Chapter 460 - 328: What a Pity

[Achievement Unlocked: Life-taking Evil Ghost—Kill five or more people in under a minute. Sword Fighting Level +1, Agility Level +1]

Eric looked at the six fallen men and finally relaxed, propping his sword on the ground as he panted heavily.

He had to move without any pause or mistake to ensure the soldiers had no time to think. Otherwise, they likely would have hacked him to death.

A low, pained groan from behind made Eric look up. It was Balha, the man he had knocked unconscious earlier.

Balha’s face was now covered in blood. The culprit was Joseph, who had been as timid as a mouse just moments ago. Joseph had picked up a Long Spear from the ground and viciously thrust it at the unconscious Balha.

Joseph knew Balha was wearing Chain Armor, so he had targeted his head. He was likely aiming for the neck, an area unprotected by the armor, but he couldn’t hold the Long Spear steady; it was too heavy for him. By a strange twist of fate, it plunged into Balha’s mouth, went straight through his head, and embedded itself in the soil beneath.

Balha twitched twice in a pool of his own blood, and then all life left him. His eyes were wide, staring fixedly at Joseph as if in accusation.

Joseph jumped in fright and fell to the ground, where he met Eric’s gaze.

"S-S-Sir, H-H-Heretics are irredeemable. The Lord w-won’t accept his soul. The m-moment... he died, his soul was already gone. R-R-Right?"

Eric didn’t answer. He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. A black horse leaped from the bushes and quickly ran to his side.

It was a magnificent and powerful Arabian Warhorse, the very one Suleiman Shah had gifted him, ’Dost’. That morning, Eric had renamed him ’Torturer’.

"Get your wife and daughter on the horse. Your job is done. Go back to the village now," Eric said.

"Yes, yes, thank you, Sir." Joseph scrambled up from the ground almost instantly. He grabbed Torturer’s reins and, using the stirrup, mounted the horse. It was a difficult feat for him, but his desperation to leave spurred him on.

"Sir, if you leave the horse for us, what about you?"

The one who spoke was Joseph’s daughter. The girl with light brown skin was smarter than her father, asking Eric cautiously, even though she too was desperate to get away from this place.

"My mission isn’t over yet. I have to ensure that when my army arrives in two days, they can take this city smoothly and with minimal casualties."

Eric stripped a soldier’s tunic and Leather Armor, putting them on himself. He smeared blood on his cheeks, then tore a strip of cloth from the tunic’s hem to wrap around his face. He added more blood on his nose, faking an injury to his face and the bridge of his nose.

A well-placed wound like this would justify the bandage covering his face.

With that, Eric ran off in a different direction, intending to blend in with the retreating soldiers.

However, things didn’t go as Eric expected. The soldiers had abandoned their commander, Balha, without a second thought. He searched the village twice but couldn’t find any of Balha’s remaining men.

In the end, Eric had to summon his other horse, the Norman Warhorse given to him by Robert, which he had named ’Rabbit’. After riding for a while, he finally caught up with the retreating group.

...

In the forest, Balha’s second-in-command, Ahmed, had abandoned Balha without hesitation, leading the remaining troops in a rapid retreat toward Hama City. In reality, their retreat was not going well. Many of the soldiers were on foot and could only jog away under the cover of the bushes, making them far slower than cavalry.

"Sir Ahmed, is it not against protocol for us to retreat directly like this? Perhaps we should wait for Lord Balha," a young officer asked Ahmed in a low voice, a trace of unease in his eyes.

Ahmed chuckled softly. He turned to look at the officer, his face showing a cold confidence. "The order to retreat came from Balha himself. As his subordinates, it is our duty to carry out his orders decisively. His command was for me to lead the troops back to Hama City. It didn’t say we should wait for him outside the village, did it?"

Ahmed patted his mount’s neck, his expression composed as if this were just a routine task. "Messenger! Messenger!" Ahmed shouted. He then looked at the messenger who ran over. "Were those Lord Balha’s orders?"

"Yes, Sir. Those were the orders," the messenger replied with his head bowed, not a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Did he tell us to wait outside the village for him to regroup?" Ahmed continued, his gaze tinged with impatience.

