These Polish Madmen!

Once the cavalryman who had come with the message explained the situation on Smirnov's side, Morkov's face darkened in an instant.

"That useless bastard!"

He cursed viciously, then lifted his eyes and looked toward Mozyr City.

According to the cavalryman's report, the Polish Army that had attacked Smirnov numbered at least fifteen thousand, while the defenders of Mozyr had only totaled a little over fifty thousand.

In other words, after subtracting the casualties, there were now fewer than thirty thousand Polish troops inside Mozyr City.

And he still had nearly sixty thousand soldiers in hand. If he launched a fierce assault on Mozyr, he should be able to take it very quickly.

However, he hesitated again.

If that Polish Army attacked Kiev, Chaperov very likely would not be able to hold.

Kiev was the main stockpiling point for the logistical supplies of his army. Although even if he lost this place, he could still obtain supplies from Smolensk, allowing the Poles to occupy the richest city in the empire's west—even for a single day—would still be a towering humiliation to the empire!

The Tsar might very well dismiss him because of it, or even throw him into prison.

At that thought, Morkov angrily bent his riding crop with force and said to his staff officer, "Issue the order. Have the Zaporozhian Legion stay here. Everyone else rests for half a day. Tomorrow morning, we head for Kiev. Come with me to catch that rat!"

The next day.

Morkov personally led thirty thousand troops toward Kiev, and sent men to order Chaperov to coordinate from the south.

However, when he arrived at Kiev four days later, the Poles had long since vanished without a trace.

After a large number of Rangers scouted all around Kiev, they finally learned from local peasants