I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 327 Targeting and Counter-Ambush
Outside Tavitsky, dirt churned and shouts echoed through the air. Soldiers and laborers toiled, sweat pouring down their faces, their hoes and shovels gleaming coldly in the sunlight as they swung back and forth.

Large sections of the moat were filled in, exposing the wet silt, which was quickly covered and compacted by the earth and stones that were brought in.

The winding trenches, like ugly scars, began to spread hundreds of paces outside the city walls, with the dug soil piled up on the outside of the trenches to form rudimentary breastworks.

Players originally intended to dig straight trenches, but found it impossible in practice due to the questionable quality of the construction workers.

Further away, thick smoke billowed as arsonists burned down demolished houses and orchards. The charred wooden beams and burning fruit trees emitted a pungent odor, and large tracts of once fertile land were forcibly cleared, turning into a scorched, open death zone.

The barricades were driven deep into the ground, and the barbed wire, like a menacing thicket of thorns, began to spread along the edges of the open area and on both sides of the reserved passage.

The entire Tavitskyi is like a startled hedgehog, raising its quills in an unprecedented way.

Then, amidst the clamor of this land being transformed, the dry autumn wind finally brought an ominous atmosphere.

The Retalians have arrived.

Contrary to Major General Marlow's initial fears, they did not advance directly towards Tavitsky City in the form of a large, orderly legion, like a moving steel wall.

On the contrary, their invasion spread like a plague, silent yet swift and deadly.

First, the flames of war were lit on the edge of the vast plains and hills of the Tavitsky Province.

Units of thousands, each composed of heavily armored knights and accompanied by numerous light cavalry squires and elite armored foot soldiers, crossed the provincial border from multiple directions like wolves that had smelled blood.

They acted swiftly and with strict discipline, targeting specific towns and villages in Miniscia that had not yet submitted to Prince Chris or whose attitudes were ambiguous.

These thousand-man teams employ simple yet highly effective tactics.

The light cavalry spread out like mercury, scouting roads, village defenses, and potential resistance. Once a target was confirmed to be weakly or undefended, a signal would be given.

Upon receiving the signal, the heavily armored knights will launch a breathtaking charge, not to breach the stronghold, but to utterly crush any attempt at resistance.

Horse hooves trampled the makeshift fence, lances easily pierced the militia trying to form ranks, and heavy maces smashed the door panels.

Fear is their most effective weapon.

If the Miniese towns were well-defended, they would hide inside before the cavalry approached and gather soldiers to defend their homes to the death.

Then the knights would order their squires and infantry to push forward the clumsy, inaccurate, short-range, but powerful stone-throwing cannons.

At a distance of two hundred meters or even closer, Retalia's artillery only needed one shot to shatter the town's thin wooden and stone walls, which were built solely to defend against bandits.

Then, under the cover of a hail of crossbow bolts and a small number of heavy muskets, the armored infantrymen poured into the breached or surrendered villages and towns and began to plunder.

Grain, livestock, property, and even able-bodied men were all their spoils of war.

Cries and pleas mingled with the rough shouts and triumphant laughter of the Retalian soldiers. Houses were set ablaze, and the thick smoke became their banner of victory.

The most devastating atrocities followed.

The Retalians had no time to slowly digest the occupied territories, but they needed food, large quantities of food, to sustain their massive army deep in enemy territory.

So they not only robbed the homes of local people and raped their wives and daughters, but also forced captured Miniese farmers, under the threat of knives and guns, to walk into the wheat fields they had worked so hard to cultivate and which were about to be harvested.

Golden waves of wheat rippled in the autumn wind. This should have been a season of harvest and joy, but at this moment, the wheat field was a scene of hell.

The ragged peasants, their faces numb with fear, mechanically swung their sickles as they were driven by the whips and spears of the Reteria soldiers.

The sharp blades cut through the wheat stalks, the golden ears of wheat fell, and were roughly bound and loaded onto the Retalians' wagons. Every bundle of wheat taken away meant that the locals' hope of surviving the winter was being taken away.

Any hesitation or resistance would be met with merciless beatings, or even being killed on the spot.

Blood stained the field ridges, dripping onto the golden wheat ears, creating glaring mottled patterns. The air was filled with the fresh scent of wheat straw, the earthy stench, and an overwhelming, viscous stench of blood and despair.

These thousand-strong Reteria hordes swept across the borders of the Tavitsky Province, and even five kilometers outside the city of Tavitsky.

