Transmigrated with a Demon-Refining Pot: Hehehe, Refine in an instant

"Yes." Ron stood up.

"Go back and recover from your injury. We'll need your acting skills again next time."

"I can't act anymore." Abaddon reached up and touched the wound on his neck.

"If I act again, I'll really die."

Ron tossed him a bottle of the serum, telling him to give the battle sheep a boost.

"With me here, you won't die."

The two rode back.

Behind them, the pursuing allied forces continued to advance southward, the sound of hooves and shouts of battle mingling together, like a storm sweeping across the plains.

Andrei caught up, his face flushed red, and he could barely speak.

"Baron Ron, we...we won!"

Ron nodded: "Your Excellency, it's up to you now. Make sure to clear out these fleeing soldiers properly and don't let too many escape."

"Let's press our advantage and take as many towns as possible before Earl Graystone can react."

Andrei paused for a moment, then his smile vanished.

"You're right. I'll send someone to the eastern front to deliver a message, instructing them to hold back Count Greystone's main force."

"We'll fight our way to that old codger Earl Greystone's castle and make him cede territory and pay reparations."

Hahaha......"

Ron glanced at him; these lords probably never intended to breach the Earl's castle.

It seems we need to increase their intensity.

If none of them had any ambition, how could I, Lord Ron, have fished in troubled waters?

For the next two days, the Allied forces encountered no significant resistance whatsoever.

They pushed forward swiftly and captured four or five towns and a small castle in succession.

Ron didn't gain much; there weren't many resources he needed in the town.

But his soldiers made a fortune.

The noblemen looked down on them, but the men did.

The Earl of Greystone's territory is very wealthy, and after two generations, it is no longer in the expansion stage.

The town's residents were mostly free people, and there were also many merchants; their wealth was just right for these soldiers.

Neither Ron nor the Alliance lords had any intention of taking over the earldom.

So they didn't care how their soldiers wreaked havoc here; it was a reward for the army.

Ron had previously ordered his soldiers to be restrained in order to annex territory.

Here, with no more restrictions, the soldiers were like rats entering a granary.

They worked in small teams, sweeping from house to house.

The lords gave them little time, and they dared not waste it.

One team even set a record by copying the names of fifty-seven properties in one night.

Ron's army did not bring any caravans; all logistical supplies were stored in the small garden.

Therefore, the soldiers would find ways to sell the looted items to the local lord's logistics team.

Although the price will be significantly reduced, everyone can still make a profit.

Ron walked down the street, preparing to discuss the next attack plan with Viscount Andrei.

I saw all sorts of chaotic scenes along the way.

Several soldiers emerged from a house, their clothes disheveled and their bodies laden with various spoils of war.

Upon seeing Ron, the other party quickly stopped and saluted, appearing to be one of Ron's subordinates.

Ron frowned.

He smelled blood; what had happened inside was self-evident.

But he didn't say much; that's how it is when you're defeated.

Ron could at best go back and order his soldiers not to go too far, and to kill fewer of those who did not resist.

He ignored the soldiers' behavior and continued on to find Andrei.

The eastern border of the Earl of Greystone.

Anthony stood motionless in front of the map, his back to the messenger.

The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, but his fingers were icy cold.

Herman is dead.

Hermann, who had followed him for thirty years, died on the Western Front.

He thought this was the beginning of his conquest of territory and expansion of his family.

Reality dealt him such a heavy blow.

The messenger lay prostrate on the ground, his forehead pressed against the cold earth, trembling all over, and recounted the situation on the western front in detail.

Defeat, massacre, the Allied forces advanced eastward, and Birch Castle had fallen.

"How many people are left?" The count's voice was eerily calm.

The messenger replied in a trembling voice, "The scattered soldiers are still running back. If we gather them together, there might be...maybe less than three hundred."

"Three hundred!" Count Anthony clenched his fist.

The forces he deployed on the western front to tie down the Allied forces were essentially wiped out.

Even Herman is dead, so even if the other knights manage to escape, there won't be many left.

Even if he's furious, he has to find a way to calm down.

If the western front is breached, it will be useless no matter how much advantage he has on the eastern front.

The troops left to defend the territory are absolutely no match for the coalition forces on the western front, which are capable of annihilating them.

He had to retreat.

"How's the situation up ahead?" the count asked, turning around.

The captain of the guards stepped forward:

"Lord Xavier is still attacking. The combined forces of Viscounts Hidegrass and Potato have suffered heavy casualties, but they are still holding on."

Lord Xavier said that if he had three more days, he could break through their lines.

"Three days," the count repeated, then chuckled, a cold laugh.

Three days. Three days later, the Western Allied forces may have even breached our Graystone Fortress.

"Order Xavier to halt the attack and withdraw the entire army. Leave a few squads behind to cover the retreat; all troops must withdraw to Graystone Castle within a day."

"Greystone Fortress must not be lost!" Anthony said resolutely.

The captain of the guard dared not ask any more questions.

"And another thing," the count said, walking to the table, spreading out a piece of parchment, and picking up a pen to write.

"Send a messenger to Viscount Mango. Tell him that I can cede Birch Castle and the area of ​​five surrounding towns as a condition for a ceasefire."

"If he leaves my territory, I can forgive and forget. Otherwise, it's a fight to the death."

The letter was short, and the handwriting was heavy. He folded it and stamped it with his seal.

The captain of the guard hesitated for a moment: "Sir, will Andrei agree?"

"Hmph! Let's keep them calm for now."

"I refuse to believe that just because he's stubborn, the other lords on his side will follow suit. There will always be those who back down."

"This kind of loose alliance is fine when there's a crisis, but it won't amount to anything if there isn't one."

Earl Greystone's guess was correct.

As expected, the lords on Ron's side had differing opinions on the plans below.

Some lords dared not offend Earl Greystone too much.

They were afraid that Earl Greystone would settle scores with them later.

Ron looked at these guys with exasperation. They were about to be swallowed up by the enemy, and they were still hesitating.

Having finally won and gained the upper hand, they didn't want to try and make the most of it.

Once they regain their strength, will you have another chance?

It will all be over sooner or later.

But Ron had to convince these guys.

Letting him lead his own men would result in too many casualties; we need these cannon fodder to hold the line.

After two days of wrangling, we finally reached a consensus and will continue fighting.

But by then, Earl Greystone had already returned to Greystone Castle from the eastern front. Ron Sesame was furious.

What a terrible teammate.

Just wait until I bring my troops here in the future, I'll make sure you're all annihilated.

P.S.: Guys, can you help me think of a name for the elf bug? Something a bit more classy, ​​like Golden Rose, for the upper-middle class or nobility.