I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 364 Prisoners of War and Revenge

When the fiery blossoms of the North Wind rockets bloomed on the battlefield, the Retalians finally lost and collapsed.

With heavy artillery and rockets blocking reinforcements from behind, and a heavy infantry force capable of withstanding a knight's charge from the front, plus an army exhausted from fighting for half a day, the knights of Leteria had done their best.

The surviving servants and infantry were the first to collapse.

They dropped their weapons, screamed in terror, and turned desperately to escape this life-devouring inferno. The chaos snowballed, shattering the small resistance that had been barely holding on.

Immediately afterwards, the loss of cover from the squires and archers caused more knights to panic.

Their warhorses, already terrified by the continuous artillery fire and explosions, were now completely out of control due to the riders' broken will. Some riders were thrown from their horses and instantly swallowed up by the chaotic crowd.

Others, carried away by their frightened horses, blindly fled to the flanks or rear, only to collide with even more retreating infantry, causing greater chaos and trampling.

The entire southern offensive force, like a punctured balloon, deflated and scattered instantly. The green uniforms of the Hegland troops surged out of the defensive line like a tide, beginning to pursue, divide, and encircle these demoralized enemies.

Shouts of battle, cries of surrender, and death wails replaced the battle cries of the charging knights.

However, amidst this collapsing torrent, there are still some figures, like rocks swimming against the current.

They were the surviving knight lords who carried square banners or triangular flags bearing their family crests, and the most loyal and valiant family knights and squires who surrounded them.

They witnessed the collapse, they saw despair, and they could still hear the siege cannons roaring behind them. They knew that the retreat was a perilous journey.

But they knew even better that if everyone fled in such a chaotic manner, they would only be completely annihilated by the pursuing enemy forces, leaving not even a spark of hope.

There were no grand words, only silent actions. These knights spontaneously and tacitly gathered around the lords who were still raising their banners.

They gave up fleeing, gave up all hope of survival. They formed a slender yet exceptionally steadfast dam, forged from steel, flesh and blood, and honor.

They no longer pursued victory, but only sought to buy even a minute more time for their retreating comrades. The knights even launched small-scale counter-charges, just to force the pursuers back a few steps and allow more fleeing soldiers to escape from behind them.

As a result, these people earned the respect of the players and received their full support.

On the rocky high ground, Chris lowered his binoculars.

The collapse of the main force of Leteria on the southern front was a foregone conclusion. He looked at the knights who were fighting against the tide of retreat, risking their lives to buy time for their comrades, and the last trace of surprise in his eyes turned into pure calm.

"Secretary."

"I'm here, Your Highness."

"Send someone to inform the various chapter commanders that if those knights are alive, they might be able to exchange them for mounts from the Reteria Empire."

"Understood, Your Highness."

The collapse of the Reteria army on the southern front immediately halted the enemy's futile offensive on the western front, and the enemy began a well-organized, rolling retreat, covering each other.

As for the Minicians on the eastern front, they were even more cunning. When the siege cannons were being used for calibration, they ran away without looking back, running away quickly and decisively.

If Chris were to send out cavalry at this time, he could certainly take the lives of these fleeing Minisians and chase them to the walls of Golden Harvest City. If even a few hundred of them made it into the city, they would be lucky.

Unfortunately, apart from the players, Chris didn't have a well-organized cavalry force at his disposal, so the idea of ​​hunting him down was just a pipe dream.

After realizing he couldn't handle the Minisians, Chris went to observe the southern front once again.

On the rocky highlands, after Chris's order was quickly relayed, the news that "capture the knight lord alive in exchange for a mount" reached the players, immediately igniting their enthusiasm for the hunt. The pursuit efficiency instantly reached its peak, and the target became even clearer.

Those knights and lords who were still waving their flags and putting up a stubborn resistance suddenly became the most sought-after "spoils of war".

Players are no longer satisfied with simply killing, but are trying to divide, surround, and disarm these last remaining cores of resistance, just like hunting wild beasts.

While this accelerated the rate of casualties among the latter, it also unexpectedly bought more time and space for the ordinary soldiers and low-ranking knights who were actually fleeing under their protection... because the pursuers' main attention was drawn to those "high-value targets".

The siege artillery on Rocky Heights has ceased firing. The scattered, elusive groups of people are not worth continuing to fire upon, as the players are pursuing them closely. Continuing to fire now would only increase the probability of friendly fire.

Players might not care about such a small thing, because the cost of resurrection has been removed after the campaign starts, but Chris is very bothered by it.

Players hit by heavy artillery, whether wearing armor or naked, will be bruised or maimed by a 16-pound shell, resulting in anything from minor injuries to being turned into mincemeat. This means that the cost of reviving a player is not low at all.

The resurrection of high-reputation players is especially troublesome.

Therefore, Chris is even less willing to have friendly fire incidents than the players.

