I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 341 Opportunity
"Did they really win?"

Chris looked at the battle report and sighed with admiration.

He knew the players had a high probability of winning, but the sheer scale of the victory—capturing an entire military camp, taking nearly four thousand prisoners, seizing mountains of supplies and five thousand horses—far exceeded his most optimistic estimate.

Of the 5,000 horses, players will take more than 3,000, leaving about 2,000. They will likely sell these remaining horses to the logistics officer in exchange for military merits and equipment.

Besides, players will either collect a small portion of the most valuable loot loot from the Retalians or sell it privately on the black market, but most of the spoils will be sold through the quartermaster.

In other words, most, or even the majority, of the profits from the player taking over the Retalia military camp actually ended up in Chris's pocket.

This is the advantage of the platform.

Then, Chris was put in a difficult position by the player's subsequent request.

It wasn't just because of the four thousand prisoners of war; the sheer number of Retalians had caught him off guard, leaving him unsure of how to proceed.

Secondly, the players wanted Chris to send troops to take over the defense of that military camp, which he also found somewhat difficult.

The reason is simple: a lack of manpower.

Chris is currently in dire need of manpower. The five defense regiments and the Hygrand regiment that he ordered are already in place, which, if you round it up, amounts to about 10,000 men. The number of soldiers seems quite large.

However, compared to the Leterian invaders reported in the intelligence, 10,000 men seemed a bit insufficient.

Chris felt it was a bit dangerous to have to split his forces into enemy lines just because the players requested it, since they were already outnumbered.

He could easily imagine that once he sent out a sufficiently large force, this lone army would immediately become the most tempting target in the eyes of several surrounding Retalian camps.

They will be surrounded by superior forces, their supply lines cut off, and eventually they will be ground up and eaten up little by little.

This would not only waste his precious regular army forces, but also render the player's hard-won gains meaningless, and might even become a springboard for the enemy's counterattack.

But will that happen?
Chris was unsure. He was self-aware that he had no military talent and his judgment of the situation was more inclined to use force to overwhelm others and overcome cleverness with brute force.

After thinking it over, Chris felt that refusing wouldn't be good either, as it would dampen the players' enthusiasm.

When dispatching troops to the province of Chivelevka, besides the number of soldiers, the most important factor should be the generals with their own judgment. Whether or not to take risks should be left to the officers at the front to decide.

After thinking about this, Chris relaxed immediately. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and quickly wrote a letter.

"Someone...send this letter to Tavitsky as quickly as possible and deliver it to Major General Marlow."

Alright, the problem has been temporarily handed over; now it's time to deal with the prisoners of war.

Chris scratched his head, looking rather troubled. To be honest, at that moment, he also thought about just killing them all.

However, the consequences of directly massacring prisoners of war were too great, so Chris only considered it but did not dare to carry it out.

First of all, killing so many Reterian prisoners of war would definitely become a secret. Once this was done, all the Reterians fighting against the Kingdom of Bagnia, from noble lords to serfs and soldiers, would fight desperately and would never surrender.

Secondly, if action is to be taken, deciding who to take the action is also a major issue.

If it were the defense forces, it would cause their discipline to collapse. This was a new army that Chris had painstakingly trained. Regardless of their combat capabilities, they were trained with high salaries and rigorous discipline, making them better than any feudal army.

If they were ordered to massacre prisoners of war, the defense soldiers would certainly carry it out, but once they did, their discipline would inevitably collapse.

If the defense forces aren't allowed to take action, then let the players do it?

Then Chris will face a problem.

The player has made a move; should their reputation be deducted?

If you deduct reputation, the players who actually do it will definitely complain about Chris. If you don't deduct reputation, they'll get addicted to killing. So what can you do?
Chris shivered.

Forget it, let's not kill the prisoners of war.

Give the players orders to send the prisoners of war back. Send some to the Anvil to farm, and others to Bagnia to build railways. Distribute them among the prisoners. In the process, try the most heinous criminals, and let the rest atone for their sins with labor.

Chris has extensive experience with labor atonement. Some of the soldiers who were his enemies during the Bagnian Civil War, as well as some of the Miniese invaders, have now completed their labor reform and been released.

Those who have homes can go home, while those who don't can register with the local Baghnia civil affairs department to obtain temporary identity documents and then work locally.

Whether it's using the Ministry of Agriculture's sponsorship to rent land as a tenant farmer, work as a logger, work in a factory, or work as a road construction worker, these are all jobs that can support a family.

While the jobs mentioned above may not lead to great wealth, they will at least guarantee a comfortable life.

