Heavy Casualties
The inner city of Carnford is now completely overcrowded.
The once relatively spacious streets, squares, and even every inch of open space in front of the castle were now submerged by a dense, dark mass of people.
The remnants of the defeated soldiers who had retreated from the outer city, the refugees who had fled with their families, and the original residents of the inner city all huddled together.
The air was thick with the stench of sweat, blood, gunpowder, and the putrid smell of rotting wounds, almost suffocating.
The noise was deafening.
The heart-wrenching cries of women and children who had lost loved ones, the uncontrollable groans of wounded soldiers, the anxious calls of those searching for their lost family members, the hoarse shouts of soldiers maintaining order, and the suffocating fear and despair that permeated the air...
Karl moved through the chaos and despair, but he paid little attention to them. His eyes scanned the crowd anxiously, first looking for the Cavalry Company.
When he saw Lyon and Thorsten, supported by several guards and leading their wounded warhorses, staggering through the crowd, he immediately hurried to meet them.
Seeing that the two men, though covered in blood and with damaged armor, were clearly out of danger, Karl's tense nerves finally relaxed a little.
"My Lord ..." Lyon saw Karl and tried to bow, but Karl stopped him.
"What's the situation? What are the casualties?" Karl's voice was hoarse and urgent.
A deep pain flashed across Lyon's face as he whispered, "They're back... less than fifty riders, one hundred and twenty-three went out..."
Despite being mentally prepared, Karl still clenched his fists upon hearing the number.
The Cavalry Company was Carnford's most elite mobile force, and it was almost wiped out in this battle.
He patted Lyon and Thorsten's uninjured shoulders forcefully and said in a deep voice, "You... did a great job! Without your sacrifice to cover the retreat, at least half of the men would have been lost in the evacuation to the inner city. You accomplished an almost impossible task. Now, immediately take the brothers and their horses to the castle stables to rest and heal their wounds."
Lyon and Thorsten nodded heavily, saying nothing more; any words would have seemed inadequate at that moment.
After seeing the cavalry off, Karl continued to struggle through the chaotic crowd, his sharp eyes searching for Brendan's figure. He was afraid, afraid of hearing the worst news.
Finally, next to a makeshift first aid station built with door panels, he saw that familiar tall figure.
Brendan, with his back to him, was kneeling on one knee, clumsily bandaging a soldier with a severe leg wound with Cloth Strip. His armor was soaked in dark red blood, making it almost impossible to see its original color.
"Brendan!" Karl called out.
Brendan's body jolted, and he turned around abruptly.
Upon seeing Karl, a flicker of relief crossed his weary eyes, which were blackened by blood and gunpowder, but this was quickly replaced by a deeper sadness. He struggled to stand up and bow.
Karl rushed forward, grabbed his shoulder, and stopped him. "Don't move! How are you? Are you badly hurt?"
"Flesh and blood wounds, nothing serious." Brendan shook his head, his voice hoarse. He glanced at the hellish scene around him, closed his eyes in pain, then suddenly opened them again, looking at Karl. "My lord... we... did our best. Most of those who could retreat have come back... but the outer city... is completely lost."
His tone was filled with helplessness and deep self-blame, as if the fall of the outer city was entirely his fault.
Karl could clearly sense the heaviness and frustration in his old subordinate's heart. He squeezed Brendan's shoulder tightly, trying to convey a bit of strength, and said in as firm a tone as possible, "No, Brendan, you've done enough! To be able to organize an effective rearguard under those circumstances and bring back most of the people and soldiers is a miracle in itself! Your survival is the best news for me and for Carnford!"
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the terrified crowd before finally settling on Brendan's eyes, as if speaking to him, and also to himself. "We still have the inner city! That wall is stronger than the outer city! Our food and arrow reserves can last for a while! Harald suffered heavy casualties in this battle, and his morale has been dampened! As long as we can hold the inner city and blunt their advance, there might still be a chance for a turnaround!"
However, Brendan noticed the barely concealed hesitation behind Karl's forced composure and understood that the Lord's words were more of a reassurance than a genuine expression of confidence.
No matter how fortified the inner city was, it could not withstand endless attrition, and the Sauron army still held an absolute advantage in strength.
But he didn't say anything, only nodded heavily and replied hoarsely, "Yes, sir! We... will hold out to the end!"
With the side gate of Carnford's inner city completely closed and bolted shut, the last connection with the outside world was severed, officially marking the complete fall of the outer city.
The last rays of the setting sun sank completely below the horizon like a sigh, and night began to envelop this ravaged land.
The outer city was not completely silent; in the shadows of the ruins and among the dilapidated houses, sporadic, desperate cries of resistance could still be heard.
Those were the few Carnford soldiers and civilians who had failed to retreat into the inner city in time, making their last, hopeless struggle.
This is often followed by the excited howls of Sauron soldier upon spotting their prey, the muffled thuds of weapons piercing flesh, and the agonizing screams of the dying.
Further away, the faint sounds of the Sauron's cruel laughter as they executed prisoners and the brief, piercing screams of the victims could still be heard.
These sounds drifted in the night wind, adding to the hellish atmosphere of this scorched land.
Surrounded by a group of high-ranking generals and personal guards, Harald ascended to the highest point of the dilapidated outer city wall.
He stood with his hands behind his back, silently looking down at the outer city area that had been almost completely razed to the ground.
As far as the eye could see, there were only broken walls and ruins, charred wood, scattered weapons, and layers upon layers of corpses that had begun to emit a foul odor.
Further away, the inner city revealed a blurry yet solid outline in the night, with scattered torches on the city walls like vigilant eyes in the darkness, foreshadowing that tomorrow's battle would be anything but easy.
Nighttime is not conducive to a large-scale siege, so after clearing out the remaining enemy forces in the outer city, Sauron army temporarily halted its attack and began to rest and prepare for the final assault the next day. However, the chilling atmosphere in the air did not diminish in the slightest.
"Have the statistics been compiled yet?" Harald's voice was calm and expressionless, revealing neither joy nor anger.
The Quartermaster beside him hurriedly stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly. "Reporting to the Great Chieftain... a preliminary count shows that our army... has suffered heavy casualties. Those who drove away the siege slaves, died in battle, or succumbed to their wounds exceed five thousand."
"Over three hundred of our elite Plate Armor Knight and Heavy Armor Infantry were killed in action; all were brave warriors of our tribe. The remaining troops and Auxiliary Army suffered a total of two to three thousand casualties..."