I, who was eager to retire, became an Imperial General.

Chapter 251 Jungle Guerrilla, A Girl's Prayer
John's decision to mobilize his army to confront the Bloodhowl Legion was not made on impulse.

Given their current situation, they have no other choice but to forcibly tear apart the Blood Howling Legion or be devoured by it.

After all, the Blazing Sun Fleet had already entered the artificial seaway, and the idea of ​​building temporary ships to cross the five-kilometer-long seaway from the west, surrounded by enemy warships, had become a pipe dream.

While retreating to the east might seem like a way to buy time, John was well aware that given Reginald's conservative nature, the enemy would inevitably leave at least five dreadnoughts to circumnavigate the islands.

Therefore, retreating to the east would only buy them a few hours of time, but they would still be caught in a pincer movement by the Allied landing forces in the south and the Bloodhowl Legion in the north, while also facing the threat of enemy naval gunfire from the eastern seas off Aiken, thus leading to a true dead end.

In comparison, heading north to confront the Bloodhowl Legion is the truly optimal solution for our side.

"Although, it's not exactly excellent."

After all, following the Black Rock Beach blocking battle, despite the pre-set traps and John's micro-management, their own forces have still been reduced to 1.1 men.

Even if we add up the number of the Dark Assassins Division members who are currently inside the enemy's territory, our side only has 2.6 troops.

Moreover, John couldn't be sure whether Galil, whom he had recruited as an Imperial spy, could persuade the division to fight for him in such dire circumstances, given such a significant disadvantage.

Therefore, if we were to make the worst-case scenario prediction, our side might have to fight an enemy force of 1.1 with only 6.5 troops.

The difference in troop strength was nearly six times!
It was utterly hopeless!
Moreover, the enemy forces far surpass our own in both basic and advanced combat capabilities, and the jungle terrain is the Blood Howling Legion's most proficient combat location.

Under such unfavorable conditions, it was almost impossible to launch a counterattack against the enemy.

"But only by achieving this level can I prove that I, John Maslow, am truly the chosen one, and I will surely accomplish this feat!"

"To win a victory beyond miracles!"

Two hours later, in a makeshift command tent in the central forest of Crescent Island, John took a deep breath after hearing the intelligence from his own frontline reconnaissance troops that they had discovered traces of the Bloodhowl Legion. He then solemnly ordered the officers of various ranks who had been waiting beside him:
"Order the troops to set off immediately and launch dispersed harassment attacks according to guerrilla tactics. All decoy units at all levels shall maintain constant communication and be ready to receive orders from above to lure the enemy. All firepower units at all levels must obey instructions and carry out their movements without error. Anyone who violates this order will be executed by the accompanying magic soldiers according to military orders!"

"In this desperate battle, I will not allow any mistakes to occur due to disobedience."

"If we succeed, I will share the glory of this battle with everyone present! If I break this oath, may my soul, John Maslow, be imprisoned by the god Descht and forever condemned to hell!"

Under the fervent gazes of the crowd, John slowly drew his magic pistol from his waist, then fired three shots into the dark night as a signal. Before the crowd's eyes, he turned the gun northwards to where the Bloodhowl Legion was located, and roared angrily:
"Imperial Army, follow me to crush those damned wolf-haired bastards and bring victory and glory to our Empire!"

"In the name of the Empire, all men, march!"

"Yes, Commander-in-Chief John Maslow!"

"despair!"

……

"Hmm? So, our reconnaissance units have discovered an Imperial force of about two hundred men ahead?"

Half an hour later, in the center of the Bloodhowl Legion's main force, which was marching through the jungle with torches in hand, Gromas couldn't help but raise an eyebrow slightly as he listened to the intelligence brought by his subordinates, and then fell into deep thought.

According to the intelligence report from the communications officer sent by Reginald regarding the southern battlefield, he now knows that the Imperial Army is suffering repeated defeats under the firepower of Allied naval guns and has now retreated to the mangrove defense line.

His destination on this march was also there, so as to cooperate with the Allied forces to completely surround and annihilate the enemy.

