I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 426 No choice
Just as the Holy Expeditionary Army's massive camp was rapidly taking shape like a steel and clamorous monster on the desolate coastline five kilometers from the Serpent Swamp, several pairs of eyes were watching it intently from the shadows beyond the reach of the players and Bagnian soldiers.

They are Minisians.

To be precise, they were survivors who, after the fall of the Suvano region, managed to escape the clutches of the snake people and hid in the nearby mountains, caves, and abandoned villages.

For these locals who have lost their homes and loved ones, and who struggle day and night to survive under the shadow of the snake-men patrols and the expanding terror swamp, every little thing that happens on this land is a matter of life and death.

The arrival of the Holy Expeditionary Army, a massive foreign force, was like a boulder thrown into stagnant waters where despair had long since vanished, creating ripples that were extremely complex.

About two kilometers away from the Holy Expeditionary Army's camp, there is a natural rock crevice hidden by dense withered vines and weathered boulders.

An old man, a man, and a woman were hiding inside, peeking out and looking towards the direction of the Holy Army.

The three hid in this secluded corner and observed in silence for a long time before the old man spoke first.

“They were not troops sent by King Charles.”

The old man was dressed in simple clothes made of animal hides and rags, and smelled of a mixture of earth and herbs. He had a single-handed short bow slung over his shoulder and a simple animal hide quiver hanging diagonally at his waist.

The man and woman immediately turned their gaze to the old man.

The man wearing leather armor with iron trim couldn't hold back any longer.

"Besides our king, would any other noble family here be willing to send their army to fight against the snake people?"

"Although I can't see their flags clearly from this distance, the size of the military camp and the discipline... they must be Bagnians."

"how is this possible?"

The man was getting impatient. He couldn't help but touch the armed sword at his waist, and then tried his best to keep his voice down.

"if not?"

The old man turned around and glanced at him sideways.

"Besides the Bagnians, is there any other possibility?"

"The kingdom will not abandon Suvana..."

"Shut up!"

The young woman, who had been silent all along, spoke up at this moment, immediately stopping the two who were about to start arguing.

“We need to make contact with them, whether they are Bagnians or Minisians. With so many people and so many vehicles coming here, they certainly aren't here for a picnic…”

The woman paused for a moment, and the man, just as she had expected, protested in a low voice.

"But if they are Bagnians, then they are our enemies..."

“The dead have no enemies. If we all die at the hands of the snake people, it doesn’t matter whether they are Bagnians or Minieses.”

The woman's words were like a bucket of cold water poured over the man's head, which was already feverish with excitement.

He opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but looking at the woman's eyes, still clear despite the grime, now filled with unquestionable determination, and the old man's worldly-wise yet helplessly murky gaze, he ultimately just slammed his fist hard against the cold stone wall, making a dull thud.

“Dead men…indeed have no enemies.”

The old man's voice was aged and hoarse, filled with heavy weariness, as he affirmed the woman's statement.

He turned his gaze once more to the brightly lit camp in the distance, the light symbolizing order and power appearing both dazzling and alluring in Suvano, a land shrouded in the shadow of death.

"But the living must face reality."

"The reality is..."

The woman decisively pointed out the cruelty of reality.

“The snake people are killing people every day and expanding that damned swamp every day. They are getting closer and closer to the cave where we are hiding.”

Last time, the people from the other side of the valley were discovered and all of them were dragged away, not even the children. How long can we hide here?
A month? Or should we wait until winter, when the swamp freezes solid?

Her voice carried suppressed anger, but even more so, a desperate courage.

"Where are King Charles's troops? Where are those high-ranking nobles? They have abandoned Suvano."

Now, whoever comes, as long as they're willing to kill the snake-hunters, it's our opportunity, even if... even if it's a deal with the devil!

The man closed his eyes in pain and leaned back against the stone wall. The wound on his left arm began to throb, reminding him of his comrades who had fallen to the snake-men's claws and fangs, and of the towering flames and desperate cries that erupted when the town fell.

Just then, a faint, extremely unsettling rustling sound came from the withered grass below the crevice in the rock, followed by several extremely faint hissing sounds, like the flicking of a venomous snake.

The sound is very close!

The three of them held their breath instantly, their bodies stiff as stone statues, their heartbeats seemingly stopping. The old man's hand flashed onto the hunting bow, the man's right hand gripped the hilt of his weapon, and the woman quickly pulled out a badge engraved with a trident from her bosom and held it in her hand.

The rustling sound lingered near the crevice for a moment, the eerie hissing sound seeming to be a form of communication.

After what felt like an eternity, the sound gradually faded away, disappearing into the shadows covered by withered vines.

Cold sweat soaked the backs of the three men. "The snake-man patrol is too close to us."

