Siege Lifted
Thorsten and his surrendered cavalry were equally ruthless. For them, this was the best opportunity to prove their loyalty and worth. Only by being more ruthless than their enemies could they gain a foothold in front of their new master.
They mercilessly hacked at their former comrades, each blow fatal, as if trying to sever all ties with their past identities.
The defeated soldiers of Sauron had long lost all will to fight; exhausted, they didn't even have the strength to escape.
Faced with the onrushing cavalry, they could only let out desperate cries. Some collapsed to the ground, closing their eyes and waiting for death; some knelt down and kowtowed, weeping and begging for mercy; and some futilely waved their weapons, only to be overwhelmed by countless sabers in the next second.
Pleas for mercy were in vain. Lyon's cavalry showed no mercy. Sharp sabers and heavy maces fell, and whether resisting or surrendering, the outcome was the same—death.
One by one, heads were severed, and headless corpses convulsed as they fell into pools of blood.
On the wilderness, screams, pleas for mercy, the sounds of weapons piercing flesh, and the trampling of horses' hooves mingled together.
The battle, or rather this one-sided massacre, did not last long.
Faced with an enemy who had completely lost the will to resist and was exhausted, the cavalry were extremely efficient at killing.
In less than fifteen minutes, the once noisy wilderness gradually quieted down, leaving only the heavy breathing of warhorses and the faint groans of wounded soldiers before their deaths.
Looking around, the ground was covered with layers upon layers of corpses, leaving almost no open space.
Blood pooled into trickles, seeping into the parched land and turning vast swathes of wilderness dark red. The pungent stench of blood in the air was nauseating.
Lyon reined in his warhorse, stopping amidst the mountains of corpses and seas of blood.
He was covered in blood, his armor stained with bits of flesh and filth, and even his eyelashes were covered in blood.
He slowly raised his head and looked at the rising sun in the eastern sky, which had just emerged from the horizon and was casting its golden light upon the earth.
The sunlight was dazzling, yet it possessed a power to cleanse everything.
Lyon took a deep breath, the air, mixed with the stench of blood and the chill of the morning, filling his lungs.
He closed his eyes, and it seemed as if his father's resolute yet kind face would appear in his mind.
He cried out silently in his heart, filled with comfort and relief:
Father, did you see that?
I did it! I washed away the shame of the Northern Territory with the blood of the Sauron, and I avenged you!
Rest in peace, Father. The land of the Northern Territory will one day be ours again!
The soldiers had just cleaned up the battlefield.
The corpses of Sauron soldier and monsters were gathered together and buried in several deep pits to prevent them from rotting and causing a plague.
The severed heads of the Sauron were carefully preserved after simple embalming.
In Karl's eyes, these hideous heads were real strategic resources, hard currency to prove his military achievements to the kingdom and to earn rewards or political support.
Although the royal family is currently strapped for cash and direct rewards of gold and silver may be limited, these heads can certainly be given as "gifts" to powerful allies such as the Earl Rochefort.
With Fran City facing direct pressure from Sauron, the Count needed such a victory to demonstrate the value of the Northern Territory defenses to the kingdom's central government in order to secure more supplies and manpower.
Alternatively, they could "trade" with other relatively safe but prestigious inland Lord, exchanging heads for the gold, silver, and supplies that Carnford desperately needed.
In Karl's view, this was a reasonable deal where each party got what they needed.
After dealing with these tedious but necessary tasks, it was nearly noon.
The sunlight grew warmer, shining on the land that had just endured a bloody battle.
Just then, the deep, rhythmic sound of horses' hooves came from afar.
Soon, Lyon and Thorsten, leading their pursuing cavalry, appeared on the horizon, returning in triumph towards Carnford Castle.
Karl immediately went to meet him.
When he saw the group clearly, a huge weight was lifted from his heart.
Although the cavalrymen were all covered in blood and their horses were exhausted, the ranks remained basically orderly, and there was no obvious loss of manpower, indicating that they had not experienced a fierce war of attrition.
Even more striking is that almost every warhorse had more than one roughly treated, strung-together Sauron head hanging beside its saddle, swaying with the horse's movements, silently telling the story of the cruelty and glory of the pursuit.
The group stopped in the open space in front of the castle.
Lyon and Thorsten were the first to dismount, quickly walk up to Karl, and solemnly salute him.
Although their faces bore the exhaustion of a sleepless night, their eyes were filled with the excitement of victory and the determination to complete the mission.
"My lord!" Lyon's voice was hoarse from shouting for so long, but still booming. "Our army pursued the fleeing Sauron soldiers to within five kilometers. The enemy, numbering about eight hundred, has been almost entirely annihilated! A total of 674 heads have been confirmed! The remaining scattered fleeing soldiers have escaped into the deep mountains and are no longer a threat!"
He paused, then reported on the casualties, "In this battle, our army suffered ten minor wounds, mostly from arrow grazes or falls from their horses; three were seriously wounded, and have been treated by medics; and five were killed in action."
When stating the casualty figures, Lyon's voice dipped slightly, but he quickly recovered, "All were killed when they were separated from their units during the night raid and were caught in a monster counterattack."
Karl listened attentively, a surge of immense joy and relief welling up within him.
This daring night raid not only successfully disrupted Sauron's camp and burned a large amount of supplies, but more importantly, combined with Lyon's pursuit, it was almost equivalent to annihilating Hermod's vanguard force of nearly a thousand men!
Including the heads taken in the city wall defense battle, the total results exceeded 1,300! The cost to our side, especially the loss of our core cavalry force, was minimal, and we have almost retained our full combat strength.
This was undoubtedly a glorious victory, a victory that would shake the entire Northern Territory!
"Great! Excellent!" Karl couldn't hide his excitement, patting Lyon and Thorsten on the shoulder forcefully. "You did a fantastic job! Thank you for your hard work!"
He looked at Lyon, his eyes filled with admiration and deeper understanding. "Lyon, especially you, at the crucial moment, you were able to put aside personal grievances, prioritize the greater good, and cooperate sincerely with Thorsten, which led to such a decisive victory! You are a true commander!"
Lyon glanced at Thorsten beside him, nodded slightly, and said in a calm but firm tone, "You flatter me, sir. I was merely fulfilling the duties of a knight and officer."
Karl then turned to Thorsten, his tone becoming exceptionally solemn. "Thorsten, you and your men have proven your bravery and loyalty through your actions. Your performance in this pursuit was crucial."
"From this day forward, you and your cavalry will no longer be merely 'surrendered soldiers,' but a formal and indispensable part of the Carnford Army. I believe that with your talent, you will soon be able to stand on your own and shoulder even greater responsibilities!"
Upon hearing this, Thorsten's chest heaved violently, and a flicker of excitement and gratitude flashed in his eyes.
He immediately straightened up again, gave a perfect military salute, and said in a firm and resounding voice, "I swear to serve you to the death, sir! To serve Carnford! I will not fail you in your trust!"
Karl nodded in satisfaction. "Alright, everyone's exhausted after fighting all night. Lead your men back to camp immediately, have a hearty meal, and get a good night's sleep! Rewards and commendations can be arranged after everyone has recovered their strength!"
"Yes, sir!" Lyon and Thorsten responded in unison, then turned around, beckoning to their equally exhausted but victorious cavalrymen, and led their horses toward the camp.