However, in his calculations, the first encounter between his troops and the Imperial reconnaissance forces should have been at least two hours later, not at this time, and certainly not in this jungle location.

Therefore, John Maslow somehow sensed the movement of his own side in advance and realized that staying put would only lead to being surrounded and killed, so he chose to lead his troops to engage in a direct battle with his own side.

He even fantasized about using tactics to defeat the Blood Howl Legion he led and obtain a survival opportunity that was impossible to achieve.

"How incredibly naive!"

Gromas suddenly grinned, but a fierce glint flashed in his blood-red eyes, and his expression became particularly ferocious under that terrifying gaze.

"Ouch!"

As if sensing its master's anger, the giant moon-devouring wolf beneath him couldn't help but raise its head and roar, its massive mouth opening wide to reveal a set of menacing and sharp fangs.

A large amount of clear saliva dripped from the corner of its mouth onto the grass below. Its glossy black fur bristled, and combined with its massive body, which resembled a small mountain, and its sharply defined muscles, its already frightening wolf head became even more terrifying at this moment.

"Moon Devourer, are you already itching to launch a satisfying hunt against those weak humans?"

Gromas gently stroked his mount's mane to calm its agitated state, but he did not issue the order to split up his forces to attack the unit.

Instead, he chuckled and summoned Noah Darkstab, the leader of the Darkstab Division, instructing him to send out Darkstab troops to scatter and collect traces of the Imperial Army, and to attempt to annihilate small groups of enemy troops.

He then ordered the army to continue advancing, but at a much slower pace, and instructed the troops to be constantly aware of the surrounding jungle.

Based on intelligence reports from the already destroyed Allied 7th and 5th Legions, Gromas realized that the young Imperial commander who had tried to fight him was extremely skilled at cutting off the battlefield and dividing the troops, and then using guerrilla tactics that even he himself found difficult to deal with, in order to defeat the enemy one by one.

Therefore, in his view, it was the most foolish decision to disperse the Bloodhowl Legion's forces to risk annihilating a small enemy force.

The Dark Assassins, on the other hand, are filthy bastards who don't even resemble orcs. In the eyes of the orcs, they have always been useful expendables.

Sending the other side to gather intelligence and conduct probes will not cause any losses to him, even if there are losses.

Moreover, there are too many suspicious points surrounding the fact that our side's march was exposed this time.

In addition, there was the Dark Assassin Legion's inexplicable attention to the Empire some time ago, and the miraculous survival of Galil Dark Assassin, the strongest young genius of the Dark Assassin Clan, from the Morning Star Front.

All of this made Gromas suspect that these bastards with demonic blood seemed to be wavering in their loyalty to the king.

The wisest decision would be to let the enemy disperse and create an intelligence advantage for our side, rather than keeping this unit, which may turn against us, around.

"Moreover, as long as Noah Darkstab, the current patriarch of the Darkstab family, is kept in the legion, even if someone in the Darkstab division has any ulterior motives, they will not dare to conceal any information when Noah's life is at any time. Instead, they will have no choice but to suppress their thoughts and continue to serve me to the death."

"With the worry of being betrayed by these idiots gone, all I need to do is keep pushing forward, ignore the harassment from the Imperial Army, and take advantage of the sacrifices of the Dark Assassin Division to find John Maslow's true main force."

"I will launch a storm of attacks with overwhelming force, and victory will be firmly in my grasp!"

"And the Bloodhowl Legion can thus usher in a long-awaited war of revenge against the Empire!"

In the darkness, gazing at the jungle ahead, obscured by countless weeds and unable to discern whether enemy troops were present, Gromas, gripping the reins, couldn't help but smile, then murmured playfully to himself:
"John Maslow, even if you are a genius, as long as I always stick together and don't give you any chance to split the battlefield, how will you resolve this absolute deadlock?"

"And what can you do to resolve this? Heh!"

……

"Even after being harassed by guerrillas and losing some troops, you still didn't split up to pursue them, but instead kept moving together? Gromas, at this time, you really are just like the character described in the story, an extremely troublesome bastard!"

