Hermod's Report
Three days later, Fran City, inside Ulf's central command tent.
The atmosphere inside the tent was heavy; the crackling of the charcoal brazier could not dispel the oppressive chill.
Hermod knelt on the rough carpet, his tattered armor stained with dried blood and mud, his face showing exhaustion, fear, and a hint of resentment.
His head was pressed firmly against the ground, and he dared not look directly at the figure sitting upright in the large chair covered with a bearskin.
Ulf leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, his thick fingers interlaced and pressed against his chin, his expression shifting between light and shadow, like the sky before a storm.
His sharp eyes were fixed on Hermod, who was kneeling below, as if trying to see right through him.
Inside the tent, only Hermod's slightly heavy breathing and the crackling of the brazier could be heard.
Finally, Hermod began his laborious and embellished report in a dry, hoarse voice:
"Commander... Corps Commander, we...we failed..." he began with difficulty. "A few days ago, following your orders, we successfully surrounded Carnford, and...and as planned, Sorcerer Thor led the monster army in an attack..."
He paused slightly, as if organizing his thoughts, shifting the blame to external factors. "Initially... initially the offensive was manageable, but... but Carnford's fortifications were exceptionally strong, the defenders resisted fiercely, and... and they even had hundreds of elite cavalry hidden within! These cavalrymen constantly attacked from the city gates, harassing our troops, allowing the defenders on the walls to rotate and rest, maintaining a consistently high level of combat effectiveness..."
He deliberately exaggerated the number of Carnford cavalry in order to deflect responsibility.
Hermod glanced at Ulf, and seeing no reaction, had no choice but to continue, "And... and those monsters controlled by the Sorcerer Thor... my lord, as you know, they are utterly irrational and indiscriminate! Our warriors are unable to get close enough to the walls to provide effective ranged support, otherwise... otherwise we would be the first to suffer! Therefore... the siege... is progressing slowly..."
"Not to mention... not to mention, they even have a terrifying heavy Cannon hidden away, Corps Commander!" Hermod's voice suddenly rose, filled with lingering fear.
"Seeing that the siege ladders and monster charges were ineffective, we resorted to conventional tactics and deployed regular Shield-carts to try and get close to the city walls to cause damage or provide cover for the infantry. Those Shield-carts were made of the thickest wood and covered with cowhide! In theory, they should have been able to withstand ordinary arrows and falling rocks!"
He seemed to be transported back to that horrific scene, his voice trembling slightly. "But who could have imagined! Just when our Shield-carts were less than a hundred meters from the city wall, Carnford actually launched a cannon!"
He waved his arms, trying to describe the devastating scene. "The cannon barrel was so long! The caliber was huge! The gunners moved incredibly fast, we didn't even have time to react! The Cannon fired, and the first, most sturdy Shield-carts was blown to smithereens, along with the dozen or so brothers pushing it behind it, all gone in an instant!"
"This isn't over yet!" Hermod's face showed a near-collapse. "Their gunners are terrifyingly skilled. They reloaded, turned the cannon, and aimed at the next one! Our remaining Shield-carts were destroyed instantly!"
"Scrap metal and the severed limbs of our brothers were flying everywhere! In just a few volleys, all the Shield-carts we had painstakingly built were destroyed! Without the Shield-carts to protect us, our soldiers were exposed to their arrows and muskets, suffering heavy casualties. How... how can we fight this battle!"
When he got to the most crucial part of the defeat, Hermod's tone became even more hesitant. "Then... just a few nights ago, the Carnford garrison dared to launch a night raid on our camp with at least five hundred cavalry! They set fires everywhere, creating chaos..."
He then changed the subject, attempting to depict the bravery of his own side. "But our Sauron warriors quickly regained their footing! Under my command, the various units rapidly assembled, and it seemed they were about to encircle and annihilate this arrogant enemy force!"
Then, he dropped a carefully prepared bombshell, blaming the defeat on unforeseen circumstances. "But at this crucial moment! They... they actually had mages helping them! And not just one, but three!"
"One cast a vicious Fireball Spell; the flames ignite upon contact and are impossible to extinguish, causing immense panic and casualties among our troops! The other unleashes freezing cold; one of my personal guards was instantly frozen into an ice sculpture!"
"The most terrifying one is the third one. He... he can not only become invisible and stealthily move, but he can also summon magical blades out of thin air. He appears and disappears unpredictably, making him impossible to defend against! Corps Commander, it's not that your subordinates haven't tried their best, it's just that the enemy... the enemy has extraordinary evil magic at their disposal!"
Finally, he tried to excuse himself, even subtly shifting the blame to intelligence failure. "My lord, I am guilty of failing to fulfill your important mission, but... our reconnaissance of Carnford's strength was indeed severely inadequate. If we had known they had so many cavalry and... and mages, we would have adopted a completely different strategy... This... this is not entirely my fault..."
After listening to Hermod's flawed and evasive report, Ulf's lips curled into a cold smile.
He slowly straightened up, his gaze coldly fixed on Hermod, his voice low yet carrying an undeniable authority:
"Oh? So, according to you... Hermod, I'm supposed to take the blame for this crushing defeat? Was it because headquarters didn't send enough troops to you? Or was it because the intelligence department neglected its duties and failed to provide you with accurate information?"
His voice suddenly rose, filled with anger. "You have two thousand men under your command! And tens of thousands of monsters at your disposal. Even if you have to pile up corpses, you should at least do that!"
"Dealing with a border fortress that was only built a little over a month ago! Even if it has cavalry and mages, should it have suffered such a complete defeat, with its camp burned down and its vanguard almost entirely wiped out? Where was your command? Where was your tactical response?!"
Hermod trembled with fear and immediately kowtowed heavily on the ground. Luckily, there was a carpet inside, otherwise he would have been covered in blood. He repeatedly said, "Your subordinate wouldn't dare! Your subordinate never meant it! It's your subordinate's incompetence! Your subordinate deserves to die!"
Ulf stared intently at him, his chest heaving, clearly struggling to suppress his anger.
He knew that while killing a general on the battlefield might vent his anger, it would not benefit the overall situation, especially since it was a time when manpower was needed.
Although Hermod suffered a defeat in this battle, he had been brave in the past and loyal to the tribe and his army.
After a long silence, Ulf finally spoke coldly, making his decision. "Hermod, you have performed poorly in battle, causing heavy losses, and you have also used deceitful words to shirk responsibility. Your crimes are undeniable! However, considering your past merits, this unit will spare your life for the time being..."
Hearing this, Hermod breathed a slight sigh of relief, but his heart was still in suspense.
Ulf's tone shifted abruptly, becoming chilling. "Effective immediately, you are stripped of all your current positions, demoted to a regular centurion, and assigned to the Vanguard Camp to atone for your crimes! Next time we attack, you and your men will be the first to charge! If you dare retreat even half a step, or utter another lie... both crimes will be punished, and you will be executed without mercy! Get out of here!"
"Yes! Yes! Thank you, Corps Commander, for sparing my life! I will serve you to the death and atone for my crime!" Hermod felt as if he had been granted a pardon. He kowtowed hurriedly and then crawled out of the tent almost on his hands and feet, his back already soaked with cold sweat.
Ulf watched his disheveled retreating figure, a flash of disgust and weariness crossing his eyes.
He rubbed his temples, knowing that the battle against Carnford was likely far more difficult than he had initially anticipated.
While Hermod's words cannot be entirely trusted, it is likely true that Carnford has formidable cavalry and mages to his side.