They bypassed the heavily guarded Tavitsky and targeted the Minisians' weak points.

The looted supplies were quickly gathered and transported in a steady stream to the large forward base that was being established in the rear, using light horse-drawn wagons as supply trains.

The Bagnians in Tavetsky strictly obeyed Prince Chris's orders, staying in the city and not venturing out.

Major General Marlowe considered giving it a try, but when he learned that the enemy had a large number of heavy cavalry, he immediately abandoned the idea... His troops were all infantry, without even a light cavalry company, and going out of the city would be suicide.

Every day, new flames of war rise on the horizon of Tavitsky.

Every day, new villages and towns are engulfed in flames and filled with cries of despair.

Every day, caravans laden with grain and "spoils of war," escorted by Retalian light cavalry, triumphantly traversed the ravaged land.

This made Marlowe extremely envious.

During this process, the only force that could hold off the Retalians for a moment in the open was actually the Bagnians, who were also invaders... or more precisely, the players who received Chris's mission.

Even though the Minieses are still the players' enemies, they still find this situation very unacceptable and launch an attack on the Leterian supply train, engaging in battle with the latter's scouts in the wilderness.

Players... these guards leaders and their elite squads, tasked by Prince Chris with "reconnaissance" missions, roam like ghosts along the edges of war-torn provinces.

Their original goal was to find out the location of the main force of the Leteria and the activity patterns of the thousand-man squad, but after witnessing the village turned into scorched earth, the farmland forcibly harvested, and the women and children crying out in agony under the iron hooves, a primal rage burned in their hearts.

"Reconnaissance"? No, this is clearly an armed patrol, a hunt for those beasts clad in magnificent armor!
What the hell is the difference between this and the Japanese invading a village?
Without much hesitation, almost all the players active on the Tavitzki Plain spontaneously took action.

With their advanced information sharing and familiarity with the terrain, they actively sought out isolated or small groups of Retalian troops.

Then, the player was ambushed several times.

With volleys of flintlock musket fire and plumes of black smoke from each explosion, they nearly wiped out several arrogant light cavalry squads with minimal casualties. The capture of some horses and equipment greatly boosted the player's confidence. These "Leterian boys" seemed to be nothing special after all.

They're just like the light cavalry of Miniscia. The Retalians have so many horses, they should give some to those of us who don't have horses.

With this mindset and a desire for mounts, they naturally continued their ambush.

However, players quickly paid a heavy price for their underestimation of their opponents and their stereotypes.

It was a crisp autumn afternoon, with the sun shining obliquely, turning the sparse oak groves and rolling wheat stubble fields golden.

A reconnaissance squad of six elite players is stealthily making its way along a dry riverbed. The riverbed provides excellent cover, with high earthen slopes on either side.

They had just evacuated from a burned-down village, and the horrific scene they witnessed filled the group with a oppressive and murderous atmosphere.

"There's movement ahead!"

The player "Old Smoker," who was acting as the scout, suddenly lowered his body, made a gesture, his ear to the ground, and his brows furrowed.

"The sound of hooves... was very deep, unlike the crackling sound of light cavalry."

Captain "Hammer," a veteran player known for his composure, immediately signaled everyone to hide in the shadows of the riverbed and behind bushes.

He raised his monocular telescope and carefully peered out from the edge of the riverbed, looking in the direction of the sound... About four or five hundred meters away, at the edge of a half-harvested golden wheat field, three figures appeared in the telescope's field of view.

The sunlight reflected off them, giving them a dazzling, almost mirror-like sheen.

It wasn't the haphazard leather or chainmail of a light cavalry squire, but rather polished plate armor with smooth lines covering the entire body.

Huge, kite-shaped shields adorned with family crests hung beside the three heavy cavalrymen, protecting their relatively vulnerable waists and thighs. Heavy lances pointed diagonally to the sky, and warhammers and longswords hung at their waists.

Their warhorses were also clad in iron half-body chainmail and thick cloth robes, revealing only their eyes and mouths, and made a dense "whooshing" sound when they ran.

They are Retalia Heavy Knights, and they are being used as scouts!

"Damn, these are the canned goods Varangi found, there are three of them!"

The sound of the hammer was filled with disbelief and astonishment.

In his experience, these expensive and terrifying war machines have always been the core assault force in battles, so how could they be luxuriously deployed as scouts?
This completely overturned their understanding of the "scout" troop type!
When Hammerhead intercepted the Varangian Chapter before, he could understand that it was a special case because the latter were carrying important letters.

