Regrouping

After leaving Baron Wembley, Victor immediately went to Vice Legion Commander Ronald.

"Victor, you're here. Why didn't you spend more time talking with your father? He was quite worried about you this morning," Ronald teased.

"Thank you for your concern, Lord Ronald. I returned safely as well," Victor said seriously.

"So stiff and proper, just like your father when he was young," Ronald said helplessly.

"My Light Cavalry has suffered heavy losses. Your platoon is already among the most intact. Of the six squadron commanders, one was killed and two were seriously wounded. You'll temporarily take command of the Third Squadron. Fortunately, there probably won't be any more fighting, so the danger should be minimal," Ronald said casually.

"There's another task for you. This afternoon, take your squadron and patrol the outer edge of the battlefield. Gather up the routed troops from our side. Don't worry about fighting the northerners. If you encounter their men, retreat. I doubt they'll be eager to fight us either. They only sent cavalry, and their infantry hasn't caught up yet," Ronald instructed.

"Yes, Legion Commander Ronald," Victor replied.

"Proceed carefully. Your main objective is to gather the routed soldiers and learn the exact situation," Ronald reminded him.

Victor returned the military salute and turned to leave.

"Very good indeed. Too bad Elino is already engaged, and Catherine is too young. Otherwise, he'd make a fine son-in-law," Ronald murmured, stroking his chin.

After taking over as the temporary commander of the Third Squadron, Victor immediately looked into the condition of the three platoons under his command.

He discovered that apart from his own Seventh Platoon, which still retained a basic strength of more than forty men, the Eighth and Ninth Platoons had only around twenty men each and had suffered grievous losses.

Worse still, the commander of the Ninth Platoon had been killed, while the commander of the Eighth Platoon was Richard Violet, the second son of Baron Violet.

Victor knew that if the squadron was to regain its fighting strength, it had to be reorganized as soon as possible. So he found Richard and James and began discussing the matter.

"Richard, I plan to merge your Eighth Platoon with the Ninth Platoon to form a new Eighth Platoon," Victor said bluntly.

Though Richard was somewhat surprised, he knew this was the best option at the moment. He nodded in agreement. "I understand, Victor. I'll do everything I can to lead the new Eighth Platoon."

Victor then turned to James. "James, I need you to do something important. I want you to serve as deputy commander in Richard's platoon, while bringing your household soldiers to the Seventh Platoon."

Though James was reluctant to leave the comrades he had spent every day with, he understood the importance of the bigger picture. He answered firmly, "No problem, Victor. I'll give it everything I have."

Victor then appointed the loyal and dependable Santos as deputy commander of the Seventh Platoon. He knew Santos's experience and ability would be crucial to the Seventh Platoon.

Once the reorganization was complete, Victor arranged for everyone to eat. After lunch and a brief rest, the soldiers looked completely refreshed, and they had grown more familiar with one another.

Victor understood the importance of morale, so he specifically went to the logistics department to replenish arrows, throwing spears, and other equipment, ensuring every soldier had enough gear for the coming battle.

After announcing that their mission was to gather routed troops and emphasizing that they were to avoid needless fighting and prioritize their own survival, Victor led the Cavalry out.

An hour later.

Victor led the reorganized Third Squadron across the battlefield, searching for routed soldiers and gathering more intelligence about the battle.

The sun blazed overhead, and the air reeked of smoke and blood. Yet the soldiers remained highly alert. The fierce battle that had just erupted was still fresh in their minds.

Before long, they encountered the first group of routed soldiers—a Crossbowman Platoon from the Duchy's Direct Legion. Every crossbowman looked panicked, their armor battered and broken. They had clearly just come through a brutal fight. Victor signaled the troops to halt, then personally stepped forward and asked in a firm yet reassuring voice, "Brothers, where did you come from? What is the situation at the front?"

One of the leading crossbowmen panted heavily as he answered, still shaken. "Reporting, my lord, we're from the Duchy's Direct Legion. We just withdrew from the front line. The Northern Alliance's heavy cavalry is terrifying! Their black armor was like moving walls, and they smashed straight through our Spearman Phalanx!"

