An Unexpected Surprise

At dawn, the first rays of sunlight fell on the earth, while the battlefield where the fighting had raged all night still lay immersed in a sea of blood.

A thin morning mist blanketed the earth, as if to wash away the bloodstains on the grassland.

Broken halberds and spears, shattered swords and sabers, and mangled corpses strewn across the ground still bore witness to the cruelty of war.

"Commander, the casualty count is in."

"Last night, our army lost 326 men killed, 643 lightly wounded, and 36 severely wounded. Another 17 were lost to noncombat causes."

Jasper delivered the report in a somber voice.

Even in a battle against rookies, the Third Army had paid a painful price.

A battalion's worth of troops had been rendered combat ineffective in a short time.

"Do everything you can to save the wounded!"

Victor said gravely.

As a supplementary army, they had never been intended to fight the enemy on the battlefield, so treatment for the wounded had naturally never been considered.

The entire army had been assigned only five priests, and they were all of the lowest rank, capable of casting only a few blessing spells at most.

Worse still, those fellows had run off with Viscount Sutton.

The Third Army was now a bare-bones force with no medical care whatsoever.

What they called saving the wounded amounted to washing their wounds with boiled water and bandaging them with clean cloth.

Whether they survived depended entirely on how tough they were.

Those with blades lodged in their bodies were asked for their last words before receiving "treatment."

Fewer than five percent of the severely wounded survived, and only around eighty percent of the lightly wounded made it.

"Commander, how could anyone wage war without losing men?

"Last night, we wiped out nearly three thousand enemies. On a battlefield where our forces were collapsing across the entire front, that was unquestionably the most outstanding victory.

"We also captured eighteen hundred warhorses, twenty-three hundred nags, two thousand sheep..."

Seeing that Victor was in low spirits, Captain Felix spoke up to comfort him.

After years of fighting on battlefields, he had long grown accustomed to partings and death.

After some rest, most of the lightly wounded would recover and return to duty. The actual battle losses were only four or five hundred men.

In exchange for those losses, they had wiped out an enemy force six times their number and taken a pile of spoils. By any measure, it was a great victory.

"Mm!"

"We've wiped out the Goshawk Tribe's main force. Next, it's time to deal with the Cors Tribe.

"But some routed soldiers must have escaped back during last night's battle.

"Our movements have been exposed. If we proceed step by step, the Goshawk Tribe will escape.

"We'll divide our forces into three. Felix and Jasper, each of you will lead two infantry battalions and one archer company and flatten the Goshawk Tribe's and Cors Tribe's strongholds.

"Of the rest, one company will stay behind to care for the wounded. The others will follow me into the Dragonbone Mountains to reinforce Howard and surround and wipe out the Cors Tribe's main force.

"To save time, all the captured warhorses will be yours to use."

With no time to dwell on his sorrow, Victor immediately assigned their combat missions.

They had already fought the hardest battle. They couldn't let the cooked duck fly away now.

"Yes, sir!"

In the Dragonbone Mountains, after a night of bitter fighting, they had finally surrounded and killed the Berserk Porcupine family.

Looking at the magical beasts' corpses on the ground, Moriarty was seething.

He had ordered a retreat, yet those beasts had refused to let them go.

Since entering the mountains, they had seen the enemy's shadow, only to end up fighting these magical beasts in a muddle.

"Has the casualty count come in?"

Moriarty asked with a frown.

After a chaotic night of fighting in pitch darkness, he knew the tribe's losses would be heavy even without a count.

He asked now only in the hope that a miracle had occurred.

"Chief, we lost 423 men killed and 586 wounded last night. Quite a few fell to their deaths."

Grayson answered in a trembling voice.

The figures were terrifying!

They had lost over half their force before even engaging the enemy.

It couldn't be helped. They were never good at fighting in the mountains, and the battle had taken place at night, when conditions were least favorable to them.

From the moment the Berserk Porcupines attacked, they had been on the back foot.

Fortunately, the magical beasts weren't very intelligent and hadn't waged guerrilla warfare against them. Otherwise, it was anyone's guess whether they would still be standing.

Crack!

Moriarty swung his blade, and a great tree crashed down.

"Chief, calm down!"

The old priest at his side hurriedly tried to dissuade him.

Anger wouldn't solve the problem, and venting it would only interfere with treating the wounded.

"Pass down the order. Prepare to withdraw!"

After calming himself, Moriarty made the difficult decision.

The previous night's battle had already dealt the Cors Tribe a crippling blow. Continuing to hunt the enemy would be irresponsible toward the tribe's future.

In their current condition, even if they found the enemy, they couldn't immediately enter battle.

If the enemy took advantage of an opening and they lost the wounded as well, it would be too late for tears.

"Battalion commander, the enemy is retreating!"

Howard froze on the spot when he heard the news.

He had shown considerable restraint to lead the enemy in the wrong direction.

Although he had caused them plenty of trouble, it had all been trivial.

"What happened? Why are they running?"

Howard asked hurriedly.

The little tricks he had pulled could have affected the enemy's morale at most; their actual losses in manpower had been small.

After being harassed all along the way, the enemy commander should, by rights, have been nursing a bellyful of resentment and been all the more eager to settle the score with him.

They were retreating in a hurry without even taking revenge. No matter how he looked at it, something was off.

"Battalion commander, the enemy went too far in pursuit last night and blundered into the territory of some Berserk Porcupines.

"They had a fight, and I reckon the enemy's losses must have been substantial."

Reginald answered with a grin.

What was a pleasant surprise? This was a pleasant surprise.

They hadn't done anything, yet the enemy had already suffered losses.

"Were the enemy really so reckless? They didn't pull out immediately after finding the magical beasts' droppings?"

Howard asked, looking utterly puzzled.

After entering the Dragonbone Mountains, the Third Supplementary Army had been exceptionally cautious.

Whenever they found magical beast droppings, they immediately kept well away and never ventured deeper into the beasts' territory.

It was all to avoid unnecessary conflict.

He had never imagined there would be brave souls who dared turn a blind eye to them.

"Heh heh..."

"Battalion commander, they did want to retreat, but they had to notice in time first.

"Our men were leading the way ahead of them, and after entering the Berserk Porcupines' territory, they did a little cleaning up along the way.

"..."

Reginald answered with a sly grin.

It was common knowledge across the continent that magical beasts marked their territory with droppings.

Precisely because that common knowledge was so deeply ingrained, when someone cleared away the droppings beforehand, those who came after would make the wrong judgment.

But while humans could make mistakes, magical beasts wouldn't forget their own territory.

Charging headlong into Berserk Porcupine territory-one could only say the Cors Tribe was blessed!

"Well done!"

"Submit a list of everyone who took part in the operation. I'll personally ask the commander to reward him for his service later!"

"Pass down the order. Have the second company act immediately and set up obstacles along the enemy's retreat route to slow them down."