I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 281 Didn't Win

The Bohemians were undoubtedly defeated.

The battle in front of the camp had been lost; the swordsmen and light cavalry had been routed, the gunpowder depot inside the camp had been destroyed, and the fires set by the enemy were out of control.

All of this signifies the loss of control and despair in the war.

Otto had no choice but to lead his messengers in continuously sounding the four short and one long brass horns... This was the signal for the complete withdrawal of the Bohemian army.

At this point, the problem of insufficient player organization became apparent. While the Bohemians were rushing westward, the heavy infantry players, who were driving and crushing them with the ferocity of tigers, lacked the ability to stop the enemy.

The reason was simple: a lack of organization. Some people ran south to the granaries, some looted Bohemia's armories in the north, some wanted to pursue the enemy fleeing west, while others were too tired to move.

The disagreement wasn't limited to heavy infantry; it also extended to the vehicle camps outside the barracks, and to a small number of skirmishers who had miraculously survived the concentrated fire of rockets.

They were also fighting independently, with each battle group fighting its own battles. If the Bohemians were to gather a force and launch a counterattack at this time, even if they could not turn the tide, they would certainly be able to gain a foothold and create a stalemate.

Fortunately, Count Sisso's army did not fall into chaos. Although he himself may have some ideas, he was indeed capable. He led his army and the wagon battalion composed of NPCs to advance to the outside of the Bohemian camp and bombarded the camp with dense artillery fire and lead bullets, which made General Otto give up the idea of ​​sending in the reserves to launch a counterattack.

At exactly three o'clock in the afternoon, outside a small grove of trees west of the Bohemian military camp, a battle-hardened veteran stood with a grim face. He removed his ornate helmet, revealing graying sideburns that made him appear exceptionally aged in the cold wind.

The retreat is ongoing and not yet complete, but more than half of the troops have been evacuated. However, this does not mean that the Bohemian 7th Corps suffered minor casualties.

On the contrary, after making a rough estimate, General Otto felt that he had suffered a huge loss, having lost nearly a third of his troops.

Most of those who died on the battlefield were regular soldiers in blue uniforms, while the troops that successfully retreated from the camp were mostly reserve soldiers in gray uniforms. What's worse, they had lost their armor and weapons, and apart from their cotton-padded clothes, they had no iron in their hands.

Can soldiers like this be considered combat-effective?
Otto dared not think further. Apart from a company of cuirassiers as a reserve force and nearly a thousand spearmen he had gathered, the more than ten thousand soldiers he had were all reserve and auxiliary troops, which made him give up the idea of ​​continuing to fight.

General Otto stood under a withered tree, gazing at the still-burning military camp in the distance. The winter wind swirled the ashes, and a layer of fine snow fell on his graying temples.

"General, this is the latest casualty report."

The adjutant handed over a crumpled piece of parchment, on which the losses of each unit were scribbled down.

Alto didn't reach out to take it; he just glanced at it coldly.

"How many reserves are left?"

"Approximately 17,000 people, but..."

The adjutant swallowed hard.
"Most of them even lost their weapons."

The old general's lips twitched slightly.

Seventeen thousand men sounds like a huge number, but before the battle they clearly had nearly thirty thousand troops, and they had lost their weapons, armor, and morale.

This kind of army is not even as good as the militia. He turned to look at the soldiers shivering in the snow... They huddled together like a flock of frightened sheep, their eyes filled with fear and confusion.

"Pass down the order."

Alto's voice was deep and hoarse.

"All troops still capable of fighting, immediately retreat into the Empire. Supply trains will go first, with cavalry providing cover." "And... what about the wounded?" the adjutant asked cautiously.

Alto was silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping over the wounded soldiers lying in the snow in the distance. Some were groaning, while others were motionless, their blood staining the snow beneath them.

"They took everything, the living and the dead..."

He took a deep breath.

"It needs to be towed along too. If there's space for the carriage, then find someone to lift it up and move it."

Regardless of the circumstances, we've already suffered such a devastating defeat. The people must be taken away, and the bodies cannot be left behind... at least not here.

Regardless, the most basic morale must be maintained; otherwise, the spirit of this legion will collapse. Even if those here can return home safely, they will become a mob with no hope of ever uniting again.

The adjutant's face paled as he thought of something horrific, but he simply nodded and turned to relay the order.

Alto put his helmet back on and mounted his horse. He took one last look at the burning camp; the firelight illuminated his wrinkled face, making him appear particularly desolate.

"The Black Knights and the General's Guard will stay behind with me to cover the rear."

General Otto was overthinking it. The Bohemian 7th Army Corps was demoralized and on the verge of collapse, but the situation on the expeditionary force side was not much better.

First came the skirmishers, who were almost completely wiped out. Then came the heavy infantry, a group of fully armored warriors led by the Han-Tang warriors. They were almost completely wiped out as well. Before the battle, there were over a thousand of them, but by the afternoon, only about a hundred heavy infantrymen were still able to emerge from the camp.

Most of the others died in the military camp, either in battle, from exhaustion, or from being burned to death.

The thousand or so players who broke away from the camp scattered in their pursuit of the swordsmen and shieldmen. Even on the second day of the battle, some were still wandering in the wilderness, their targets unknown.

As for the wagon camp, their losses were not significant. With shield wagons, six-pound field guns, tiger-squat guns, and the cover of the count's army, the Bohemians dared not attack the wagon camp, which only had two thousand men, from beginning to end.

The reason is simple: wagon battalions are simply too overpowered on the front lines. Apart from their slow advance and lack of mobility, wagon battalions are virtually flawless. They have maximum firepower and protection, and can even cook and burn fires behind the shield wagons while fighting.

Fighting and eating hot meals can be done simultaneously.

Lin Ruoyu's iron cone tactic was quite successful. If he hadn't coldly used skirmishers as bait in the middle of the battle, and used rockets to blast the Bohemian swordsmen and light cavalry indiscriminately, annihilating both sides in the melee, he wouldn't have been shot in the back.

Without being shot in the back, Lin Ruoyu could continue to command on the battlefield. He could direct the vehicle battalion to advance, and then cover the remaining thousand or so players who were in reserve as they rushed into the Bohemian military camp. Together with the heavy infantry players inside, they could turn the rout into an annihilation battle.

With the assistance of the Earl's army on the sidelines, even if the expeditionary force could not completely annihilate the Bohemian Seventh Army, it could still tear off a large chunk of flesh, making it difficult for Otto to retreat so easily.

Of the more than 17,000 people, it was incredibly lucky that 10,000 managed to escape back to the Bohemian Empire.

Unfortunately, Lin Ruoyu was shot in the back. Even if he could still be a commander in the fountain offline, it was useless, because this shot not only took his life, but also destroyed his prestige.

This resulted in Lin Ruoyu, the commander of the fountain, only being able to command the Ultimate Warriors Legion and two thousand NPCs. Other player groups, whether in legions or solo players, no longer paid him any attention.

You really think players don't have a temper?

(End of this chapter)