Severely Weakened
Soon, night completely enveloped Carnford. The cold wind was still biting, but the castle was unusually warm, as if it had survived a disaster.
Inside the dilapidated Lord's Hall, the flickering flames of a few tallow candles illuminated the equally weary faces of Karl and the steward Edgar.
Edgar practically dragged himself in; his face was frighteningly pale, his eyes sunken and covered with spiderweb-like blood vessels.
His once neat clothes were now stained with blood, dust, and sweat, and he looked as if he had lost weight and was about to collapse.
He held in his hands a thick roll of parchment hastily made with charcoal pencil, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible:
"Sir... the preliminary... preliminary inventory and statistics... are complete..."
Looking at Edgar's appearance, Karl felt a pang of sorrow and guilt.
He quickly got up, helped Edgar, who was almost unable to stand, and sat him down on a chair next to him. He then poured him a glass of warm water and handed it to him.
"Speak slowly, Edgar, have some water first."
Edgar glanced gratefully at Karl, took the water glass, his hands trembling violently. He forced down a small sip to moisten his chapped lips before taking a deep breath and beginning to report on the incredibly heavy victory and its cost:
"My lord... our army... our original garrison consisted of cavalry, infantry, Musketeers, and archers, totaling seven hundred and fifty men..."
His voice was low and slow, each number carrying immense weight. "After days of fierce fighting, especially today's final counterattack and pursuit, we have suffered 317 dead and wounded... 183 seriously wounded and incapacitated... approximately 150 lightly wounded but still recovering... Currently, we have fewer than 100 soldiers who are fully fit and capable of basic combat..."
Of the 750 loyal soldiers, fewer than 100 are still able to take up arms!
This means that over 80% of the defending troops were either killed or maimed! What a devastating price to pay!
Edgar paused, then continued with difficulty, "The civilians... there were originally about 2,800 civilians in the territory, including able-bodied men, women, children, and the elderly... During the defense of the city, they assisted in transportation, medical care, and repairing fortifications, and... in the chaos when the Sauron finally stormed the outer city... there were casualties... about 1,500 casualties... of which 792 were confirmed dead..."
Not only soldiers, but civilians also made huge sacrifices, with nearly a quarter of the population killed or injured in the war.
The entire city of Carnford has suffered a severe blow, truly to the point of being crippled.
The hall fell into a deathly silence, broken only by the faint crackling of burning candles.
After a long silence, Karl finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "In other words, we traded the lives of nearly a thousand soldiers and civilians for at least five to six thousand casualties among the Sauron, and at least a year of safety..."
Edgar nodded heavily. "Yes, sir, Harald has suffered such a heavy blow that there is absolutely no possibility of organizing an effective attack on Carnford in the short term. We... have gained valuable time."
Precious time... is bought with blood and lives.
Karl took a deep breath. Now was not the time to wallow in grief; the living still needed his guidance.
"Are the compensation and resettlement plans for the fallen soldiers and civilians ready?" Karl asked, this being one of his biggest concerns right now.
Edgar's face showed extreme exhaustion and distress. "Sir, I'm sorry... Data collection, battlefield cleanup, and the resettlement of the wounded have exhausted all our manpower. The specific lists of those receiving compensation and the calculation of the amounts are simply... simply too late..."
Seeing Edgar's haggard appearance, almost fainting, Karl quickly waved his hand and said, "Alright, Edgar, stop talking. The pension isn't urgent. We can deal with it tomorrow... no, when you have time. Now, I order you, immediately! Right now! Go eat! Then go back and get a good night's sleep! This is the Lord's order! You must rest!"
Edgar opened his mouth, as if to say something, but seeing the undeniable concern and command in Karl's eyes, he finally let out a helpless sigh and nodded, "Yes... sir, I'll go right away."
He struggled to his feet, bowed to Karl, and staggered out of the hall.
Karl watched his departing figure, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
Edgar, Morr... these civilian staff members devoted just as much effort and endured just as much pressure as the soldiers on the front lines during this war.
The castle courtyard and several relatively well-preserved halls were now filled with the long-lost aroma of food.
The logistics personnel took out the last of the cured meat, dried vegetables, and grains stored in the warehouse, and cooked large pots of thick, hot soup, which were then distributed to each survivor.
This was truly the "Last Supper," but also the first meal after victory.
Each person held a steaming bowl, silently drinking the soup. Their faces showed little joy, only a numb weariness and a sense of bewilderment at surviving a catastrophe.
Karl arrived at the makeshift medical room, which was poorly equipped but crowded with wounded soldiers.
The infirmary was filled with the strong smell of blood, herbs, and suppressed groans.
Lina, Morian, and Old John moved among the wounded, busily performing simple cleaning and bandaging, but there were too many seriously wounded, and their efforts seemed like a drop in the ocean.
On a grass mat in a corner, Karl saw Sergeant Major Otto of the Firearm squad.
The robust man lay there, pale-faced, his body wrapped in bandages, his left arm splinted and clearly broken, and he had several deep wounds on his chest and legs.
Sitting beside him, carefully feeding him soup with a wooden spoon, was his wife Marissa, who was nearly full-term pregnant.
Marissa, with her large pregnant belly, moved somewhat clumsily, but her eyes were filled with focus and heartache.
She blew on the soup in the spoon to cool it down, muttering complaints in a low voice, her tone trembling with tears. "... I told you to be careful, to be careful! But you wouldn't listen! You insisted on being at the forefront... Now look what happened, you're injured like this... If... if you were gone, what would happen to me and the baby..."
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she held them back.
Otto grimaced, trying to smile and comfort his wife, but the movement aggravated his wound, causing him to gasp in pain. He weakly said, "Hey... don't cry... I'm alright, my Lord. We need to hold the walls. As the Sergeant Major, how can I... shrink to the back..."
There was no regret in his eyes, only a sense of satisfaction at having completed his mission.