Chapter 162 - 150: Retreat
Chapter 162: Chapter 150: Retreat
"My lord, I actually think that the dismounted fighting doesn’t necessarily have to be done by the Knight Lords themselves.
The lads in the Knight Team are all chomping at the bit. They’re practically drooling over those bonuses too.
Perhaps..."
One morning, Robson was drinking his morning tea on the artillery platform as usual. In reality, it was just pine needles in boiled water.
This was something that baffled the entire army. Their noble lord always insisted that water had to be boiled before it could be drunk.
He not only gave this order to his own Guards but also required the entire army to follow this standard for drinking water. This task alone consumed the labor of at least a hundred support soldiers and civilian workers.
This was a habit Robson had brought with him from his previous life. Although in this world, thanks to Magic Power and combat auras, the average person’s immune system was much better than in his past life, some things were still impossible to completely guard against.
Robson had even asked Falan about it, and to his surprise, Falan also thought he had a point.
According to Falan, many evil Druids used dark arts to contaminate human bodies, turning them into unnatural monstrosities. The solution back then was to drink boiled water.
This fact mildly shocked Robson. ’To think that the supposedly sophisticated dark arts of the Druids could be thwarted by boiled water.’
’It seems that although some of the physical laws from my previous life don’t apply in this world, a lot of common sense is still invaluable.’ This suited Robson’s intentions perfectly.
After all, Lord Robson currently only remembered the history of the Industrial Revolution’s development. If it was about that topic, he could speak with great eloquence.
But as soon as the conversation turned to the operating principles of a steam engine, his head would feel like it was about to split.
"No rush. Let the soldiers get some proper rest. For now, let’s take our time, survey the terrain..." Robson fobbed Claude off, as was his daily routine.
Since the war began, as a veteran War Fanatic, Claude would come over every morning to feign paying his respects. Recently, he hadn’t even bothered with the pretense and would directly ask to get on the walls.
Robson made a point to inquire and discovered that the entire Cavalry Team seemed to have been influenced by Claude’s war-fanatic mentality. In private, they were all discussing going up on the walls to kill Beastmen.
Things were different now, after all. Before, they were just working for the noble lords for free. Although it was nominally to protect their homeland, for these low-born Peasants who had never received any higher education, that reasoning was far too lofty.
In their limited minds, if the Beastmen hadn’t reached their village, the threat of the Beastmen didn’t exist. As for the idea of repelling the enemy at the nation’s border...
Most of them didn’t even know what country they were in. They only remembered the name of their lord and which family they served.
Robson’s current method of "corrupting" the soldiers with Gold Coins was not at all noble in the eyes of other aristocrats, but to the soldiers, it was incredibly down-to-earth.
Killing Beastmen meant getting paid!
The Beastmen slaughtering their way to their hometowns was still too distant a concept for the Frankish Peasants.
But the fact that killing a Beastman would earn them money was very close to home—so close they could watch their friends go to the noble lord and receive a gleaming silver coin and a whole pork chop.
Silver coins and pork chops!
Seeing that today was going to be the same as always, Claude was about to take his leave when the cry of a griffin suddenly echoed from the distance.
At first, Robson thought it was the two griffins he had captured. Of the griffins Robson had shot down earlier, two had been saved by a Priest using a miraculous combination of Bloodletting Therapy and Divine Art.
Robson couldn’t help but marvel at the wonders of a Priest’s Divine Art. ’After all, they had fallen from tens of meters up. For a creature of that size to survive a fall from that height... it’s simply incredible.’
At least, from Robson’s level of understanding, it was very difficult to comprehend.
Unfortunately, the two griffins wouldn’t let anyone ride them now; they would bite and claw at anyone who came near. Left with no choice, Robson could only keep them locked in cages.
So, Robson quickly realized that the sound was definitely not from the griffins in the cages. It was coming from the direction of Sirich City. When the griffin flew closer, Robson got a clear look.
A sword and shield. It was a griffin sent by Count Valentino of the Fengman Clan.
Claude, curious, stayed behind as well.
The griffin had clearly gotten the wrong place. After circling a few times in the sky, it chose to land in the center of the camp. The griffin’s massive cry disturbed the slumbering soldier lords of the Fourth Regiment.
Robson could clearly see that as soon as the griffin landed, a circle of men had already surrounded it, on high alert.
Fortunately, due to a shortage of arrows, Robson hadn’t yet managed to distribute a full supply to the Fourth and Fifth Regiments. Otherwise, whether this griffin could have landed safely would have been an open question.
For Count Valentino to send a griffin over at a time like this, it must be for something urgent. Robson didn’t delay. He hurried down from the artillery platform and mounted a swift horse. At times like these, he always wished Huang Na could grow up faster.
’Jumping off the artillery platform and being caught by a phoenix... just thinking about how majestic that would be.’
As if sensing someone watching her, Huang Na stopped eating and raised her head to look at Robson. Ever since Huang Na had advanced, she had been eating nonstop. Good thing Robson’s operation was large and prosperous now; in the past, he might not have been able to afford to feed her.
Huang Na’s growth rate was also astonishing. Colin, at least, kept saying that it didn’t conform to magical principles and even suspected Huang Na was some kind of mutant. For this, he was nearly blasted by Huang Na—in a very physical sense.
In Huang Na’s racial memory, phoenixes were a race that valued pure bloodlines. In her eyes, "mutant" and "mongrel" were not pleasant words.