Inside the advancing Imperial main force, listening to the messages from his own guerrilla unit through telepathic magic, John couldn't help but frown, his eyes turning dark and cold.

He intended to lure Gromas into diverting his troops deep into his territory through a surprise attack, thereby reducing the enemy's strength by dividing the main force of the enemy army.

But Gromas's current actions are undoubtedly telling him that the other side has seen through his tricks and will not give him the opportunity to achieve a balance of power through multiple divisions before engaging in a head-on battle.

Instead, they relied on their numerical superiority to gather and stick together, slowly searching for the exact location of their main force, using tactics as steady as a rock to completely wear down their own side.

This is clearly not what John wanted to see.

If Gromas continues to advance this "iron barrel advance" tactic, it is likely that within six hours, when the Allied forces cross the mangrove minefield used for delaying tactics and pursue them, they will face a situation of being attacked from both sides, and he will die without a burial place.

Right now, he desperately needs to defeat the Bloodhowl Legion. Only in this way can he conceal the whereabouts of his main force again before Reginald can pinpoint its location and launch a deadly artillery barrage, and use hide-and-seek to complete the final delaying battle.

John was well aware of his own firepower. Even if his troops' strength doubled under the pressure of dire circumstances, the probability of defeating the Bloodhowl Legion—whose condition and strength far surpassed his own—in a direct confrontation was less than 3%. And that 3% probability even included the possibility of calculating the enemy's movement and planting a large number of magical cannonballs at the actual battle point, blasting Gromas directly into the air upon detonation.

If the opponent discovers the ambush in advance, or does not step into the ambush point as expected, then our side's chances of winning may drop by another 2%.

With a one in ten chance, the probability of success was too low for John to even consider taking the gamble.

But Gromas's current performance has proven that his idea of ​​defeating them one by one is no longer feasible.

What he is left with now is either to wait for a pincer attack from both sides amidst this meaningless harassment, and then perish.

Alternatively, it would be like throwing an egg against a rock, resulting in being annihilated by the opponent's Grand-level power in a head-on battle.

"No, there's definitely still a chance, John. Think again, you can come up with a better battle plan, you definitely can!"

"After all, you are John Maslow, the unparalleled John Maslow!"

"You absolutely cannot give up like this, you absolutely cannot!"

John muttered to himself, while frantically activating the analytical techniques within his brain, extracting every piece of information about this battlefield area.

However, due to the micromanagement of the various units of the army on the Black Stone Beach front, which resulted in near-perfect avoidance of damage from naval guns, his mental capacity had already reached its limit.

At this moment, under the overload of operation, John was constantly subjected to indescribable, intense pain, and even heard strange noises like buzzing in his ears.

Blood was dripping uncontrollably from his nose, and veins were bulging on his handsome face. Combined with the twitching muscles, he looked extremely crazy.

John's unusual behavior naturally caught the attention of Wendy, who had been watching him closely. She wanted to speak up and stop John from doing such crazy things.

But after sensing John's unwavering determination through his eyes, she forcibly suppressed her unease and silently gripped the magic gun in her hand. She pressed her fingertips into the super-magical alloy, which was known for its hardness, without even noticing.

Instead, she kept staring at the figure in front of her with worried and uneasy blue eyes, a figure she had long chased like the sun, while silently praying for him in her heart.

Wendy knew she was stupid, lacking Hawke's intelligence to provide tactical assistance to the captain, and also unable to use her astonishing strength to help the enemy complete difficult tasks like Lieutenant Leia.

They also couldn't perform their respective tasks well under John's orders in a variety of ways, unlike the five company commanders who each had unique talents.

Although she and the members of Squad 14 were veterans who had followed the captain since the beginning of the battlefield, and had witnessed the captain's growth and true strategy in one difficult battle after another, and had seen the captain's most authentic self, they had long since become like family to each other.

But as John moved faster and faster, the radiance he revealed became increasingly dazzling.

