Marching and Battle Reports
As Iron Hoof thundered across the wasteland, Victor bent down to receive the battle report from the messenger. The Count Colt's wax seal on the parchment gleamed a deep blue in the morning light—the emblem of the Governor of the Northern Frontier.
"Read it." Victor shook the reins, Grape immediately adjusted his pace to match the marching rhythm. The young scribe cleared his throat. "... On August 21st, our army ambushed the enemy in the Stone Forest Gorge, annihilating 2,400 and capturing 600 warhorses... On August 23rd, in the ambush battle Wild Horse River..."
Viscount Benjamin's carriage caught up from the side and rear. He pushed open the carved window. "My brother-in-law, that old fox, always targets Barbarians raiding parties." He pointed to a spot in the battle report, "Look here, three hundred Heavy Crossbowmen disguised themselves as a grain transport team, luring the Barbarians into the crossbow's firing range."
Victor gazed at the winding Ice Wind River in the distance, its surface dotted with Wrath of Ice and Snow Mountains. A day earlier, when they passed through the Stone Forest Gorge, they had witnessed the remnants of that ambush: the tatters of Heavy Crossbow, resembling short spears, remained on the cliffs; charred Barbarians round shields lay scattered at the bottom of the valley; and the corpses, pecked at by crows, still retained the postures of their escape.
"Report—!" A troop of Light Cavalry galloped in from the northeast. The scout captain, Ronaldo, fell to the ground as he dismounted. "A new battlefield has been discovered fifteen miles ahead!"
When Victor stepped into this river bend known as "Bloodthorn Beach," he gasped. Hundreds of Barbarians corpses were nailed together in a ring of wooden stakes, with the Crimson Maple Territory's griffin banner planted in the center.
"It's a deterrent tactic by Count Colt." Baron Brown used his sword to lift half of Barbarians totem flag. "Last month, the Crimson Maple Territory's troop transport was ambushed here, and the Governor's revenge is truly..."
The sudden sound of hooves interrupted their conversation. A small troop of messenger Cavalry in gold-trimmed black armor swept across the icy river. The moment the leader raised his bronze-inlaid horn, Victor recognized it as the governor's personal guard. The deep horn sound boomed across the river, startling a flock of vultures.
"Breaking news!" The messenger's voice was cold and hard, like the clash of metal. "Three days ago, the governor defeated a Barbarians force of ten thousand on the Ashen Plains!"
Viscount Benjamin gripped the carriage curtain tightly. "Detailed battle situation!"
"Our army lured the enemy deep into our territory with two thousand Light Cavalry. When the Barbarians pursued us to the Wind-Eroded Rock Zone, they lowered Fire Oil from the cliff tops on both sides." The messenger's horse trotted restlessly. "At the same time, the First Legion's Heavy Infantry blocked the valley entrance, and the crossbowmen launched a six-round volley..."
Victor closed his eyes, conjuring up a battlefield scene. The narrow terrain of the Wind-Eroded Rock Zone was indeed suitable for a combination of fire attacks and crossbow fire. Count Colt's audacity in using two thousand men as bait sent chills down Victor's spine—if it were him, he probably would have staked at most five hundred cavalry.
"Casualty ratio?" Baron Brown asked the crucial question.
"We annihilated 7,400 enemies, but lost 800 of our own." The messenger's voice carried a hint of pride. "Now the various Barbarians have withdrawn their defenses, and their main force is holed up in the Blackrock Mountain Hollow, not daring to make any rash moves."
As night fell, Victor sat in his tent, gazing intently at the sand table. Black flags, representing the Barbarians, were densely packed in the valley, surrounded by a dozen or so blue flags symbolizing victory—all commemorating Count Colt's achievements over the past month.
"You've figured it out?" Viscount Benjamin entered unnoticed, his iron gauntlet tracing arcs on the sand table. "My brother-in-law specializes in attacking the outer tribes, forcing the Barbarians force to constantly regroup." He tapped the sandbar heavily. "Now there are 80,000 barbarian soldiers crammed here, and the daily consumption of food and supplies for men and horses..."
A commotion suddenly arose outside the tent. Battalion Commander Raymond dragged in a Barbarians prisoner, half of his right ear missing—a mark Count Colt used on spies. "We caught this bastard three miles away; he has fresh intelligence on him."
The parchment map was unfurled under the oil lamp, and Victor's pupils contracted sharply. The map marked the locations of the granaries of various Barbarians, the ink still wet. What alarmed him most was the marker on the eastern side of Blackrock Mountain Hollow —three arrows pointing to Ice Wind Valley, the crucial point the Second Legion would pass through the next day.
"What a clever trick of using one tiger to devour another." Viscount Benjamin's one eye gleamed coldly in the shadows. "Count Colt is using us as bait."
Victor grabbed his sword and rushed out of the tent. The cold wind, carrying snowflakes, stung his face. He looked at the Black Rock Mountain to the north, which resembled a giant beast lying in wait, and felt as if it were a gaping maw ready to devour everything.
At dawn, as the Second Legion set off, Victor divided the entire army into three groups. Viscount Benjamin led the First Regiment in a grand procession along the main road, Baron Brown's Fourth Regiment moved stealthily along the western hills, and he himself led the Second Regiment of six hundred Light Cavalry on a reconnaissance mission.
Just past noon, Ronaldo's scouts returned with blood-stained arrows. Victor picked up an arrow shaft and sniffed it. "Pine resin, the Barbarians' homemade rockets." He glanced to the left at the snow-covered pine forest, "Send two squads of light infantry to inspect the canopy."
Half an hour later, the soldiers dragged more than a dozen Barbarians corpses from among the pine branches. These ambushers had frozen to death at their camouflage point, their stiff fingers still clutching unlit rockets. Ronaldo crouched down to examine the soles of the corpses' boots. "Not soldiers, but temporarily conscripted herdsmen." He crushed the red clay stuck to the soles of the boots. "From the Red Rock Tribe, a nomadic group two hundred miles from here."
The sound of horns suddenly ripped through the sky. Three plumes of smoke rose from the northeast, precisely in the direction of Viscount Benjamin's march. As Victor leaped onto his horse, he heard Ronaldo's exclamation—a dense swarm of Barbarian Rangers had appeared on the flank of six hundred Light Cavalry.
For some reason, these Barbarian Cavalry simply stood still and did not advance.
"Stay alert!" Victor drew the sword his father had given him. "Retreat to our lines!" The Light Cavalry slowly increased their speed and retreated towards the main force, quickly returning to the vanguard of the army. However, the Barbarian Cavalry did not pursue them.
After consulting with Viscount Benjamin, the two decided to remain vigilant, consolidate their marching formation, and continue their advance toward Ice Wind Valley.
As the pass of Ice Wind Valley came into view, Victor finally understood Count Colt's true intentions—a dense swarm of carrion birds circled overhead, and the outlines of Bed Crossbow were faintly visible on the cliff tops. The Governor of the Northern Frontier had long ago laid a trap here, and the Second Legion's mission was to lure the Barbarians into the ambush.
However, the Barbarians army did not pursue the Second Legion. Instead, they maintained a safe distance. It seems that they had suffered many losses and had become more cautious. It is also possible that they realized they were not prepared for a decisive battle.
After reuniting with the support team, Victor breathed a sigh of relief; being used as bait was not a pleasant experience.
Seeing that the plan had not been achieved, Count Colt simply led his troops away and arranged for messengers to inform the Second Legion that the governor would hold a ceremony to promote Victor to a noble title once they returned to their post.