But judging from the current situation, the Leterian scouts are definitely something else!
Just as the hammer was used to warn them, the three knights seemed to have also noticed the anomaly in the direction of the riverbed. They saw birds startled by the players' actions, and the lead knight took out his monocular telescope and looked in their direction.

Without the slightest hesitation, or even the intention to slow down and scout, the lead knight, whose helmet was adorned with a striking blue feather, suddenly spurred his horse, and the heavy warhorse let out a neigh, instantly turning from a slow pace into a ferocious charge.

Two other knights followed closely behind, forming a small wedge, their target the riverbed where the player squad was hiding.

Behind them, a dozen or so light cavalrymen ran out at this moment, following the three knights at a distance.

Rumble…

The heavy hooves pounded on the hard, dry ground like the beating of war drums.

Three hundred meters is a distance that a heavily armored knight charging at full speed can cover in less than a minute.

The overwhelming sense of oppression brought by the three heavy cavalry charging at full speed was far beyond that of light cavalry. They were like three mobile steel fortresses that could crush any obstacle in their path.

"Ready, aim at the horse, wait for my command, do not fire indiscriminately!!!"

Hammer roared and stood up, raising his flintlock pistol. The six players reacted quickly, standing up on the riverbank, the flintlock trigger sparks flashing in the sunlight.

The six people participating in the hunt here are all veteran players. Their equipment is not very good; they only have flintlock rifles and no heavy armor. However, their fighting spirit is as tough as steel, which is also their best protection.

Faced with the mountain-like pressure of the heavily armored knights' charge, they remained as steady as Mount Tai, their breathing even steady, and they even had the mind to joke before their deaths.

"Hammer, we're in deep trouble this time... Besides, I told you not to bring your prized telescope out of the house..."

"Enough talk, old smoker, listen to my instructions... Ready, fire!!!"

boom……

Six gunshots rang out almost simultaneously, smoke filled the air, and bullets whistled as they flew toward the knights and their mounts who had already closed to within thirty meters.

The six men knew very well that with six flintlock muskets against three charging knights, they only had one chance to fire, and their shots had to be spread out; otherwise, they probably wouldn't be able to kill even one of the three enemies.

Therefore, all six players fired at the sharpest point of the wedge.

Six bullets struck the neck, chest, and head of the lead knight's warhorse almost simultaneously, causing the mighty horse to let out a painful whinny, its front hooves buckling as it collapsed with a thud.

The Blue-feathered Knight on horseback reacted extremely quickly, leaping away the instant his mount fell. His heavy body rolled several times on the ground before he swiftly stood up, leaning on his lance. His gaze, hidden beneath his helmet, coldly locked onto the riverbed.

However, the other two knights following behind were unharmed. The fall of the lead knight only slightly slowed their charge, and they continued to press forward with even greater ferocity, now less than ten meters away.

"Kill them all! Don't lose money!"

Hammer's eyes were bloodshot. He roared as he threw away the long gun that had missed its mark, drew his battle axe and a large-caliber short-barreled flintlock pistol from his waist, and fired a shot in the last second before engaging in battle.

Missed!
The remaining two heavily armored knights crashed into the player's position on the edge of the riverbed like out-of-control battering rams!
A player tried to stab and stop his horse with his flintlock lance with bayonets, but the knight's lance, as thick as a child's arm, thrust out with even greater speed and precision, like a venomous snake!
Snap! Puff!
The lance easily pierced the player's chest, the enormous impact sending him flying into the air. He crashed into the earthen wall of the riverbed like a rag doll, blood gushing from the two huge wounds like a fountain, and the light in his eyes instantly went out.

Another knight wielded a heavy mace, and with the momentum of his warhorse, he swept it horizontally, knocking the flintlock pistol a player was trying to block out of his hand. The heavy mace, still powerful, slammed into the player's shoulder and neck.

puff!
A sickening cracking sound rang out, and half of the player's shoulder and neck instantly collapsed. His body twisted and fell at an eerie angle, clearly beyond saving.

In just one encounter, the player's scout team paid a heavy price, losing two lives, while the enemy only lost a warhorse and a knight who fell to the ground.

The Blue Feather Knights, upon landing, also demonstrated their terrifying foot combat capabilities.

He tossed aside his cumbersome lance, drew his gleaming longsword, and charged like a human tank toward the nearest player, "Old Smoker."