Even now, he still tries to avoid the thought that he has been deliberately avoiding: the idea of ​​trying to become the one who truly understands the captain by diligently reading Maslow's quotes.

Or perhaps it's a way of deliberately highlighting one's own presence by teasing the other person, thereby erasing the growing distance between Wendy and the other person that has somehow become increasingly distant.

She eventually realized that, it seemed, during the time she spent with John, everyone was using their own talents to keep up with the captain and strive forward.

She, lacking any talent, remained stuck in the same place.

She knew that even with this kind of person, the captain wouldn't show any disdain; instead, he would treat her with the same sincerity as before.

But this wasn't the feeling Wendy wanted; she hated feeling weak.

She wanted to become more dazzling, more outstanding, to surpass everyone, to truly stand beside the captain, to walk alongside him, and to be sincerely praised by him as his greatest asset.

For her, an ordinary girl who had not inherited the miraculous magic of the Brown family and was forced to flee to the Empire with her parents to avoid the royal purge, and who survived under the protection of the esteemed His Majesty William, such a thing was nothing short of a pipe dream.

"But even so, I still want to do something."

Even if it means nothing.

"I simply cannot bear to watch this unfold!"

Staring at John, whose mouth and nose were gushing blood and who was frantically searching for a way out for his side, Wendy suppressed the stinging in her eyes and sniffed softly.

Then she silently and devoutly prayed in her heart:
"Great God of Gold, compassionate and benevolent Princess of Blessing, ancestors of the heroes of the Kingdom of Brown, if your will still protect the bloodline of Brown and still deeply loves the people of the world."

"Could you, at this moment, once again turn your gaze upon the one I am gazing upon, and bestow blessings upon him, smoothing away all his troubles?"

"For this reason, I am willing to bear the will of the Golden Tree. After my body perishes, my soul will voluntarily become burning fuel to replace the flawless Golden Throne in bearing the suffering of oppression and domination."

After praying, as if making a certain decision, Wendy began to pray the same prayer about the protection of the Golden Law that her mother had taught her countless times when she was young.

Twelve years later, on this foreign battlefield, I sing it aloud in my heart once more:

By the scales of creation, I call upon the cosmic balance.

By the scales of creation, I call for cosmic balance.

What is taken must be returned; what is given must be received.

What is taken must be returned; what is given must be received.

Let no debt linger in the void, nor excess corrupt the equilibrium.

Do not let debt lead to delusion, nor allow surplus to erode balance.

As gold reflects truth, so shall this exchange be pure.

Just as gold reflects truth, so too should this exchange be pure.

For every loss, a gain; for every sacrifice, a renewal.

Every loss can be compensated, and every sacrifice can lead to new life.

So I vow, and so it shall be.

This is my vow, and it will become a fixed rule.

“I, Wendy Brown, as a descendant of the Brown bloodline, hereby implore the golden light to shine forth.”

"Through the will of the Golden Tree, I beseech the gods to bestow upon the man before me, the commander named John Maslow, the blessing of 'luck,' so that he may overcome this perilous situation and, as a hero, bring true salvation to many who suffer!"

"clang!"

As Wendy's final prayer settled in her heart, the sound of an invisible scale falling echoed throughout this world.

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away, within the territory of the Kingdom of Brown, a vibrant green shoot miraculously sprouted from the roots of the withering Golden Tree. Unbeknownst to the guards who were chatting and joking with their companions, the roots, which were already rotten and hollow, constantly emitting a nauseating stench, and filled with a large amount of filthy black decaying matter, were in a state of flux.

A faint golden light flickered intermittently among the green leaves, stubbornly radiating its own brilliance in this dark and filthy corner unnoticed by anyone.

It was as if it wanted to do this, under the gentle gaze of the veiled statue of the blessed princess, which was directly facing the seedling.

Let this benevolence and gift, forgotten for thousands of years, be revived within the golden bloodline that has long been blinded by desire and become filthy, and let it possess irresistible majesty.

Replace the old king who is corrupt or has long been a puppet of other races, and let the Golden Clan welcome their true new king!

……

(End of this chapter)