's troops and then wipe them out in one fell swoop, or to create a diversion to cover the retreat, the officers had different opinions.

There were just too many suspicious points, and Major Felt couldn't sort out his thoughts.

Ultimately, he decided to choose the safest approach—since his orders were to occupy the "Green Valley-Qingyin Pass" line and cut off the rebels' retreat, he only needed to secure Green Valley Town.

After all, he had a more pressing problem to solve—how to feed the remnants of his six battalions.

Thus, in this war-torn valley on the southern slopes of Yinqueshan Mountain, the two commanders of the southern sub-battlefield of this yet-to-be-officially-named major battle ultimately made diametrically opposed choices.

Meanwhile, on the northern slope of Yinqueshan Mountain.

Colonel Bode received one of the worst reconnaissance reports:
The enemy he faced head-on was neither the "less than ten battalions" predicted before the battle, nor the "twelve to fourteen battalions" after receiving reinforcements from Zhuwangbao, but a full seventeen infantry battalions! In addition, there were thousands of light and heavy cavalry!
Sanel Angelman was a madman, but Chloe Torrill was even more insane. Apart from the two battalions of old, weak, and disabled soldiers left behind, all the soldiers of the Reconstituted New Reclamation Corps and the New Reclamation Expeditionary Force were taken to Mirror Lake County by them.

At this moment, they were standing right in front of Colonel Bode and his combined forces from the three counties.

[After maintaining a good routine for 26 days, it still collapsed in the end ≡(▔﹏▔)≡]
[I need to ask for leave for the next chapter...]

[Thank you to all the readers for your collections, reading, subscriptions, recommendations, monthly tickets, donations, and comments. Thank you everyone!]
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(End of this chapter)