You were made to farm, and now you're the emperor of an empire?

Chapter 381 A worthy death
This battle was not a futile struggle, but rather an endless quagmire.

When you're deeply trapped in it, the more you struggle, the more powerless you feel; the more powerless you feel, the more you struggle.

This was a truly grueling war, because after long marches and bloody battles, everyone's bodies and wills were exhausted to the extreme.

……

Ed felt dizzy.

"Squad leader, you're not dead!"

"Help me up. How long have I been unconscious?" Ed's voice was hoarse, like a cracked riverbed.

"The time it takes to eat three meals."

A meal takes ten minutes, three meals take half an hour, yet it feels like something from a past life. Ed was daring and aggressive, but his battles were too intense, causing his body to be exhausted and fall into a coma. When he woke up, his body was still heavy, and the intense pain from all parts of his body repeatedly tormented his nerves.

Ed paused for a moment before saying, "Explain the situation..."

"Squad, the mercenaries who were besieging us have retreated, but we have also been scattered."

Two soldiers braced Ed's arms with their shoulders, barely managing to keep him standing.

Ed looked around.

All I could see were about twenty soldiers sitting or lying around me. The sky was slightly dusky, the sunlight wasn't glaring, the spring breeze couldn't disperse the smoke of war, and over a hundred corpses lay scattered across the wilderness.

There were enemies and comrades.

Is the war over?

They left Fengrao City at dawn, marched more than fifty li, and began to form ranks and fight after noon. In total, about a thousand reinforcements from the valley joined the battle.

Otherwise, with only three hundred men, they certainly wouldn't have lasted this long.

And so, these several thousand men fought a massive, chaotic battle with the mercenaries in this open wilderness.

The melee lasted from noon until the afternoon.

Ed had previously ordered each squad to operate independently, aiming to delay more enemies while preserving their own safety.

Almost all the squads chose to fight and retreat.

However, the battlefield was chaotic, and many people couldn't tell which way was which.

The 13th Battalion was thus completely dispersed.

Ed could only pray to His Highness Roman that his soldiers were safe and sound and would all be able to find their way home safely.

"Those who are still able to move, line up and count off!"

Ed planted his steel sword in the ground, using it as a crutch for support. Under his gaze, a dozen or so warriors from different teams quickly lined up.

The basic training they received over the past two years has instilled in them a high level of discipline.

“1！”“2！”“3！”……“11！”“12！”

As the numbers were read out smoothly, Ed looked at each person's face.

He discovered that not all of these soldiers were from the Thirteenth Battalion. He had spent a lot of time with his soldiers and had some impression of all of them, but now he found that some of their faces were unfamiliar.

Ed quickly understood the situation.

Because the melee lasted too long, all the teams were scattered, but they spontaneously regrouped, and soldiers from other large groups mixed in with his team.

"I am Ed, the captain of the 13th Squadron. State your numbers!"

One of the unfamiliar faces saluted first, then said, "I am Eamon, the third company commander of the 7th Heavy Armored Battalion! Captain Ed, you are now the highest-ranking officer, and I will follow your orders from now on!"

"I am a member of the 24th Squad, 4th Company, 36th Brigade. My name is Abby!"

"I am Barry, a member of the Eighth Guards Battalion..."

Several people spoke one after another. Ed stared at the company commander who called himself Eamon and asked, "Are you from the 7th Heavy Armored Battalion?"

"Yes! My captain is Weima... He mentioned you to us."

"How is he doing now?"

Ed hadn't expected to get an answer from Amon.

After all, it was too chaotic at the time, with thousands of people fighting on an area of ​​tens of square kilometers, and the battlefield was rapidly shifting and spreading.

They were thoroughly divided by the vast space.

But unexpectedly, he received the answer to his question. A trace of sadness appeared on Eamon's stiff face: "The Weimar Battalion... has been killed in action."

He was right there and witnessed seven mercenaries' corpses at Weimar's feet. One of them, feigning death, suddenly regained consciousness and grabbed Weimar's right leg, tripping him. Then, a mercenary rushed over from the side and swung a heavy axe at Weimar's head...