In a single exchange, the old smoker's long knife was knocked from his hand, and his neck was slashed open in the next second. Blood gushed out, taking away all his strength and causing him to fall.

"Damn it! Fight them!"

Hammer's eyes were bloodshot as he roared as he charged toward the knight who had just killed his companion with a mace.

He tossed the empty pistol over, and his battle axe whistled through the air as it slashed at the horse's legs.

The knight reacted with lightning speed, pulling sharply on the reins. His warhorse reared up, dodging the fatal blow, but its heavy hooves slammed down, forcing Hammer to tumble and dodge in a sorry state.

The remaining two players also found themselves in a tough battle.

The Blue Feather Knights, once on the ground, clung to them like leeches, their swordplay sweeping and powerful, constantly pushing them to the brink of danger. Another knight, controlling his warhorse, charged wildly through the narrow riverbed, attempting to tear apart and crush the remaining players.

The player's flintlock bayonet is ineffective at such close range against enemies wearing full plate armor.

Even if you try your best to stab into the thick armor plates, you can often only leave deep scratches and it is difficult to penetrate them.

Each swing of the knights carried a terrifying power capable of shattering bones and tearing flesh apart.

The hammer tumbled through the mud, narrowly avoiding the heavy trampling of the horse's hooves, mud and gravel splattering his face. He scrambled to his feet, his lungs burning with pain, and before him lay the desperate sight of his two companions struggling against the swords and hammers of heavily armored knights, their lives hanging by a thread.

"Hold!"

He roared and charged at the mounted knight again, raising his battle axe.

He knew that the axe would have limited effect against a monster covered in plate armor, but as long as it could draw their attention and create a chance for his companions...

Just then, a more intense and rapid sound of hooves came from above the riverbed, like a sudden downpour.

Those were the light cavalry following behind!
They had maintained their distance, like patient vultures circling the edge of the battlefield. Now, after the heavy knights had completely disrupted the players' formation and caused enough chaos and casualties, these light cavalry squires finally bared their fangs.

A dozen or so light cavalrymen charged down the earthen slopes on both sides of the riverbed. They wore variegated leather armor or chainmail, and their equipment was far inferior to that of the heavy cavalrymen, but they had the advantage of being extremely fast and agile.

Their weapons were a motley collection: compound bows, light lances, scimitars, and even lassos. Their faces wore a cruel excitement, as if they were participating in a hunting game.

"Fuck!"

Hammer knew at once that there was no chance.

One minute later, the battle on the riverbed was over.

The three heavily armored knights stood indifferently on the riverbed, like gods looking down on ants, watching their servants clean up the battlefield.

To them, the current outbreak was nothing more than clearing out a few insects that tried to resist; only the death of a warhorse made them feel heartache.

However, the six fine flintlock muskets made them feel it was worthwhile. Once they disposed of them, they could buy new warhorses at the ranch in Reteria... two.

The light cavalry, who had been doing odd jobs, quickly finished their looting. They casually kicked the enemy corpses aside, mounted their horses, and the heavy cavalry regrouped, with the Blue-feathered Knights riding a spare horse offered by their attendants.

This mixed scout squad from Leteria, carrying painful losses and abundant spoils, calmly left the blood-stained riverbed as they had arrived, continuing their patrol as if they had merely crushed a few ants in their way.

The sound of hooves gradually faded into the distance, leaving only six gradually cooling corpses in the riverbed, along with a scene of devastation and deathly silence, telling of the absolute disadvantage and despair of infantry when they encountered a coordinated attack from elite heavy cavalry and light cavalry in open terrain.

……

The same scene unfolded across the plains of Tavitzki, almost on the same day, causing players engaged in scouting battles in different locations to suffer heavy losses.

Faced with the sudden charge of the heavily armored knights and the coordinated attack of the light cavalry, none of the players who were spotted and targeted were able to escape. Within a single day, they had lost a hundred men.

The Leterian knights who had launched the attack made a fortune. They returned with smiles on their faces, carrying the captured flintlock muskets and tossing their tattered uniforms and armor to their squire cavalry, who were also delighted.

Players who suffered such a great loss are not willing to let it go so easily.

……

The following afternoon, the sun shone brightly. A small scout squad of Leterian knights and eight light cavalry squires patrolled aimlessly.

The continuous "hunting" and the rich harvest have made them somewhat complacent. The Bagnians seem to have been terrified and are rarely seen today.

