Translator: Cinder Translations
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A military operation involving over two thousand people ended in a crushing defeat, and such a thing could not be concealed, at least not in an army like Giles's.
After Samal led the remnants of the defeated troops back in disgrace, rumors began to spread quietly that very night.
There were many outrageous claims, including that tens of thousands of Northerners had already appeared behind Eagle's Beak Pass, and even that Five Goats City had been captured by the royal army.
"Did you know? There are many large ships in the Northwest Bay. I am the son of a fisherman, and I have seen their ships with my own eyes. They are huge, like castles when docked in the harbor. The royal court can requisition these ships to transport soldiers directly to the southern coast by sea, or even sail up the river to reach Five Goats City!"
Many well-informed soldiers used their knowledge to corroborate the rumors.
Giles realized that the current situation was extremely unfavorable for him. The morale of the army, which he had worked so hard to boost, was rapidly dissipating.
He had to take decisive action.
When dawn came again, the low sound of horns echoed through the valley in front of Eagle's Beak Pass, and the royal army launched a fierce attack.
This attack was vastly different from the previous probing assaults.
The royal army's artillery roared with earth-shaking force, their deafening blasts tearing through the morning mist. The cannons spat crimson flames, hurling one shell after another at Eagle's Beak Pass. The topmost battlements of the wall crumbled layer by layer under the relentless pounding of solid shot, turning into rubble that scattered down.
The artillerymen, bare-chested, quickly reset their gun carriages amidst the smoke, deftly cleaning the smoking barrels with sponge rods. Artillery officers waved their sabers, closely watching the situation on the walls of Eagle's Beak Pass. If any figures moved, they ordered the next round to be loaded with grapeshot, the searing metal storm capable of wiping out any rebel soldiers daring to show their heads.
All signs indicated that the royal army was getting serious.
And indeed, it was time to get serious. The Royal Infantry Second Regiment, which had detoured through the mountain paths to the rear of Eagle's Beak Pass, was completely at the mercy of fate. They might not even receive any supplies, so the main royal forces on the front had to intensify their breakthrough.
Under the intense bombardment, although the walls of Eagle's Beak Pass remained largely intact, large sections of the battlements had already been breached.
"Long live Aldor!" Colonel Levin of the Royal Infantry First Regiment drew his silver-inlaid sword and roared at the poised soldiers: "Attack!"
As soon as the order was given, the soldiers of the First Regiment divided into several columns, carrying ladders as they charged towards the walls. Each column was led by a standard-bearer holding the Aldor royal flag, the emblem of the royal family fluttering in the mountain wind.
"The enemy is charging, prepare for battle!"
"Father in heaven, protect us!"
The rebels on the walls felt as if they were in hell. The knight officer on duty, Yumeisen, felt utterly wretched. He had been just moments away from handing over his shift and returning to his barracks for a good sleep when the Northerners launched their attack.
Suddenly, something whistled past him. Yumeisen turned in shock to find that half of his attendant's face had been sheared off, blood soaking his white clothes.
Yumeisen's heart turned ice-cold. The royal army's new weapons were just that sinister, giving you no chance to defend or fight back. If you were hit, you were either dead or maimed.
"Where is the Grand Duke? Where is Lord Samal? Where is Lord Wendell?"
Yumeisen was filled with confusion. He had sent someone to notify them as soon as the royal army attacked, so why hadn't the high-ranking officials, including Duke Giles, come to the walls to command?
"There's no one! There's no one!"
The soldier he had sent to notify them came running back, his face filled with grief and despair.
Yumeisen sharply demanded: "What do you mean?"
The soldier madly shouted: "They've all run away! Giles, Samal, Wendell, and all the other big shots, their figures are nowhere to be found! We've been abandoned!"
His words were like a bomb, stunning all the soldiers on the walls.
"We've been abandoned!"
Upon learning this heartbreaking news, the soldiers ran around like headless flies. Some knelt on the ground praying, some hugged their comrades' corpses and wept, and others frantically tore at their blood-soaked clothes.
Yumeisen staggered forward a few steps, his vision beginning to blur, his ears filled only with the roar of cannons and the groans of the dying.
Giles had run away, taking his close associates with him!
After Samal led the remnants of the defeated troops back to Eagle's Beak Pass, Giles immediately realized that his army was in dire straits.
Staying at Eagle's Beak Pass, even if they could repel each royal army attack, their numbers and supplies would undoubtedly dwindle.
But if they gathered their forces to retake Frog Croak Town, they would have to abandon Eagle's Beak Pass, allowing the royal army to pass through and then sandwich them between the town and the main royal forces.
Without the protection of the walls, Giles had lost confidence in defeating the royal army in the open field.
He had no choice but to run, but taking the army with him would make escape impossible due to their size, so he had to abandon these loyal subordinates.
At that moment, Giles and a few close associates were making their way through the southern mountains of the Devil's Belly.
The royal army knew about the small paths, and so did they. While it was impossible to lead a large army through, a few people could manage easily.
As the beech branches scratched his hood, the Wolf Duke nearly cried out.
He was now a frightened bird. Not long ago, the group had encountered a checkpoint set up by the Royal Infantry Second Regiment nearby, resulting in a fierce battle, but they had managed to escape with their lives.
He tightly gripped the hilt of his sword wrapped in coarse cloth—his only remaining sword, its scabbard long discarded in a mountain stream—the taste of blood filling his mouth.
Baron Samal suddenly crouched down five steps ahead, his mud-stained mink cloak brushing over the rotting leaves.
"There are traces of wolves, we must be careful," Samal warned everyone.
Giles felt his heart was about to shatter his ribs, his sweat-soaked linen shirt clinging to his back like a cold shroud.
Wendell's hand silently rested on his shoulder. He had been injured in the recent battle, with only three fingers remaining on his left hand.
But his comfort was of no use. Hearing the distant howls of wolves, Giles suddenly realized he was trembling, shaking like a farmer in the cold of winter.
He had never been in such a state before in his life!
He stared at a puddle of water at his feet, its surface reflecting his face smeared with soot: the scabbed arrow wound on his right cheek, his shortened gray curls, and those bloodshot eyes—just the night before, those eyes had been adorned with a gold-rimmed monocle.
(End of the Chapter)
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