Perfect timing (II)

"Holy shit, my timing couldn't be better!"

Standing on a large rock, Chris watched the two forces facing off in the distance and marveled at his luck.

In fact, the force he led had made it through the uninhabited mountains the day before yesterday. They had stopped in a ravine three kilometers from Bich Town, set up camp, and begun resting.

Why hadn't they headed straight into Bich Town?

Chris wasn't an idiot. How could he march his people blithely into Bich Town when he knew nothing about the situation there?

First, if the residents of Bich Town supported Bagnia's former royal family, all well and good. His status as the prince of Bagnia might come in handy.

But if they supported the Revolutionary Party, wouldn't Chris be delivering himself right to their door?

Second, after half a month of trekking through the mountains, everyone was exhausted. Even with frequent stops, altitude sickness, cold, and fatigue had laid quite a few people low.

Of the nearly two hundred people in the force, over twenty were now bedridden, brought down by illness or exhaustion.

Fortunately, Chris had made sure they were well provided for in terms of food, clothing, and medical care. Everyone had enough to eat, warm clothes to wear, and even a hot bath every three days.

Even so, over twenty had been laid low, leaving fewer than a hundred and fifty members of the force fit to move around.

Rest was absolutely necessary.

While they rested, Chris also opened up fifty closed-beta slots. Taking advantage of their wilderness surroundings, he ran over to another hill, summoned the new players using frozen meat that cost five yuan per half-kilo, then brought them back to camp.

The explanation Chris gave Isaac was... "These are Mountain Savages. They heard from the Oka Tribe that they could get their fill here, so they came specifically to join me."

Really?

Isaac watched the fifty fellows running all over the valley, curious about everything. They looked here and poked there, couldn't speak Bohemian, and wore animal skins. At first glance, they certainly looked like savages.

But were they really Barbarians?

Isaac had his doubts, but he didn't voice them. After being taught a few lessons, he had learned that sometimes it was better to play dumb.

Chris wanted to summon players because his force's numbers had dropped sharply. Coupled with the exhaustion from crossing the mountains, how much fighting strength they still had was anyone's guess.

If a fight broke out now, they might not be entirely reliable.

So, after some thought, Chris decided to set his reservations aside and summon new players into the game. That way, if fighting broke out, he could send them in to hold the line.

As for why he had summoned only fifty rather than more players...

Chris wasn't a fool. He hadn't forgotten how he had been caught off guard and screwed over in Inyama, forcing him to flee in disgrace. Why wouldn't he take precautions against the players now?

Chris still had no established power base. He hadn't even taken Bichi Town yet, and he had fewer than two hundred living subordinates. Of those, over a hundred were mercenaries serving under ten players.

Under those circumstances, how could Chris dare summon too many players?

Players were a double-edged sword: sharp and useful, but liable to cut him if he wasn't careful.

If he hadn't been about to face a battle, Chris really wouldn't have wanted to open up more closed-beta slots. Once more players came in, dealing with what followed would be a real headache.

As it turned out, Chris had summoned the players just in time. His force had only managed a single day of rest in the ravine when, on the third day, the players assigned to reconnaissance came running back with bad news.

A gray-robed army of unknown origin, flying the banner of Bagnia's royal family, was marching toward Bichi Town.

Chris immediately realized how bad the situation was. Bandits picked a place clean, but soldiers stripped it bare. That saying held true anywhere.

Chris didn't believe this so-called Bagnian Restoration Army could live up to the standards of the People's Liberation Army.

If he truly sat back and did nothing, Bichi Town would probably be reduced to ruins within a day, with not a single townspeople left alive.

How could he let that happen?

Chris hadn't endured all those hardships coming back from Inyama just to sit by and watch.

To be safe, Chris hurriedly mobilized his force, had them take their weapons and equipment, and marched them rapidly toward Bichi Town outside the mountains.

After half an hour of hard marching, Chris and his people made it in time. Just as the Restoration Army was advancing on the townspeople, they appeared at the edge of the battlefield, and both sides promptly spotted them.

From his position on a small hill no more than twenty meters high, Chris could clearly see the chaos among the townspeople. The Restoration Army had also promptly halted its advance.

Satisfied with this turn of events, Chris turned and shouted to the people behind the hill.

"Brothers, form ranks, raise our flags, then advance ten paces!"

"Tweet, tweet, tweet!"

Isaac, who was serving as his adjutant, blew hard on the whistle at his lips.

At the shrill whistle blasts, the players acting as squad leaders raised their little flags and quickly began shouting, ordering their subordinates to form up in their prearranged groups.

What could he say? The idea was lovely, but reality was cruel.

The forty caravan hands did fairly well. Several of them were Bohemian veterans, and living and working together had given them a measure of coordination. With the veterans leading and shouting instructions, they managed to form reasonably orderly ranks in just over a minute.

The mercenaries, however, were a disaster. They were the largest group, and although they too had veterans among them, they normally served under different players. They had also been marching constantly, with no time at all for training.

As a result, when Chris ordered them to form ranks, they milled around in confusion like headless chickens. Three minutes passed, and they still hadn't carried out his order. Their formation was broken into scattered clumps, like cookies in a tin that had been shaken violently.

Chris looked back and could only sigh.

Of everyone present, the fifty newly arrived players were actually the quickest to form up, and their ranks were the neatest.

When the whistle sounded, they stood there in black clothes with matchlock muskets in hand, still looking a little bewildered. But once the player officers beside them shouted for them to fall in, they understood.

In just a few blinks, the fifty players stood in neat ranks, heads high and chests out. One look made it clear that they must have completed all their military training in middle school, high school, and university back in the real world.

"Ah, when it really counts, the players are still the reliable ones..."

Chris sighed. Although the players were always causing him major trouble, when he needed to put on a show of strength, they really were the ones for the job.

In that case, he would put the players in the front rank.

PS: I was too tired last night, and I also had a bit of writer's block.