Evidence of Victory

Battalion Commander Edward Stafford had barely finished shouting when a gunshot rang out, followed by another.

Amid the gunfire, the two Britain soldiers sank instantly. Britain position was now extremely precarious; they were in the deepest part of the water, making movement very difficult and turning them into easy targets. Their posture also made it very difficult to return fire, and even if they managed to fire, their improper movements would make accurate shooting difficult.

Besides this, they had another major problem: they couldn't reload their guns in this environment. In other words, after firing a shot, their guns were practically useless. Right now, they could only roughly determine that the shooter was hiding behind a patch of reeds. Their most logical course of action would have been to aim their guns there, but not fire rashly, maintaining a deterrent effect while quickly retreating or rushing towards the shooter.

In the chaos, the Britain didn't immediately make the wisest decision. They fired wildly into the reeds. A flurry of gunfire ensued, and no one knew whether they hit anything. After a while, gunfire erupted from the other reeds, and another British Army fell. The Britain quickly turned and raised their guns, but no shots came—their hasty volley had emptied their magazines. Unable to reload, they were now practically unarmed.

Another shot rang out from the other side, but the Britain were still unable to retaliate.

"Charge! Charge! Take them out with bayonets!" Stanford shouted.

The morale of the Britain was indeed far superior to that of the "Black Dogs." They still held their guns and marched towards the reeds.

Meanwhile, the guerrilla fighters had also noticed the Britain's predicament. They stopped hiding behind the reeds and openly stepped forward, firing at the Britain. They loaded their guns in front of the Britain, fired again in front of the Britain, and then...

Advancing through water and mud was difficult, but the guerrillas outnumbered the Britain. Although the guerrillas were shot at close range several times, and many Britain suddenly got stuck in the mud, causing heavy losses, the stubborn Britain Lobsterbacks still charged forward.

The Britain had moved to the shallow water and were almost ashore. The shameless Ireland, of course, fired their last shot, turned, and ran. The Britain gave chase, and after a while, they came to another stretch of water. In the distance, they could see a small boat—a few Ireland guerrillas—rowing further and further away.

"Quick, load the bullets! Fire!" Battalion Commander Edward Stafford was furious.

However, loading bullets takes time, and by the time they had finished loading them, the boat had already circled around to another patch of reeds and disappeared from sight.

"Damn traitors..." After unleashing every conceivable curse, Battalion Commander Edward Stafford now faced a question: what to do next?

Continue forward? This stretch of water ahead is larger and deeper than the previous one. Detour? Who knows where those rebels are hiding in this swamp? Go back? Wouldn't that mean his men had been shot by the Ireland for nothing?

Besides, how do we get back? Go back the way we came? We didn't notice when we rushed over, but now, looking back, we see five or six comrades still standing on the water, their heads barely visible, shouting, "For the sake of the United Kingdom, give us a hand!" Going back the way we came—are we going to leave a few more behind?

But just staying here like this isn't a good solution.

Just as Battalion Commander Edward Stafford was at a loss, a voice called out from behind, "Sir... Commander Stafford..."

Battalion Commander Edward Stafford raised his binoculars and looked in the direction they were coming from, and saw a group of black dogs waving at them.

Each of the black dogs carried a bundle of reeds. They threw the bundles of reeds into the water, walked a few steps on them, then threw in a second bundle, walked on it again, and slowly made their way here. The leader, O'Kelly, was still shouting, "Sir, don't worry, we're coming to rescue you..." This made Battalion Commander Stratford so angry he almost fainted.

The black dogs spent almost half an hour finally paving the road. Captain O'Kelly, bowing low, jogged up to Battalion Commander Edward Stafford, said, "Sir, what brings you here? I came to..."

Before O'Kelly could finish speaking, Stafford slapped him across the face, making him stagger.

"You bastards, tell me, where did you go just now? Were you colluding with the rebels to frame us?"

