Strike First

The next day, just as expected, the Barbarians put on a show of attacking the city in the morning, frightening off certain restless people within Ironwall City.

Then they abandoned vast quantities of supplies and retreated with lightning speed.

Only Derek led an elite force trailing them from afar, as if monitoring their departure from the border.

It was not that no Barbarians tried to retaliate, but whenever they sent many men, Derek immediately turned and left; whenever they sent too few, they were not enough to withstand even a single charge from him.

It was a pure sticky-tape tactic.

The Barbarian commander had kept his eye on this troublesome enemy the entire time and realized that this defeat had not been undeserved.

There could be all manner of accidents and strokes of luck on the battlefield, but there was absolutely no luck involved in this kind of command during battle.

Not every general could judge the distance so precisely. Derek kept trailing them neither too closely nor too far away, making the Barbarians deeply uncomfortable.

If they dealt with him, they would lose time.

If they ignored him, he was a bone stuck in their throats.

Any thoughts of doing something during the retreat were now out of the question as well.

"He's a troublesome fellow. We must find out where he came from. I have a feeling... he may become a major obstacle to our march south."

The Barbarian commander sighed. Could it be that the Locke people's fortunes had not yet run out?

At the same time, Derek was also frowning tightly.

Along the way, he had seen that the Barbarians had plundered enormous amounts of people and wealth, yet they had not slaughtered indiscriminately.

That meant the Barbarians had a clear-headed decision-making body. They were not simply planning to grab what they could and run.

He even suspected that such a coincidental lightning attack was no coincidence at all.

If it truly targeted the Locke Kingdom's northern expedition, then there should be more to it than these methods.

"I hope... the noble lords above can see through the Barbarians' scheme. Otherwise, there may be trouble."

At the Second Legion, Count Perella was still worrying over how to break the Barbarians' scheme. He wondered whether that boy Derek could hold fast and draw away part of the Barbarian forces.

"If we can tie down part of the Barbarian forces, then whether I take the chance to encircle and destroy them, or the Barbarian army comes to their rescue, Ironwall City's crisis will be resolved."

Count Perella's plan had its merits. He did not know the saying about besieging Wei to save Zhao, but the experience gained from years of military service had still led him to do exactly that.

That was also why the First Legion was willing to cooperate with him.

Prestige was accumulated bit by bit. It could not be felt in ordinary times, but at critical moments, it could earn people's trust.

Suddenly, a burst of commotion came from outside the tent. To the count, who was usually strict in his demands, it was something he greatly disliked.

He even rose to his feet, his thoughts interrupted.

But before he could ask what was happening, he saw Cesar stumble into the tent, disbelief still written across his face.

Could something have happened to that boy Derek?

Though that would be bad news, there was no need to be this flustered.

"Count!"

Cesar naturally knew that appearing so disheveled would displease the count, but he no longer had the mind to consider such things.

In truth, he had even thought the news was false. Yet the messengers had come from two different places, and only after repeated confirmation that it was true had he entered in a daze.

"One must remain calm when facing trouble. Have you forgotten what I told you?"

"Count," Cesar forced out a twisted smile, impossible to tell whether it was joy or blank shock. "A great victory, a great victory!

Knight Derek crushed the Barbarians yesterday. Not only did he kill over ten thousand of them, but he has now forced the Barbarian army into retreat."

"What?"

Count Perella thought his age had made him mishear, but Cesar repeated it once more.

This time, he was certain.

Though he could be sure it was not some misunderstanding, the news was simply too shocking.

The crisis at Ironwall City—even the crisis of the Northern Province—had ended just like that?

Then what had he been racking his brains over every day?

"Good lad. A truly good lad."

The count paced back and forth, unable to calm down.

"Count, we need to set out at once," Cesar reminded him.

Although the foremost merit belonged to Derek, Count Perella could not escape the credit due to a commander.

If he remained too far away, people would inevitably gossip afterward. The best course now was to advance swiftly with light cavalry and at least reach Ironwall City first.

But the count was thinking about something else.

"No hurry. No hurry at all.

Cesar, I recall that you and Derek have some friendship?"

"Yes. We get along rather well, since we both came from the Knight Order.

Do you want me to go offer condolences as an envoy?"

"Condolences, my ass! You usually seem clever enough. Why are you muddle-headed at a critical moment?

Set out immediately and go to the Ferrera Family. Tell them I have a granddaughter of suitable age. I think highly of that boy Derek and intend to marry her to him. Her dowry... a Knight Fief. What do you think?"

Cesar did not understand at first, but he immediately caught on.

"Brilliant! Experience truly counts."

This move was truly brilliant. Derek was clearly about to rise meteorically. At the very least, he would become a Hereditary Baron, and no one knew how high he might climb in the future.

Before he got married, they needed to act first and secure him.

At a time when everyone else was thinking of currying favor with Derek himself, the count had taken an unconventional route and settled the marriage first.

What relationship was more solid than one bound by kinship?

You may laugh at this old man for being a step too slow, but I laugh at you for not understanding the ways of the world.

"Go, go, go! What are you standing there for? Once this marriage is settled, you'll be half that boy's matchmaker. Wouldn't that be far better than rushing over to flatter him like everyone else?"

The Old Count kicked Cesar in the backside. At a critical moment like this, the boy did not know to be sharper.

Cesar did not feel the slightest dissatisfaction. This was an opportunity.

He scrambled out of the camp and galloped away.

Count Perella naturally did not remain idle either, directly ordering the army to set out.

Leaving the main force behind, he raced ahead with the Knight Order. In just one day, he reached Ironwall City.

When he saw the southern camp reduced to ruins and the heads piled high, he knew the news had not been exaggerated.

After asking around, he learned that Derek was monitoring the Barbarians' retreat, and he could not help sighing at the man's exceptional skill and boldness.

"A true hero indeed!"

Before the Governor, the Old Count lavished praise upon Derek, nearly praising him to the heavens.

"Governor Jeffery, let us jointly submit a memorial for the merits in this battle. Knight Derek in particular—I think granting him the title of Viscount, along with two baronies, would not be excessive."

The Governor naturally felt that Derek's merits were great, but the Old Count was putting in far too much effort.

Was he really going this far merely to promote a younger generation? That old fox was plotting something big.

He had looked into the matter beforehand and knew Derek had come from the count's Knight Order. But those who had simply completed knight training did not have a relationship of dependence.

What great noble family did not do the same?

It was normal for the Old Count to feel close to him, but this level of effort was not normal.

Still, the Old Count had not been wrong about one thing. Knight Derek deserved the foremost merit, and it was an enormous one that no one could erase.

Thus, he nodded in agreement. "There is no need to rush the commendation. We can wait until Knight Derek returns."

"There's no need to wait. The overall situation is already settled. Give him a surprise—that will show how we care for those who have rendered merit!" How could the Old Count not be anxious?

Putting in effort before the marriage was settled was called selflessness.

Putting in effort after the marriage was settled was called forming factions for private gain.

He drew the distinction very clearly.

The Governor had no choice but to agree to first write a brief letter commending the merits. The rest could be discussed later.