.....
Robson wasn’t the only one who noticed the Griffin Knight’s arrival. Viscount Di Man also quickly rode to the scene. Clearly, the Viscount had also noticed the sword and shield emblem on the Griffin Knight.
But as soon as he arrived, he was greeted by the sight of the Fourth Regiment’s soldiers surrounding a single man.
The soldiers of the Fourth Regiment couldn’t quite grasp the situation. In their eyes, once a war started, there were only two kinds of people: allies and enemies.
Though they were fighting Beastmen now, for most of their history, the Peasant Soldiers and conscripted free citizens had more often faced other humans.
Civil war was a common ailment of the aristocratic system. The Frank Kingdom was no exception; in fact, due to its martial culture, it was even more prevalent.
On the battlefield, there were only two types of people you could consider your own: those you trusted yourself, and those your lord trusted. This was precious wisdom passed down from their fathers.
This made things quite difficult for the Griffin Knight. He had been focused solely on delivering his message, intelligence clutched in his hand, but couldn’t spot the commander’s tent from the sky. He had landed in a random spot, only to run into this situation.
Fortunately, without an order from a noble lord, the soldiers hadn’t done anything to the Griffin Knight, merely surrounded him several times over.
When Viscount Di Man saw this scene, an indescribable envy welled up in his heart.
’If I had an army like this,’ he thought, ’I could cut the time for my family’s ascent by half!’
"Stop! All of you, stand down!" Viscount Di Man commanded.
Seeing an unfamiliar noble lord, the soldiers of the Fourth Regiment didn’t stop what they were doing. Some of them recognized Viscount Di Man as the man who was often seen laughing and conversing with their own great lord. They began discussing with their companions whether they should obey the Viscount’s order.
It was only when Kievlov, the commander of the Fourth Regiment, arrived on the scene that the soldiers finally lowered their weapons.
Robson also arrived shortly after.
"Uh... which one of you is Baron Robson? Or do you know where Baron Robson’s command tent is? I have an urgent matter to report!" After the surrounding soldiers backed off, the Griffin Knight looked at Kievlov, who had given the order, and asked.
"I am. What is it?" At that moment, Robson rode his horse into the area. Seeing the noble who had spoken on the platform before, the men of the Fourth Regiment parted to make a path for him.
Their viewpoint was simple. The noble they had sworn allegiance to was the one right before them. The officers who handed out their pay also had to salute Robson, and Robson could even appoint Non-commissioned Officers.
There was no mistake then: Robson was the highest-ranking noble in the entire army.
"Sir Robson, I have a letter from Count Valentino." The Griffin Knight identified him by the Ginkgo Flower Banner held by the personal guards behind Robson, combined with the way the soldiers had made way for him.
The Griffin Knight then presented a letter.
Robson dismounted, took the letter, and Viscount Di Man leaned in closer. Kievlov, meanwhile, went to disperse the bewildered soldiers.
"What did the Count say?" asked Viscount Di Man.
Robson’s brow furrowed as he read it. He then passed the letter to Viscount Di Man.
"Retreat? Undead!" Viscount Di Man was shocked and enraged after reading the letter. The word "undead" was simply too appalling.
"Those Beastmen! How dare they use the undead!" Viscount Di Man’s voice was tinged with disbelief.
"Isn’t Necromancy just..." Falan, who had followed Robson all this way, hadn’t yet fully grasped this world’s history.
"Ahem! Indeed, this is not good news at all!" Robson cut Falan off, signaling him not to say more. ’I wonder what kind of magic is carved into that necklace Falan is inhabiting,’ he thought. ’To withstand the jostling of a horse and still leave him with this much energy...’
’Magical artifacts are truly incredible,’ he mused. ’I doubt I could create something like that now.’
"Of course, we should now be more focused on the matter of retreating.
Prince Noah has been rescued and has already reached Sirich City. Earl Wei Man is already heading to Thermopylae.
We don’t need to keep defending this place. Next up, it’s a test of our legs," Robson quipped.
"I never thought things would develop so quickly." Unlike Robson’s optimism, Viscount Di Man looked troubled. A month ago, rumors on the entire Western Front said they would hold out until next summer. Some even spoke of a possible counterattack.
Who would have thought that in just over ten days, the situation on the entire Western Front would change so drastically? They were now fleeing in disarray, just as their ancestors had done over the centuries.
Robson patted Viscount Di Man’s shoulder.
"We’ll be back sooner or later. The Franks will not abandon their land, just as a child will not abandon his mother."
Viscount Di Man sighed, his breath instantly turning into a cloud of mist in the cold morning air, drifting toward the weak sun.
"You’re right, Sir. We will be back, sooner or later. Just as our ancestors have done over the centuries."
Robson watched the emotional Viscount, momentarily taken aback. He had only said it as a simple comfort, but it seemed Viscount Di Man was genuinely moved. What Robson didn’t know was that it wasn’t just Viscount Di Man; nearly every noble in the Frank Kingdom probably felt the same way.
Of course, if one were to bring up the founding history of the Frank Kingdom and discuss the previous masters of the Frankish Great Plains, then the story would be quite different.
From the Knight King to King Louis, from Emperor Rosa to Beast Emperor Kemel, both humans and Beastmen had fought over this land for hundreds of years. The rights and wrongs, the merits and faults, were difficult to judge. The questions of history could only be left to history itself.