As he cursed, Battalion Commander Stanford drew his sword, pointing the tip at O'Kelly, so angry he could barely speak, "You... you... have a... corrupted... corrupted! I... I..."

O'Kelly's legs went weak, and he knelt on the ground. "Sir, my loyalty to the United Kingdom is witnessed by God! I swear by the salvation of my soul that if I have colluded with the rebels to frame you, may my whole family go to hell..."

"You bastard! Tell me, where did you go? What were you doing? If you can't answer me, I'll chop you up!"

"Sir, we just encountered some rebels over here. They fired at us, and we returned fire, then they ran away. We chased them, and we chased them all the way to..." Captain O'Kelly pointed to the spot where the British Army had gone into the water. "Sir, you don't know how cunning those rebels are! They hid a boat over there! They got on the boat and immediately ran this way. The water's so deep here, we didn't dare go down. I remembered we passed a patch of reeds earlier, so I went over there to cut some reeds, bundled them up, and laid them on the water. Maybe that would help us get across. Sir... which way did the rebels run?"

"You damn fool, why are you so slow!" Stafford sheathed his sword and slapped O'Kelly again.

"Yes, yes, yes, sir, you're right. My men are all too slow, too slow..."

O'Kelly bent over, a smile on his face, and said.

Then he looked at the wider body of water on the other side and said, "Sir, without a boat, we really can't cross this water. Why don't you retreat and come back with boats next time?"

"Slap!" Enraged, Stafford slapped Ollie across the face again, sending him sprawling onto the muddy ground.

"Damn it! I... I will not retreat until all the rebels are killed!" Stafford roared.

Upon hearing this, Olkai, who was still sitting on the ground, immediately jumped up, clenched his fists, and said firmly with righteous indignation, unwavering resolve, and unyielding conviction, "The commander is right. We will not withdraw until all the rebels are killed."

After saying that, he immediately put on a smiling face and said, "However, it will get dark soon, and it's very cold in the swamp. It wouldn't be good if the officers caught a cold. Why don't we go back first and come back tomorrow to kill them all..."

"Yes!" Battalion Commander Stafford nodded, then whispered, "Go back!"

After saying this, Stafford led a group of the British Army back along the road, his ears still ringing with Oleksandr's shouts from behind, "Let's go back with the commander today, we'll come back later to wipe out these rebels..."

Meanwhile, the Britain soldiers who had been shouting for help with their heads still sticking out of the water were now all submerged.

Stafford walked back, filled with regret and anger. He had led his army into the swamp today, hoping to achieve a great feat, but instead, he had lost more than twenty men and thirty or forty dogs, without even killing a single rebel. How was he going to explain this? Even if his family had some influence, they were still just a minor noble family... Stafford could already imagine being forced into retirement and becoming a disgrace to his family.

"Sir, sir..." Olkai approached with a fawning smile.

"What are you doing?" Stafford, clearly annoyed.

"Commander, you took the initiative today and killed over a hundred rebels in one fell swoop. You are truly brave and invincible!" Olkai said with a fawning expression.

"What did you say?" Stafford turned around, glaring at the black dog.

"Sir, we all saw it," Olkai said without changing his expression. Then he lowered his voice and said, "Sir, only by winning can we get more bonuses, which benefits everyone... Didn't we all come out here for the benefits?"

Stafford stared into Ollie's eyes for a long time before finally saying, "Very good, you're quite good."

Stafford wasn't afraid that Olkai might use something to blackmail him or anything else in the future. An Ireland —no, just an Ireland black dog—wouldn't be believed no matter how much it barked at a Britain nobleman. Besides, for a dog to dare bark at its master, regardless of what it barked about, the barking itself was a capital offense. Stafford believed that a smart dog like Olkai certainly understood this.

As for the Britain soldiers under his command, they were just civilians. As long as there were the reward pounds, Stanford could add a little more himself, and that should be enough to shut them up.

"But where is the spoils?" Stafford asked.

"Survival? I have it here," Olkai said. "However, I also have something I need your help with, sir..."