Victor frowned and pressed on. "Tell me in detail. How did they break through the formation?"

The crossbowman struggled to recall the scene, his voice trembling. "Their charge was unbelievably powerful. Our arrows couldn't pierce their Iron Birch Bark Armor at all. Even the knights' horses wore barding. Every warhorse stood nearly one meter eighty at the shoulder and weighed eight hundred kilograms. They were all Wind-Howling Steeds from the northern grasslands. They were like black waves. Everywhere they went, every blocking force was crushed."

Victor nodded, motioning for the crossbowmen to join the formation before arranging for them to rest temporarily. It seemed the Northern Alliance's heavy cavalry was far more terrifying than he had imagined.

Not long afterward, they encountered a second group of routed soldiers—a force of Serf Soldiers led by a knight. The group of more than a hundred men was equally exhausted, but their order remained intact. Victor rode forward and asked, "Which unit do you belong to, and who is your commanding officer?"

"My lord, I'm from Wright County in the central region. I am a knight of Baron Vise Rose, and my name is Jack. Baron Vise Rose has already fallen in battle, and our troops were completely scattered. I led the townsfolk I could find out of the battlefield."

Victor saluted Jack. "Knight Jack, I am Victor, temporary commander of the Third Squadron. Could you tell me about the situation at the front?"

Jack removed his helmet, revealing a resolute face. He sighed. "Lord Victor, the situation is bad. We encountered the Northern Alliance's elite cavalry. Their combat strength far exceeded our expectations. Our Spearman Phalanx collapsed the moment they charged, and we could only retreat in panic."

"How exactly does their cavalry fight?" Victor asked.

Jack recalled the battle, his tone heavy. "Their heavy cavalry formed a Wedge Formation. They were incredibly fast, and their charge was devastating. Our arrows were almost useless against them. Their armor was simply too thick. Moreover, their warhorses had received special training and worked together flawlessly. They were practically an invincible force."

Victor fell silent in thought for a moment before saying, "Thank you for the information, Knight Jack. We'll report this to the right-wing Main Camp as soon as possible. For now, lead your men and move with us. We'll do our best to protect you."

Jack nodded gratefully. "Thank you very much, Lord Victor. We'll follow closely behind you."

Victor then continued onward with the group. Before long, they encountered a third group of routed soldiers—a platoon of four messengers. These messengers had clearly met with misfortune while carrying out their task, but they might possess crucial intelligence. Victor quickly stepped forward and asked, "Where did you come from? Do you have any recent news about the Northern Alliance?"

One of the messengers hurriedly replied, "My lord, we are all messengers directly under the Second Legion. The Northern Alliance's heavy cavalry broke through the outer defensive line and charged straight at Grand Duke Jola's command post. The Grand Duke has already died in battle. I personally saw them carry out his body. The crest on his armor couldn't have been mistaken!"

Victor's heart tightened. The most important piece of news had been confirmed. He said to the messengers, "You've done well. Richard, immediately take twenty men and escort them to see the Legion Commander."

After saying that, Victor turned to the deputy at his side and ordered, "Santos, we'll keep the main force behind us. Help Knight Jack maintain order among the troops."

Richard accepted the order and left. Victor led this mixed force of more than two hundred men back toward the Main Camp.

They had already gathered enough intelligence. There was no need to continue collecting routed soldiers. Besides, if they went any farther, they would inevitably encounter the Northern Alliance's Cavalry. The group was too bloated now, morale was scattered, and they lacked enough core fighting strength. A single enemy charge might break them apart.

As he walked, Victor pondered, How could Baron Colt dare to kill Grand Duke Jola outright? Even if he was supporting Marquis Mora, there was no need to go that far. Unless his goal is more than simply backing someone's claim. There must be something even more important forcing him to be so ruthless.

After realizing this, Victor was not optimistic about his father's judgment. It seemed Count Colt's ambitions might be far greater than expected. The nobles of the entire eastern region might be in for massive bloodletting.