Now that the Retalians are doing it this way, it can speed up the railway construction process. Chris thinks it's a good idea, so let's do it this way.

Chris has figured out how to deal with the prisoners of war in Retalia. The rest, such as how to specifically resettle them, is not Chris's business; that's the job of the lower-level officials.

As the civil service exams progressed, Chinese-speaking officials continued to join Chris's team, significantly reducing his workload. He only needed to manage the overall direction, while the details were handled by others.

Chris only needs to do one thing well... reward civil servants who do well and punish those who do bad things.

Chris sent a messenger in the morning, and another messenger sent by Major General Marlowe arrived at Anvil Fortress in the afternoon.

In the letter, Major General Marlowe described his idea in great detail, while Chris distilled the essence of the former into just two words: feasible.

Chris put down Major General Marlowe's meticulously worded and insightful reply, a look of understanding on his face.

Behind Marlowe's word "feasible" was a meticulously calculated risk assessment and a precise grasp of the opportunity. The young general's judgment reassured Chris.

"Since it's feasible, let's push it forward with all our might!"

A sharp glint flashed in Chris's eyes. Without further hesitation, he immediately spread out the order form, dipped his brush in ink, and began to write with flowing strokes.

Major General Marlowe's Ninth and Tenth Legions will advance towards the player-occupied Reteria military camp, while Chris will lead the remaining three legions and Hegland to advance towards the vacated Tavitsky, where they will establish a new defensive line centered on the city.

In contrast to the mountains of Bagnia, while it does snow in Minicia in winter, it is not too cold for Bagnians as long as there are no blizzards. With enough warm clothing, they can carry out winter marches.

Compared to the Retalians from the south, Chris's soldiers had a certain degree of cold resistance and could endure the cold, allowing them to operate in winter, which was an advantage.

Since it's an advantage and the timing is right, let's take advantage of it.

If large-scale battles cannot be fought in winter, then the defensive line should be pushed forward, turning Tavitsky into a rear base.

……

With the decision regarding the Anvil Fortress finalized, orders were dispatched in all directions, while in the not-too-distant heart of the Dur province, another storm was brewing.

Seba Retelia, the third prince of the Retelia Empire, is currently in the temporary command center in the port city of Omdur, which has been converted from the local town hall.

The flames in the fireplace in the hall burned brightly, but they could not dispel the gloom between his brows or the chill rising in his heart.

What lay before Prince Leteria were the scattered intelligence brought back by the scouts at the risk of their lives, and the incoherent, fearful accounts of a few ragged, terrified, and barely conscious escapees.

"...A blizzard...emerged from the snow..." "In a strange explosion...the camp gate was breached...enemies were everywhere..."

"...The general is dead...the military camp has been breached..."

These testimonies seemed so fantastical and illogical that Seba instinctively suspected they were false.

However, the fall of the military camp was a real event, and the scouts sent out could not lie to him... One person may go mad, but all the scouts would not all lie to him in unison.

Seba stood up abruptly, oblivious to the fact that his heavy mink cloak had slipped to the ground. His handsome face was contorted with extreme shock and disbelief, and in his anger, he instinctively gripped the sword at his waist, his knuckles turning white.

"Really...we lost? No, we were overrun?!"

Seba's voice was low and hoarse, as if his throat had been rubbed with sandpaper.

He had anticipated border clashes, the harassment from the Bagnian barbarians, and even small-scale setbacks.

But how could a military camp, garrisoned by a count with over six thousand soldiers, well-supplied and with complete fortifications, be so swiftly and unexpectedly wiped out by a group of mountain people he had never taken seriously during a winter blizzard?!

This is utterly absurd! It's the most blatant insult to the military might of the Retelia Empire!
Horror, like an icy tide, instantly overwhelmed him.

But what followed was a volcanic eruption of rage, the shame searing through every nerve in his body. Seba Retelia, the esteemed prince of the empire, a strong contender for the future throne, had been so humiliated in his own war zone!

This was not only a military defeat, but also a fatal blow to his personal abilities and prestige. Once the news reached the capital, how would his covetous brothers and the opportunists in the palace ridicule him?

How will his father view him?

"Useless...all of them are useless!"

He suddenly kicked over the low table in front of him, scattering the map, ink bottle, and exquisite silver wine glass all over the floor with a crash.

His chest heaved violently, his eyes burning with fury, wishing he could immediately muster his army and crush that damned camp, those damned Bagnians, and Chris hiding behind the scenes into dust.

However, when Seba looked up at the window, reality hit him like a bucket of ice water.

Outside the window, the heavy snow continued to fall, creating a vast expanse of white.

