I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 503 Unruly

Olaf walked along the dilapidated dock, looking at the charred skeletons of the burned warehouse, the mess and filth scattered all over the place, and the swollen corpses floating and colliding in the sea. A mocking smile appeared on his scarred face.

"Weak chicken!"

Olaf, a seasoned fighter, deduced from the various traces left on the dock that the Maconians defending the dock had encountered a problem.

There weren't many snake-men attacking; at least compared to when they were in the Suvano region, there were only a couple of thousand snake-men at the dock, far from being overwhelming.

Judging from the ruins, the Macon people on the docks already possessed sturdy low walls and watchtowers before the battle. Judging from the dock's mooring points, the Macon people also had about ten ships at sea that could provide fire support during the battle.

In theory, they should have riddled the snake people who tried to approach the dock, or who had already entered the dock, with bullets, turning them into mincemeat.

But this is the result: part of the dock was burned, supplies were lost, the entire garrison was wiped out, and the ships at sea escaped... Why did Olaf know they escaped?

Because they're back now.

Olaf turned and looked at the dozen or so armed merchant ships that were rapidly approaching the dock on the distant sea. He immediately shook his head... He now looked down on the Maconians.

What a coward.

Olaf turned his back to the dock and looked around.

Besides the ships escaping at sea, the distribution of traces of battle inside the dock is also quite interesting.

The most intense signs of resistance, such as the dense bullet holes, the craters left by explosions, and the remains of human soldiers who fought and bit the snake people to death, are mostly concentrated near the low walls and watchtowers closer to the inland.

This shows that the initial outer defense line had gone through a bloody battle.

But the closer we got to the pier and the mooring point, the more something seemed wrong.

There were a lot of abandoned weapons and equipment scattered there, including muskets, spears, and even a few small cannons that should have been fixed to the low wall but were deliberately removed and eventually abandoned.

Most of the equipment was intact, and some of the muskets even had their barrels cleaned, which didn't look like they had fought to the last moment.

Even more noticeable is the distribution of the bodies.

Near the low wall, the corpses of human soldiers were often intertwined with those of snake people, maintaining a fighting stance.

The closer they got to the sea, the more gruesome the bodies appeared, suggesting they had been hacked from behind during a flight.

Many human soldiers, lying face down facing the sea, had deep, bone-revealing lacerations on their backs, their outstretched hands pointing desperately to the empty berths... where ships that should have provided fire support were supposed to be.

Olaf even found several human officers' bodies huddled together behind a pile of scattered wooden crates.

They were well-equipped and their armor was relatively intact, yet they died in a place far from where they were fighting. The fatal wounds also came from their backs, and one of the officers was still clutching a monocular telescope tightly in his hand.

"Pooh!"

Olaf spat a thick wad of phlegm on the ground, his mocking expression growing even more pronounced.

The truth is written on every inch of this land.

It was not a case of heroic resistance followed by unfortunate surrender.

Someone wavered and became afraid during the most intense part of the battle.

Clearly, some damned tycoons, or privileged individuals, were the first to think of running away. They may have tried to forcibly requisition ships to evacuate, or ordered artillery to turn and clear the way for their escape.

Their rout was like the first domino to fall, instantly shaking the entire defensive line.

When the soldiers saw that their master had escaped and that their hope of survival lay at sea, they no longer had the will to fight to the death.
The defenses collapsed instantly from the inside, and everyone rushed to the pier, trying to climb onto anything that could float, exposing their backs completely to the pursuing snake-men.

Seeing this, the armed ships at sea probably didn't want to run away themselves, but were afraid that these defeated soldiers would flood onto the ships like a plague, bringing chaos and death with them. So they simply made up their minds, weighed anchor, and fled the shore, leaving their comrades on the dock in utter despair.

"A bunch of good-for-nothing scum."

Olaf muttered a curse under his breath, his tone full of disdain.