Hey! Look over there!

A sharp-eyed light cavalryman pointed to the edge of the stubble field in the distance.

Three figures dressed in green military uniforms were seen moving furtively along the ridge of the field. The conspicuous leather tube on the back of one of them was particularly tempting in the sunlight.

"It's a Bagnian scout, and he's carrying documents too!"

The light cavalry squad leader licked his lips excitedly.

"Sir Knight! There's a fat sheep!"

The two heavily armored knights also spotted their target. Beneath their helmets, they wore contemptuous and greedy smiles, their confidence swelled by yesterday's victory and the rich spoils.

Three mere infantry scouts? That's practically a gift delivered to our doorstep!

Without any further communication, the tactics were already ingrained in their very being. The leading knight, whose helmet had a red feather stuck in it, suddenly raised his lance and pointed it forward!
"Glory to our lord! Charge!"

The two heavily armored knights instantly sprang into action, their heavy hooves kicking up dust, charging towards the three "panicked" Bagnian scouts like two tanks starting up.

The light cavalry attendants tacitly spread out on both flanks, flanking the target like hunting dogs to prevent escape and prepare to reap the spoils.

The three players, acting as "scouts," performed "just right."

They looked back in "horror," then let out a "desperate" cry, leaving behind some insignificant items like water bottles and food bags, and ran frantically toward the low bushes!

"Chase them, don't let them get away!"

The Red Feather Knight's voice came through the mask, carrying a playful tone reminiscent of a cat playing with a mouse.

The distance is shrinking rapidly.

One hundred meters... fifty meters... thirty meters, the knights could clearly see the panicked backs of their "prey" and the tempting flintlock muskets and leather canisters on their backs.

victory is in sight.

at this time.

Snap... Pfft, hiss...

The red-feathered knight at the forefront suddenly lost control of his powerful warhorse. The cleverly disguised horse trap instantly swallowed the horse's hoof, and the immense momentum caused the horse's leg to slam into the pit.

With a sickening cracking sound of bones breaking, the warhorse let out a mournful wail that was utterly shrill, and its massive body crashed forward like a mountain collapsing!
As expected of a knight who had trained in martial arts since childhood, the Crimson Feather Knight tried to leap away the moment his mount fell, but the distance was too close and the speed too fast! He was thrown out by the enormous force, like a heavy iron block, and slammed heavily onto the ground covered with barbed wire.

Although the heavy plate armor protected him from being pierced by the caltrops, the enormous impact made him see stars and his internal organs feel displaced, leaving him unable to move for a moment.

The second knight following closely behind was terrified and instinctively tried to rein in his horse, but the momentum of the charge was not something that could be stopped so easily.

To avoid the tragic fate of his comrades ahead, his warhorse instinctively bolted to the side, only to step right into a dense network of horse traps on the other side.
Screech... Bang!

The same tragedy repeated itself: the warhorse collapsed with a pitiful neigh, throwing the rider off its back and onto the ground covered with caltrops, looking utterly disheveled.

"A trap! There's a trap!"

The light cavalrymen screamed in horror, reining in their horses and daring not to charge forward any further. The scene before them sent chills down their spines.

In that split second, the three "panicked" decoy players suddenly stopped and turned around, their faces no longer showing any fear.
All that remained was a ferocious killing intent!
They quickly grabbed the pre-hidden grenades from the edge of the bushes, pulled the fuses, and threw them at the light cavalry thirty meters away.

"My grandsons, let the feast begin!"

Three locally manufactured grenades arced through the air, precisely striking the group of light cavalrymen who were still in shock and huddled at the edge of the horse-trapping pit, too afraid to move forward.

The flashes and black smoke from the explosions instantly appeared among the light cavalry. The grenades made in the border region were not very powerful and could not effectively kill the warhorses. Only the unfortunate horses that were right next to the exploding grenades would have their legs blown off.

However, the sound of a grenade exploding is very effective at frightening horses, which are timid animals.

After the explosion, the cavalrymen were terrified and their formation was thrown into chaos. Two horses had their legs blown off and fell down, and the remaining six riders instinctively retreated.

"kill!!!"

A deafening roar erupted from the bushes further away!
More than twenty players, clad in exquisite lamellar armor, charged out like tigers descending a mountain. Their target was clear: the two Iron Can Knights who were dazed and confused and struggling to get up!
"That redhead is mine!"

The tall, strong man, wielding a huge square armor-piercing hammer, roared and charged toward the Red Feather Knight with vengeful fury.