As the last rays of the setting sun painted the Golden Harvest Plain red, the southern battlefield was left in ruins.

Broken armor, discarded weapons, and the corpses of fallen men and horses littered the ground, and the strong smell of blood and burnt flesh lingered for a long time.

The Iron Torrent of Knights, a symbol of Reteria's glory, crumbled completely under the relentless onslaught of Bagnia's impregnable walls and new weapons, turning into countless desolate ruins and fleeing figures on the plains.

……

The wind on the rocky highlands finally carried away the last whiff of gunpowder smoke, leaving only the thick, unyielding stench of blood and the smell of scorched earth.

Chris stood at the edge of the watchtower, the golden sunset casting a long shadow over him and bathing his calm face in a warm glow.

He looked down at the southern battlefield below, which resembled a scene ravaged by a giant beast. The tattered flags, twisted metal, dead men and horses, and dark red mud that covered the ground silently testified to the ferocity of the battle and the immense sacrifices made by the Hegland Legion.

The clerk, holding the preliminary report that had just been compiled, leisurely climbed the watchtower.

"Your Highness, the preliminary inventory is complete. Should we recite it?"

"read."

"In the main defense zone on the southern front, the Hegland Legion suffered approximately 3,200 casualties, including those killed or seriously wounded and rendered incapable of fighting. The core of the halberdiers suffered particularly heavy losses, almost being decimated."

Musketeers also suffered heavy losses, as did field artillery, engineers, logistics, and medical personnel.

Those with minor injuries who are still capable of fighting: approximately 1,800.

Officer losses included one colonel and three majors killed in action. The number of junior officers and sergeants was also heavy, with the exact figures still being tallied.

Conclusion: The Hegland Regiment suffered a total casualty rate of 64%, essentially losing its independent combat capability and urgently needing replenishment and rest. The Marquis Dirac himself is currently directing the aftermath.

Chris was silent for a moment. Of the 5,000 elite troops, only 1,800 lightly wounded soldiers remained with the strength to fight after a day of bloody battle. The loss was more shocking than he had expected.

Dirac and his soldiers built a true rock with their flesh and blood, withstanding the repeated attacks of the most ferocious iron cavalry of Leteria and laying the foundation for the final victory. This sacrifice was extremely heavy.

It also makes it seem as if Chris is deliberately sacrificing the Hegland Legion.

There's no need to mention the eastern front. The defenders on the western front—the Second and Third Corps—only suffered casualties of a little over three hundred men, a stark contrast to the three thousand two hundred men of the Hegland Corps.

However, Chris wasn't really trying to wear down the Hegland Legion on purpose. The Leterian attack was too intense and fierce today, with no respite for even half an hour.

Chris didn't dare order Hegland to withdraw and let other units take over, because it would take time for the new guards to step up and take over the defenses.

At the height of the battle, Chris was prepared for the collapse of the Highland Legion, but they persevered, leaving the 1,500-strong Overlord Tiger Legion behind the second line of defense bored out of their minds.

The Hegland Legion was indeed defeated by the Knights of Leteria, but perhaps the casualties were not that great. At the most intense and crucial moment of the battle, Chris did not dare to order the legion to retreat.

Chris was also hesitant about whether to order the Mountain Tigers to advance. He was afraid that if the players rushed in and slaughtered too many enemies, they would drive them back, causing Seba to not go all in.

While Chris hesitated, he waited for the Retalian all-in, which solved his problem.

Forget it, I'll summon Marquis Dirac later and talk to him about the reconstruction of the Hegland Legion. In the process, I'll offer him some compensation, hoping he can understand.

"Continue reporting." "Yes, sir."

The clerk continued.

"The Second Army suffered approximately 600 dead and seriously wounded, and about 400 slightly wounded. The exact number is still being tallied, as some soldiers have not yet returned to their camps."

Chris wasn't surprised by this situation; it was clear that some players had gotten carried away with the pursuit.

"How are the results?"

"The enemy abandoned corpses on the southern front, with a preliminary count of more than 7,000, including knights, squires, and infantry. There are about 2,000 seriously wounded prisoners, who have been transferred to the rear for custody and medical treatment."

As for the prisoners, there was only one count, whose identity has been confirmed. He was the southern commander of the Reteria army. He was attacked by Han-Tang warrior heavy cavalry while trying to rally the fleeing soldiers and was seriously wounded in the leg.

Of the four viscounts, three were seriously injured and one was slightly injured.

The baron had fifteen men, ten of whom were wounded.

Seventy-three knights were qualified to carry the pennant.

Squires, numbering approximately 180.

In total, 273 knights of high value were captured, along with an estimated 100 ordinary knights' squires and low-ranking officers whose identities are yet to be confirmed.

Upon hearing this, Chris couldn't help but curl up the corners of his mouth.