The biting wind seeped in through the cracks in the stone fortress, causing Seba, who was accustomed to the warm climate of the south, to shiver. Although his army was large in number, the main force consisted of infantry and knights from the warm south.

The winters in this damned, bitterly cold land of Minicia are a severe test in themselves for any Retalian.

The snow was deep, the roads were difficult to travel, and the logistical supply lines were as fragile as spider webs.

Any large-scale mobilization or deployment under such severe weather conditions would be tantamount to suicide.

Soldiers would suffer frostbite and die, warhorses would collapse and perish, and supply wagons would be unable to move an inch... He had several times the number of troops as the enemy, but he was bound hand and foot by this damned winter.

This shouldn't have been a problem. Seba had already gathered enough food for his army to get through the winter, enough to feed most of them and allow them to stay put in the camp and get through this damned winter.

The Minisians, as the inhabitants, were also unable to assemble their troops this winter due to the civil war and would have to wait until next spring to take action.

However, at this moment, a change occurred.

"Damn, damn, damn!"

Seba growled, forcing himself to calm down.

Anger won't solve anything, it will only lead to greater failure. He took a few deep breaths of the cold air, suppressed his surging anger, and his eyes became sharp and gloomy again.

"Give me the order."

His voice was cold and hard as he commanded the recorder beside him.

"All military camps are to raise their alert level to the highest level, double the number of night patrols, and if there is heavy snow, the sentries must be on double duty!"
"Scouts...send out all the scouts! I need to know every single movement of those Bagnian barbarians, especially towards the Anvil Fortress. Report back immediately at the slightest sign of trouble! Anyone who disobeys will be executed!"

Seba could not launch a large-scale counterattack immediately, but he could not sit idly by and wait for his death, nor could he let the enemy think he was weak and vulnerable! He needed intelligence, he needed to know the pulse of the enemy.

Even if this order would increase the casualty rate among scouts, Seba was willing to do it.

A few days later, the surviving scouts, with their frozen fingers and exhausted warhorses, pieced together new pieces of intelligence for the third prince of Leteria.

They discovered that a Baghnia army of about four or five thousand men was braving the snowstorm, moving from the direction of Tavitsky along a relatively concealed route towards the fallen camp.

The scouts' descriptions of the unit's flags and equipment pointed to what Chris called the Bagnia Defense Force.

Seba immediately rushed to the huge battle map and slid his finger along the route.

His eyes were as sharp as a hawk's, and his mind raced. Four or five thousand men marching through the winter... their target was the military camp that had just been captured by the enemy, its defenses inevitably in disarray...

They were going to take over the defense; Chris wanted to drive that nail even deeper!

An idea slithered into Seba's mind like a venomous snake.

"Eat them!"

He couldn't launch a large-scale campaign, but what about annihilating such a lone, deep-rooted force?
What if, taking advantage of the speed and surprise of cavalry, a swift and unexpected attack was launched while the enemy was marching, under the cover of obstructed vision caused by bad weather?

This idea rekindled the passion in Prince Leteria's heart, which had been cold for several days.

Seba began to think; he was not without capable soldiers under his command.

Although the main infantry force was hampered by the severe cold, he still had several elite cavalry regiments. These knights and light cavalrymen from the northern provinces or central plains of the empire were relatively tolerant of the cold.

They could be deployed in winter simply by ordering them to replace the tall Leterian warhorses with the cold-resistant Bohemian warhorses.

On snow-covered plains, although the mobility of cavalry is limited, they still have a huge advantage over infantry struggling to trek through the snow.

"Did they think the wind and snow were their allies?"

Seba's lips curled into a cruel and cold smile, his eyes flashing with vengeance and bloodlust.

"Snowstorms can also become their graves. Order the 'Snow Wolf' thousand-man squadron and the 'North Wind' thousand-man squadron to assemble immediately, with the best cold-weather gear and spare horses. I want them to pounce on the Bagnians like a real wolf pack when they are most exhausted and least expect it, and tear them apart!"

He wanted Chris to know, and those damned barbarians to know, that the dignity of the Reteria Empire could not be trampled upon!

If he gets beaten, he must pay with ten times the blood, even in this damned winter, he must bite off a piece of the enemy's flesh!
Seba walked to the window and gazed at the boundless white world outside.

The blizzard seemed to have subsided somewhat, but the chill had intensified. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white again, this time not from anger, but from the excitement and icy resolve of the impending carnage.

"Chris... are you ready to face the Empire's wrath?"

He muttered to himself, his voice seemingly able to freeze the frost flowers on the windowpane. The firelight from the fireplace reflected in his eyes, flickering like an ominous crimson.

(End of this chapter)