The old man's voice was very low, tinged with lingering fear.

"They were attracted by the commotion at the camp over there."

"Can't wait any longer!"

The woman suddenly opened her eyes, her previous hesitation and struggle replaced by a resolute determination.

A deathly silence spread through the crevice in the rock, broken only by the heavy breathing of the three men. The serpent-man patrol's hissing, so close at hand, had pierced their last shred of hesitation like cold steel needles.

"go!"

The woman's voice was hoarse, yet carried an undeniable power, breaking the silence.

She was the first to emerge from the crevice, her movements like a startled but purposeful hare, warily scanning the moonlit wilderness fragmented by withered vines and strange rocks.

"Follow me, don't make a sound, and step in my footprints!"

The old man followed closely behind, his unusually agile body moving through the shadows. His cloudy eyes were now as sharp as an eagle's, constantly scanning the dark corners where danger might be lurking.

The man was the last to emerge. He took a deep breath, suppressing the dull pain in his left arm wound and the churning resentment and fear in his heart. His right hand gripped the hilt of his armed sword tightly, his knuckles turning white.

He glanced one last time in the direction where the snake-man's voice had disappeared, a deep-seated hatred flashing in his eyes, before turning around and following the figure in front of him.

Two kilometers to the Holy Expeditionary Army camp might not seem like much under normal circumstances, but in the wilderness shrouded in the shadow of the Snake People, where patrols could appear at any moment, every step was a perilous journey.

They dared not venture into open areas, relying instead on the dry gullies, the raised mounds, and the vast thickets of withered thorns that stubbornly grew amidst the deathly atmosphere for cover.

The three of them saw more than once the remains of small animals that had been gnawed down to their bones, or large pools of foul-smelling, viscous, dark green slime that was clearly not human... those were traces left by the snake people.

Every rustle of wind or the slightest movement made their hearts clench.

The woman led the way, guided by her familiarity with her homeland and a hint of sea breeze, choosing the most secluded path.

The old man held his short bow halfway, an iron arrow resting loosely on the string, his ears twitching slightly as he caught any unusual sounds.

The man brought up the rear, his muscles tense, drawing his armed sword, ready to charge at any moment.

Time stretched on endlessly amidst the extreme tension.

Finally, the lights of the Holy Expeditionary Army camp drew closer, and the noisy voices, the clanging of metal, and even the occasional rough laughter and curses became clearly audible.

This voice, representing a powerful and orderly force, held a dizzying allure for the three at this moment, dispelling the chill seeping from their very bones.

They approached to within about two hundred meters of the camp's perimeter, where there was a relatively sparse patch of low bushes. Further ahead was a relatively open, trampled muddy area, leading directly to the camp's outer perimeter, where simple wooden barricades and patrolling soldiers stood.

The light from the campfire was already enough to clearly illuminate their silhouettes; getting any closer would exponentially increase the risk of exposure.

The three men lay prone behind the bushes, panting heavily; they needed some time to rest.

The woman, clearly the leader among the three, wiped the cold sweat and grime from her forehead, revealing her unusually bright eyes, filled with a desperate determination.

"This is it."

She lowered her voice.

“We go out, raise our hands high, and let them see that we have no hostile intentions.”

She glanced at the sword the man was gripping tightly in his hand.

The man gritted his teeth and laboriously planted his sword downwards, heavily into the mud in front of him, while the old man gently put down his hunting bow and quiver.

At this moment, a sudden change occurred!
Less than ten meters behind them, in a low-lying, shady spot, several patches of ground covered with dead leaves suddenly began to move without warning.

Those weren't snake-men, but three figures dressed in camouflage clothing that blended perfectly with the surrounding mud and withered grass. They seemed to appear out of thin air, their movements swift and silent, flanking the three in a fan shape, their weapons pointed at them.
"do not move!"

A deliberately lowered voice, yet carrying an unquestionable commanding tone, rang out.

The sudden attack was timed so precisely that it was breathtaking; the three of them didn't even have time to make any decent reaction.

The woman's heart pounded so hard it felt like it would jump out of her throat, but she was the first to react. She suddenly raised her hands high above her head, her fingers spread wide, clearly showing her empty palms.

"We have no hostility; we can take you to fight the snake people!"

She shouted with almost all her might, afraid that her words wouldn't be clear.

The old man followed closely behind, raising his arms high as well.

The man closed his eyes in pain, and after a while, he let out a whimper like a wounded beast before slowly and with great difficulty raising his hands above his head.

This action seemed to be a great humiliation for him.

Now that the target had surrendered, and it didn't seem to be a snakeman, the players who had surrounded them relaxed a bit and didn't remain tense.

(End of this chapter)