I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 437 What are they doing here?
The Holy Expeditionary Force is steadily conquering the Serpent Swamp.

Byron stood on the cold, damp mudflats at the edge of the swamp, the murky water washing over the edges of his worn-out straw sandals, bringing a chill to his bones.

His dark brown linen robe was stained with mud and dampness, and the wide hood covered most of his face, revealing only his deeply wrinkled chin and chapped lips.

At this moment, he was hunched over, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his eyes clouded as he stared into the depths of the swamp filled with poisonous miasma and gunpowder smoke. He looked exactly like an old farmer who had been through many hardships and whose back had been bent by the weight of life.

Byron's appearance had nothing to do with that of a high priest.

Of course, he was not the high priest; he was just the former high priest.

Byron is now merely a member of the Holy Army, somewhat special, but without any real power.

This was His Majesty Chris's punishment, and Byron dared not disobey. This was also the main reason why he accepted Lord Diu Ni Rem's order to come and work.

The tyrannical king has shown Byron leniency, and he must be grateful.

In the distance, from the direction of the Holy Expeditionary Army's position, the roar of artillery fire could be heard intermittently, each explosion causing the muddy ground beneath their feet to tremble slightly.

Byron could now clearly feel the earth's suffering.

It is not the pain brought by war, which is merely a temporary itch for the earth, but a deeper and more fundamental filth and distortion.

The swamp where the snake people dwell is like a festering sore, constantly eroding the vitality of the land.

A faint glimmer of light flashed in Byron's cloudy eyes. He slowly squatted down, his right hand, covered in calluses and mud, gently pressing it onto the cold, slippery mudflats.

There was no chanting, no glorious ceremony, and not even the slightest leakage of energy.

He was like a weary old farmer, taking a break from his work, unconsciously touching the land that nurtured him. But the instant his palm touched the soil…

"Uh……"

Byron let out a muffled groan, his body swayed violently, and he almost fell over.

The priest standing to the side immediately knelt down and helped Byron up.

"Sir, what's wrong with you?"

"quick……"

Byron ignored the priest's concern and simply grabbed the priest's arm so hard that the priest instinctively cried out in pain.

"Quickly inform Commander Diunerem that the snake people are moving north in large numbers... there are a lot of them!"

……

Coincidentally, when the priest of the Earth Mother staggered back to the Holy Expeditionary Army's camp and hurriedly and disheveledly rushed into the commander's tent, Diu Ni Rem was listening to the scout's report with a frown.

The scouts were travel-worn, their faces bearing the marks of mud and fatigue characteristic of the swamp's edge, but their eyes were sharp and eager.

"My lord, we have discovered signs of a large-scale military buildup near the limestone pass on the side of the Naxi Mountains, thirty miles north of the swamp!"
"My lord, they are not snake people, but an army, a Miniese army... Judging from the flags near the pass, the tents outside, and the numerous pack animal tracks along the route, they number at least ten thousand, and their numbers are still increasing!"

"The limestone pass?"

Diu Ni Rem's brows furrowed even more, and his fingers unconsciously tapped the rough map spread on the table.

That pass is a passage to the heart of Minicia. At the end of the pass is the Naxi Fortress. This place is some distance from the core area of ​​the Snake Man Swamp, but not very far, only about 30 kilometers away.

So, the Minisians finally made their move, but what were they planning to do by gathering in that location?
Attack on the Holy Army?

But there's a snake-man swamp in the middle.

Are they going to kill the snake man?

Hey, if the Kingdom of Minicia had the courage, why didn't they come earlier? Why did they have to wait until autumn, when winter was almost here?
Entering the swamp at this time is not a good idea. The weather is getting colder, and apart from players wearing Death Legion suits and carrying flamethrowers, the actions of NPC soldiers will definitely be affected by the extreme weather.

What are the Minieses trying to do?
I'm completely baffled.

Just then, the tent flap was suddenly flung open, bringing in a damp, cold swampy smell and blinding afternoon light. The young priest practically stumbled into the tent.

"My lord, the High Priest... uh, Lord Byron sent me to report to you that a large number of snake people have headed north; they are leaving the swamp!"

"kindness!?"

Rem was stunned for a moment.

"Holy crap, now I know what the Minicians are here for..."

……

The gray rock pass is flanked by jagged, steep gray rock walls that look as if they were cleaved by giants. A biting wind howls through the narrow passage, stirring up dust and withered grass, and emitting a mournful wail.

Inside the pass, in stark contrast to the desolate and barren landscape outside, a bustling scene of tension and order unfolds.

The tents were densely packed against the rock face, forming a large camp area.

The campfire flickered in the cold wind, trying to dispel the chill of late autumn. The soldiers, wrapped in thick cloaks, huddled around the fire, rubbing their hands together, talking in hushed tones, or silently munching on their dry rations.

The neighing of warhorses, the low growls of pack animals, the clanging of metal equipment, and the shouts of officers mingled together, echoing in this natural stone urn, creating a suppressed clamor.