Weimar was stronger than him, Ed thought. A third-tier foot knight, the captain of a heavy infantry battalion, who died on the battlefield.

This is war...

Ed felt a wave of suffocation and sadness.

But faced with the terrible situation, he had no choice but to force himself to calm down and analyze the situation.

They had twelve lightly wounded but able-bodied soldiers, four seriously wounded soldiers who couldn't stand, and he himself was exhausted and greatly weakened—he had to take them all back! Ed told himself.

Because there are at least several thousand lingering mercenaries in this area, and they are lone individuals. If they encounter them from above, a new battle will inevitably break out.

Of course, the current situation is that after fighting all afternoon, the enemy doesn't want to fight anymore, and neither do they, because they are all exhausted.

But everyone knows that once those greedy wolves have healed their wounds, they will launch a second attack.

Ed was saddened, but surprisingly calm. After a long while, he said, "It's getting dark. Let's find a camp to rest. Make some stretchers and take our wounded brothers away from here as soon as possible."

Eamon replied, "As you wish, Captain Ed."

With a stiff face, Amon dragged his weary body to check on the wounded soldiers and remove their armor.

The light of the setting sun shone directly down, illuminating this desolate wilderness.

The cool evening breeze, tender green grass, two lonely saplings, a dozen or so lost soldiers, and over a hundred corpses lay quietly in the gravelly wilderness, some of them enemies, others of their comrades.

Crows began to fly across the sky, more and more frequently.

Those were not crows raised by the witches of monsters, but a group of wild scavengers. They didn't care who they were scavenging for, just as mercenaries would greedily strip their comrades of their armor and shirts, leaving them naked in the face of the world until they rotted.

This is how it is in this era. Many mercenaries neither bury their comrades nor their enemies; they live like a group of lost souls with no place to call home, devoid of any affection for one another. They only profit from the dead.

He was a seasoned veteran and was well aware of this.

But it doesn't matter how many of these mercenaries die, because mercenaries are unjust people, as lowly as dirt, despised in life and unable to rest in peace even in death.

But what about his comrades? His comrades were all noble warriors chosen by Roman, who had been victorious in every battle in the past, but in this battle, too many of them had sacrificed their lives.

Three hundred or five hundred people died? It's impossible to calculate.

How could his fallen comrades suffer the same fate as those wandering ghosts?
A deep sorrow gripped Ed's heart. Gazing at the scattered soldiers before him, he suddenly uttered, "We will return..."

The soldiers' faces were covered in exhaustion and blood, and they all looked over when they heard this.

Ed said firmly, "His Highness will lead us back to fight our way back."

"His Highness said, dust to dust, ashes to ashes."

He would never let us die in the wilderness like wild dogs.

"Sooner or later, we will all die a worthy death."

"Our sacrifices must have been worthwhile!"

Ed was physically weak, but he harbored a pure sense of conviction in his heart.

When he said those words, he felt a deep sense of peace, as if he had already made up his mind.

……

Book Recommendation: *Tom, I'm the Dark Lord!*

Hermione thought Hogwarts was a good place. There was neither the Inquisition nor the Dark Machine Cult, so she could focus on her research. Apart from Draco being somewhat ill, everything else was fine.

Harry thought Hogwarts was the best place ever. There were no mind flayers or the chosen ones, and she could enjoy her retirement peacefully there. Apart from Draco being a little sick, everything else was great.

Ron thought Hogwarts was a great place. There were no NCPDs or corporate dogs there, and he could comfortably run a small business and take care of his family. Apart from Draco being a bit sick, everything else was great.

……

Voldemort thought Hogwarts was a great place. If Dumbledore allowed him to return, Hogwarts would be the best place in the world. But wasn't Draco a little sick? Are Hogwarts' rules against expelling students now?

Draco thought Hogwarts was a great place. Everyone there was talented and spoke so nicely. He loved it. He wished that no matter what spell he cast, he would end up with Avada Kedavra and Dumbledore thinking he was the next Dark Lord.

What a joke! I merely blew the basilisk's head off with a bolt pistol and conducted a nuclear test in the Room of Requirement. What does that have to do with the Dark Lord?!

That's absolutely ridiculous!
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(End of this chapter)