The Idling Knight

As messenger after messenger galloped out of the camp, Hudson felt awkward. Others could call for reinforcements, but he couldn't do the same.

If Baron Redman learned of this news, he would likely personally bring his guards, and then the initiative would shift.

Having a father who was a traditional knight was good in normal times, but dangerous on the battlefield.

The moment he thought of charging with Baron Redman, Hudson decisively backed down. Compared to military achievements, he felt his life was more important.

To survive was to live for himself. If he died, even with great military achievements, others would claim them.

In the world of the extraordinary, small elite units could travel a hundred miles a day without issue, and even two to three hundred miles in emergencies, but untrained mobs could not.

They hadn't cultivated and were ordinary people. Coupled with long-term malnutrition, most of these people were in a sub-healthy state. Marching over a hundred miles in three days was not difficult, but it wasn't easy either.

As soon as their pace picked up, problems began to arise. During the march, they didn't feel much, but when it was time to set up camp, the awkward situation of "soldiers not knowing their general, and the general not knowing his soldiers" occurred.

The Coslo Family's situation was better. Thanks to Hudson's previous training, although they couldn't form ranks, at least the soldiers weren't lost.

However, when the final headcount was taken, there was still a problem: more than thirty people had appeared from who-knows-where.

The officer in charge of the headcount went to inquire, but these clueless fools couldn't even state their lord's full name.

If it weren't for the fact that undercover agents weren't common back then, Hudson would have treated them as spies. Of course, the main reason was that no one would send such a group of fools as spies.

Even when they set off the next morning, twelve soldiers were still unclaimed, which made Hudson speechless.

All the lords in the alliance had met, so why were there extra people?

It was difficult to conclude whether those guys were confused and didn't recognize them, or if other nobles had missed them. Hudson directly accepted the fact that his troop strength had increased by twelve.

The procession continued, but everyone's spirits were not high. It was evident that the previous night's events had taught them a valuable lesson.

The most obvious change was that everyone began sending their trusted confidantes to watch over their troops, for fear of another embarrassing incident.

Without any surprise, when they set up camp in the evening, there was still a problem. The various forces within the alliance, for some reason, were still mixed together, waiting for the lords to claim their men.

The farce repeated itself, and the most direct impact was that Hudson's status in the alliance soared, and he was hailed as "Elite Forces."

It was typical mutual flattery, and Hudson naturally couldn't refuse. He was hailed as "Elite Forces" in contrast to everyone else; denying this would make everyone else seem incompetent.

Hudson, with his decent emotional intelligence, readily accepted the title, and his soldiers' morale also surged as if they were truly "Elite Forces."

The titles were empty, but in reality, Hudson tearfully accepted the fact that his troop strength had increased by fifteen.

Now he was certain that besides the alliance, there were other noble armies nearby, and not far away. Otherwise, it was impossible to explain the fact that his soldiers were increasing.

Even though he knew this, Hudson still didn't meddle. It was better to keep the soldiers he found without making a fuss; sending them back proactively would seem foolish.

Although this practice did not conform to noble status or knightly spirit, it was very much like Hudson.

Soldiers who didn't require pay and were honest and obedient were as many as possible in Hudson's eyes.

Fortunately, the "high-intensity" marching only lasted a short time, and they reached the front lines on the third day. Otherwise, if he kept picking up soldiers along the way, Hudson truly worried that the original owners would come looking for them one day.

Looking at Ethel Fortress not far away, before they could even catch their breath, the rebels charged at them with a roar.

"No martial virtue, no knightly spirit at all."

Hudson grumbled inwardly.

There was no other way; since the enemy had charged, they had to fight.

The dictionary of a knight had the word "retreat," but not "fleeing without a fight."

As the nominal leader of the alliance, Chers unhesitatingly gave the order: "Everyone, charge with me!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the leader himself charged forward. Following him, the lords of the nobility responded, demonstrating the "bravery" of knights with their actions.

"Abandoning their troops to charge?"

The scene before him completely shattered Hudson's worldview. There was no way he could slip away under everyone's watchful eyes.

Fortunately, he was cautious enough to lead his army to the very rear from the beginning. At this moment, the chaotic formation in front blocked his path.

If it were other nobles, they would probably have spurred their horses forward, but Hudson, with his compassionate spirit, would not.

To avoid appearing out of place, a charge was necessary. Glancing at the battlefield, Hudson ordered his subordinate, "Tyre, lead the army with me to attack from the left flank."

After saying that, Hudson spurred his horse forward. At this moment, Chers had already led the noble knights into the rebel ranks. In just one encounter, seven or eight rebel soldiers blocking the way were decapitated.

In front of Chers, the rebels were like paper, easily cut. The noble knights following closely were not much inferior. Although not as swift as Chers, they were equally ruthless in killing.

Seeing his own troops slaughtering the enemy, Hudson's morale also soared. He couldn't help but exclaim, "As expected of a Great Knight, their individual combat capabilities are truly strong."

Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the battlefield, or perhaps it was the poor condition of the road ahead, but Hudson's mount suddenly experienced a problem.

Despite his best efforts to control it, the circles it ran grew wider and wider. While the distance to the rebels was constantly closing, there was still a significant gap.

"You beast, how can you be so cowardly? Where is your spirit of charging forward courageously? After this war is over, I will replace you immediately!"

Hudson couldn't help but scold.

Although he spoke fiercely, his body was very honest. After all, it was his mount, and he couldn't bring himself to whip it.

Seeing his comrades fighting on the front lines, Hudson gave them a look of helplessness. When he saw a lone enemy soldier approaching, he immediately raised his knight's lance and charged, killing the enemy with a single blow.

Perhaps because he didn't judge the angle correctly, the moment he pulled out his lance, blood splattered all over Hudson, instantly changing the color of his bright armor.

Seeing the blood, Hudson was not annoyed but filled with joy. He had finally broken his zero-kill record and wouldn't have to face anyone with shame after the battle.

As if unlocking a mysterious talent, Hudson kept to the edges of the battlefield, dealing with rebel soldiers who were equally sluggish and tried to attack him.