Although our side suffered heavy casualties in this battle, the casualties of the Retalians were even more devastating.

If this isn't a resounding victory, then what can be called a victory?!
"Pass down the order: the entire army will have an extra meal tonight, with three times the amount of meat and a beer for everyone, except for the sentries... Continue to maintain vigilance; the enemy may launch a counterattack tonight."

"Understood, Your Highness."

……

Seba Reteria, the son of the empire's lion, now resembled a caged beast with its claws plucked and drenched in a downpour.

He stood in the makeshift, rudimentary marching tent, so out of place with his status. The last rays of the setting sun shone through the gaps in the tent, casting shadows on his pale, dusty face and reflecting the lingering fear and unfathomable weariness in his eyes.

The atmosphere inside the tent was as oppressive as solidified lead.

Several court scribes and senior staff officers accompanying the army stood with their hands at their sides, not daring to utter a sound.

On the ground in the center of the tent lay a preliminary battle report, stained with mud and dark red marks, which had been risked to be brought back by a noble officer who had fled in disarray.

Each number above was like a poisoned dagger, piercing Seba's heart.

"Preliminary inventory...Southern route...Assembly point..."

The adjutant's voice was dry and hoarse, with an uncontrollable tremor.

"...Covered by enemy heavy artillery...the main force of the Knights...more than 70% casualties...Baron Carlisle...killed in action..."

Seba clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles cracking from the force.

Seventy percent!

And then there's Baron Carlisle, the border guard known for his bravery and loyalty...

And those viscounts and barons, the pride of the empire, those elite cavalry he had placed his hopes on and prepared to secure victory, were torn to shreds by the damned, hidden heavy artillery of the Bagnians before they could even launch their decisive charge.

"captive……"

Perrin's voice was even lower, and it trembled.

"...Count Karl Schwarzberg has been confirmed captured..."

"enough!"

Seba suddenly let out a beastly growl, his voice distorted by extreme anger and humiliation.

He grabbed the heavy silver wine jug from the table and smashed it to the ground. Wine mixed with shards of silverware splattered everywhere. The tent was filled with a rich aroma of wine, but it couldn't dispel the suffocating stench of blood and defeat.

The tent flap was suddenly flung open, and a night wind carrying the stench of blood and gunpowder blew in.

Several generals, their armor equally tattered and their faces stained with blood and weary, burst in. Leading them was the Marquis of Hohenheim, the commander in charge of the western offensive, whose face was even more grim than Seba's.

"Your Highness!"

The Marquis of Hohenheim's voice was low and suppressed, carrying an undisguised question.

"After receiving news of the collapse of the southern front, we immediately organized an orderly retreat, but those routed soldiers... those routed soldiers who fled from the southern front overwhelmed our rearguard like a flock of frightened sheep."

We lost two entire battalions of elite infantry just to barely hold our ground. What on earth happened?!
Where are the knights at the rallying point? Why didn't the Minieses suppress the Rocky Heights!?

The Marquis's gaze was sharp as an eagle's, fixed intently on Seba.

The Marquis of Hohenheim's family also suffered heavy losses in today's battle; one of his viscounts and several barons perished on the southern front. He now needs an explanation, and more importantly, someone to take responsibility for this disaster.

Seba met his gaze, his chest heaving, but he couldn't give a convincing answer.

Could it be that he misjudged the location of the Bagnians' heavy artillery? Was his intelligence misled by the Minieses? Did he invest the Empire's most elite forces into a meticulously designed death trap?

"Minesians!"

Another hot-tempered general, Baron Stein, roared.

"What's with those cunning hyenas and the artillery fire on the eastern front?"

Why are the Bagnians' heavy artillery able to bombard our knights without any restraint?! Did they collude with the Bagnians all along?!

“Minesians…”

Seba felt a lump in his throat. He thought of the strange, "fierce" artillery battle on the eastern front, and the decisive, swift retreat of the Minisians. A surge of burning anger rose up his spine.

He'd been tricked! He'd been used as a pawn to wear down Bagnia by those seemingly submissive Minisians, or rather, as bait to draw their fire!
"Now is not the time to pursue the Minisians!"

Marquis Hohenheim forcibly suppressed his anger, but his tone remained icy.

"The most urgent task is to gather the remaining soldiers and horses and reorganize the army..."

He paused, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Your Highness, we must send messengers to the Bagnians' camp as soon as possible to ransom the captured nobles."

Seba didn't speak; he just nodded vigorously.

“I will send someone to the Bagnia camp to negotiate with Chris. At the same time, I don’t want to let the Minisians get away with this either. Generals, let’s move out tomorrow and head to the east of Golden Harvest City to make up for our losses.”

"What are we going to do?"

"We can do whatever we want... We lost, but the Minisians absolutely cannot win!"

(End of this chapter)