Such an army, with such morale, would be nothing more than a flock of lambs to the slaughter, no matter how strong its fortifications or how good its weapons.

A true warrior may die in battle, but never in such a humiliating way, dying with such resentment because of the stupidity and cowardice of his comrades. Furthermore, the fighting in the dockside commercial district was even more intense than here. Although the civilians there killed fewer snake-men than the regular army, judging from the battle's traces, they fought to the very end.

"Rally! Rally!!!"

A sharp whistle rang out as a colonel from the Macon Union, accompanied by his guards, blew his whistle forcefully in a relatively intact open area of ​​the docks.

"Hurry, we need to get to Casarina town..."

Olaf ignored the sharp whistle and the colonel's desperate shouts.

He spat on the ground again, then turned and waved his thick arm at the Varangi Chapter players under his command, who were already eager to try and also showed disdain for the Maconians.

"Let's go that way..."

"Boss, where is that over there?"

“That’s the camp of the first brothers who landed on the island. The town is definitely destroyed, but they’re not all dead yet. We have to go and take a look.”

The second batch of mercenary players arriving at Casarina Island numbered over two thousand, thanks to the demands and lavish spending of the Macon Alliance. The group was comprised of roughly equal numbers of new and veteran players, and was led by officers appointed by the Macon Alliance.

Olaf and his Varangian Legion were also among them. Their numbers remained constant at around two hundred, which was about one-tenth of the second batch of mercenaries.

However, the fact that they numbered only one-tenth does not mean that the Varangi Legion was unimportant. On the contrary, in the eyes of the officers of the Macon Union, they were very important, even more important than a cavalry company.

The reason is simple: all two hundred members of the Varangian Legion are heavy infantry. On the battlefield, even against snake people, heavy infantry are the backbone and a crucial factor in determining the victory of a battle.

Therefore, when Olaf and his men attempted to leave the dock and head to the mercenary camp a few kilometers away, Colonel Macon, who was giving a speech, immediately noticed Olaf's actions.

"Halt! Commander Olaf, where are you going?!"

Colonel Helios, a member of the Macon Union, pushed aside the guards surrounding him, squeezed through the crowd, and strode toward Olaf, who was preparing to leave with his men. His military boots creaked as he hurriedly stepped on the messy ground.

Olaf didn't even turn his head. He simply raised a thick arm to signal the Varangian warriors behind him to keep going, then slowly turned around and coldly glanced at the colonel who was rushing towards him.

“Go where you are, Colonel.”

Olaf's voice was low, with a hint of barely perceptible impatience.

"Where should we go? Where is the place we should go?"

Colonel Helios stood frozen in front of Olaf, trying to straighten his back and overwhelm the mercenary leader, who was a head taller and twice as big.

"My order is for all landing forces to immediately regroup and advance towards the town of Casarina to recapture it. Your Varangi Regiment is a vital strike force; your departure will affect the course of the battle!"

He pointed to the distant outline of the town shrouded in mist, his tone firm.

Olaf glanced in the direction the colonel pointed, a sneer curling at the corner of his mouth.

“There’s no need to rush to retake that empty city. I think the mercenary camp is more important. There are still survivors there, and I want to support them.”

"Your actions constitute disobeying military orders!"

Colonel Helios frowned, his hand resting on the sword at his waist, while the guards behind him gripped their muskets tightly.

"Commander Olaf, I'm warning you, in wartime, disobeying orders is something I have the right to punish on the spot!"

"Our contract states that we are equals. The mission given to us by the Macon Alliance is to eliminate the snake people on the island and protect the security of the colony. As for how to do it, we can decide for ourselves."

As for your orders,..."

Olaf shook his head and turned away, no longer looking at the angry Colonel Helios.

"We're not interested."

After saying that, Olaf quickened his pace and followed the two hundred heavily armored warriors ahead, leaving the Macon Alliance officer behind, who was silently raging.

(End of this chapter)