In the center of the camp, inside a command tent several times larger than the others, adorned with the Miniese scimitar whale flag, the atmosphere was distinctly different from the bustling outside, carrying a deliberate sense of calm.

General Norton Perrier, King Charles’s most trusted military commander, was standing before an unfolded map.

He stood tall and straight, and even in his heavy officer's leather armor, his seasoned experience couldn't be concealed. The gleaming whale emblem on his breastplate proclaimed his rank. "The scouts report that the Bagnians have definitely spotted us?"

Norton's voice was deep and steady, revealing little emotion.

"Yes, General."

An adjutant answered respectfully.

"As you instructed, we had two patrols run right into their reconnaissance squad at the entrance to the pass. They could clearly see the flags, the size of the campfire, and the tracks of the pack animals."

They retreated quickly, but they certainly took the message back with them.

Norton's lips curled into a barely perceptible smile, not a genuine laugh, but a chilling calculation.

"Very good, ten thousand?"
No, let them guess. They think the more soldiers we have, the better. The Holy Crusade... Hmph.

He pointed dismissively at the area on the map that represented the Snake Man Swamp.

"That Chris kid has too big an appetite. He's not satisfied with swallowing up the three southern provinces of our kingdom, he wants to stick his hands into this quagmire?"

Norton walked to the tent flap, lifted a corner of the heavy curtain, and a biting cold wind immediately rushed in.

He gazed at the soldiers shivering in the late autumn wind in the camp, a hint of solemnity flashing across his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by resolute determination.

"This swamp is a natural meat grinder. As autumn turns to winter, the poisonous miasma thickens, the mud grows colder, and the snake-men become even more frenzied..."

Norton lowered the curtain to keep out the cold and sighed.

"His Majesty's judgment may be correct. The Bagnians are too powerful. We cannot allow them to clear the swamp without any hindrance."

Norton turned around, his gaze returning to the location of the Grey Rock Pass on the map.

"We are here like a sword hanging over our heads. Whether it's ten thousand or twenty thousand, as long as our existence is confirmed, that commander with the strange name 'Dou Ni Rem' will have to be distracted and stop to observe."

He will be suspicious, he will hesitate, and he will worry that we are trying to take advantage of his misfortune, to reap the benefits, or to cut off his escape route.

Once he thinks that way, he'll hesitate.

The adjutant hesitated.

"Sir, are we really going to demonstrate our power here?"

What if the Bagnians ignore us and continue their assault on the swamp's core? Or... what if they turn around and attack us first?

"Attack us?"

Norton scoffed, "There's a mud pit full of snake people in between, how can he fight them? Fly over? As for them ignoring us..."

A cold light flashed in his eyes.

"Then let's be more proactive and send a few elite squads deep into the edge of the swamp to create some friction and let them know that we are not just for show."

His Majesty has given us only one task... stall!

Let's keep Chris's army bogged down on this damned swamp, through the winter, and let the cold, the mud, the poisonous miasma, and those disgusting snake-men wear down their morale and strength for us.

When spring arrives, the swamps thaw, the roads become muddy, their supply lines are stretched, and the soldiers are exhausted…

He didn't finish speaking, but the senior officers in the command tent all understood what he meant.

This is the kingdom's last elite army, the only trump card King Charles has left.

They cannot easily commit to a decisive battle with Bagnia's main force, nor can they rashly enter the Snake Man Swamp to their deaths.

The only viable strategy at present is to bluff here, using geographical and psychological deterrence to drag a powerful enemy into a quagmire of attrition.

"Order all units to strengthen camp defenses, double the number of sentry posts, and send out scouts in shifts to maintain a presence."

Norton gave the order, his voice regaining its usual coldness and hardness.

"Let the soldiers take turns resting to conserve their energy. This awful weather could freeze someone to death."

Remember, our enemy now is not the Bagnians, nor the Serpent People, but time, and the harsh winter! If we weather this storm, we will buy the kingdom a chance to breathe!

"Yes, General!"

The officers accepted the order in unison.

Norton Perrier sat back down in the bearskin-covered chair, closed his eyes, and unconsciously tapped his thigh with his fingers.

Outside the tent, the wind howled, and the faint sounds of soldiers' footsteps and the snorting of pack animals could be heard in the distance. He silently recited a prayer.

Chris, and that commander with the strange name, Diu Ni Rem... how will you deal with this blunt blade hanging on your flank?
His carefully laid plan to create a diversion had worked, and the commander of the Holy Expeditionary Army was indeed confused and hesitant, just as he had predicted.

However, the shrewd general and his Miniese soldiers, who were on high alert but were only there for a show, were completely unaware of what was going on.

Just as they were focused on the reaction of the northern Bagnians, a cold and deadly wind from the depths of the swamp was silently surging toward the gray rock pass where they were.

The gears of fate, between the dark swamp and the cold pass, began to turn violently in a direction neither side had anticipated.

(End of this chapter)