The Crimson Knight struggled to his feet, but the heavy armor-piercing hammer, accompanied by a whistling sound, slammed into the side of his helmet.

clang!
In an instant, the helmet, made of fine steel, visibly dented into a large dent. The enormous shockwave traveled through the helmet into the skull, and the Red Feather Knight felt a sudden darkness before his eyes and a ringing in his ears, as if struck by a giant bell, before collapsing again.

The second knight fell on a softer spot, and his horse had slowed down beforehand, so he drew his sword and got into position before the player could catch up.

As another player following behind the hammer lunged at the enemy, the knight swiftly stepped forward and stabbed him in the neck with his sword.

Click.

The neck armor plate was relatively thin at the joint, and the sharp edge of the knight's sword instantly pierced through the player's throat guard lining, crushing his cervical vertebrae and causing him to fall backward without a sound.

The knight, who had just killed an enemy, hadn't even had a chance to catch his breath before more players surrounded him, giving him no chance to breathe or retaliate.

Heavy armor-piercing hammers, long-handled axes, and pickaxes pounded down on the knight like iron being hammered. No matter how skilled he was, he was no match for four fists with two hands. Under such circumstances, he quickly fell to the ground, along with the first knight, and was surrounded and pounded by the attackers.

"Let you fucking charge with a gun!"

"You fucking stole my gun!"

"Pay with your life!"

Each heavy blow was accompanied by the players' angry roars.

The two knights wore custom-made, high-quality plate armor with excellent defensive capabilities, but under this dense barrage of blunt weapons targeting their weaknesses, the knights inside were quickly reduced to rotten flesh encased in iron.

The Red-feathered Knight's helmet was smashed completely out of shape, and blood gushed from the gaps in his visor and neck. The second knight's breastplate was deeply dented, and blood was gushing from his mouth and nose; he was clearly beyond saving.

The whole process was swift and brutal.

The light cavalry squires, stunned by the grenades and terrified by the ambush, dared not come forward to help. They could only watch helplessly as their invincible knight was brutally beaten to death by a group of "barbaric" infantry in the most primitive and violent way.

A few daring archers had barely fired their arrows when they were immediately met with retaliatory fire from the players who raised their flintlock pistols.

"Retreat, retreat quickly!"

The surviving light cavalry squad leader, seeing and hearing the intense gunfire, was terrified and turned his horse around to flee.

The other light cavalrymen also seemed to wake from a dream, and they all spurred their horses and galloped away, wishing they had two more legs. They didn't even care about the corpses of their comrades, let alone the two knights who had already turned into iron coffins.

The entire battle ended within three minutes.

The area in front of the bushes was a mess. Two warhorses were struggling and groaning in pain in the horse trap, but were quickly finished off by the player.

Two Reteria heavy knights died in an extremely frustrating and tragic manner at the edge of the pit, their priceless plate armor riddled with holes and covered in dirt and blood.

The players, panting heavily, looked at the loot on the ground, and finally revealed a savage grin of revenge. They quickly cleaned up the battlefield, stripping the knight of his relatively intact plate armor, looting his money pouch, family seal ring, and the two heavy lances and maces.

"Damn, this metal suit is so heavy, how much is it worth?!"

A player painstakingly removes a complete piece of breastplate.

"It's worth some money, but not much. It's fine for your own use, but it won't be easy to sell because secondhand battlefield armor like this only has collectible value. You can ask around and see who wants it... Chris's state-owned steel mill has a lot of standard plate armor for sale. If you have the money, you can even order custom-made pieces."

On the contrary, this money bag contains gold; it's a valuable item.

Another player excitedly weighed the bag of gold coins he had looted from the knight's corpse.

What's the most valuable thing?

"Of course it's horses... Damn, we lost money, we didn't capture a single horse."

"Stop talking nonsense and get out of here! We're here for revenge, not to make money!"

Hammer, who was in charge of directing the ambush, glanced warily into the distance.

"We'll talk about making money tomorrow. Let's think of a good way to steal the horses. With all this commotion, the other canneries must have heard it. Go and bring our horses over quickly, then we'll leave."

The players moved swiftly, disappearing into the dense undergrowth, leaving behind only the corpses of two knights stripped down to their shirts, several light cavalrymen, and dying horses, all telling the story of this meticulously planned, tit-for-tat revenge in the afterglow of the setting sun.

(End of this chapter)