"No." The messenger shook his head.

"But... leaving Lord Balha there like this is too dangerous..." the young officer, Jafar, spoke up again, his voice filled with concern.

Hearing this, a smirk touched the corners of Ahmed’s lips, and a flicker of contempt crossed his eyes. "Jafar, have faith in Balha. He has more experience than any of us, and his judgment is more far-sighted. Who do you think we’re retreating for now? For me? For you? For Balha? No. It’s for our great Governor, for the prosperity and peace of Hama City. We are doing this to preserve our strength for Hama City!"

Ahmed raised his head, his voice growing louder and more passionate. "Think about it! If we all bunched up at the village entrance and ran into a large enemy force, what would be the result? We’d just be throwing our lives away! What could we do besides adding to the enemy’s glory? Only by staying in the city can we defend Hama and be of the greatest use!"

Ahmed paused, his tone growing more resolute. "Remember, Jafar, this is not a rout. This is a strategic retreat!"

Just then, a messenger came running up in a hurry.

"What is it?" Ahmed asked coldly.

"There’s a wounded soldier. He says he has news from Lord Balha," the messenger answered breathlessly.

"Bring him here." Ahmed seemed impatient, his eyes glinting with a strange excitement.

A short while later, two soldiers walked over, supporting a staggering soldier whose face was covered in blood. It was Eric.

Ahmed stared at Eric and asked coldly, "What happened to Balha?"

Eric caught his breath, feigning grief as he spoke with difficulty. "Lord Balha... he fell in battle. He bought us time to retreat by facing the Heretic army’s vanguard. In the end, he was outnumbered and sacrificed himself heroically."

"Wonderful."

Ahmed blurted it out, his tone dripping with obvious relief. An expression of delight unconsciously crossed his face, as if he had finally been freed.

He quickly realized his mistake, however. He coughed twice, trying to hide his true feelings, and put on a sorrowful expression before correcting himself. "I... I mean, that’s such a shame. A tragedy. A tragedy. This is without a doubt a tragedy."

He knew in his heart that with Balha dead, he would have a chance to take his place.

The surrounding officers and soldiers didn’t seem to notice. Their expressions grew heavy, especially those who had been loyal to Balha. Upon hearing the news, they couldn’t help but lower their heads as if in silent mourning.

Ahmed turned, let out a fake sigh, and stared deep into the distant forest. "He was a good general, a great man, truly worthy of respect. However, nothing on the battlefield is ever predictable. Lord Balha’s bravery in his final moments is something every one of us should remember. Many in Hama City will attend his funeral."

His words were filled with hypocritical grief, his voice low, yet tinged with an excitement he couldn’t suppress.

A moment later, Ahmed looked back at the nearly-routed column behind him. The soldiers were hurrying through the forest, treading on wet mud, looking rather pathetic. He offered a small smile. "Don’t worry, everyone. Though Lord Balha is dead, Hama City still needs us. Our primary mission is to protect the city and preserve our strength."

He paused, then looked back at the messenger. "Tell all the soldiers to continue the retreat. Reach Hama City as quickly as possible and remain vigilant."

"Yes, sir!" The messenger immediately ran off to relay the orders.

"By the way, how large was the Heretic army you mentioned?" Ahmed leaned down, asking Eric in a cordial tone.

"About two thousand, with at least two or three hundred cavalry," Eric reported, giving a suitable number.

Ahmed nodded, then shouted to the soldiers behind him, "Lord Balha fought five thousand Heretics, including one thousand cavalry! In the end, he was outnumbered, and his soul has returned to Heaven!"

However, Jafar’s voice broke the silence. "Sir Ahmed, you must have misheard. Sir, it was two thousand Heretics, with two hundred cavalry at most."

"Oh, is that so? It seems I really did mishear." Ahmed paused, then announced in an even louder voice, "Lord Balha fought a fierce battle against an army of ten thousand Heretics, including two thousand cavalry! He fought valiantly but was ultimately outnumbered, and his soul has returned to Heaven!"