Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 788 - 68 Eve

Chapter 788: Chapter 68 Eve Chapter 788: Chapter 68 Eve Where is Winters Montagne? This question was also troubling Samujin.

As dawn was about to break, an anxious Samujin, who had waited the entire night, finally saw a torch waving on the opposite shore. He immediately dispatched a small boat to ferry people across the river.

Night battles are chaotic; both sides fight recklessly with courage and skill, without any formation.

Under such circumstances, once the infantry are scattered by the cavalry, all that awaits them is slaughter.

Hence, Winters issued an order: only upon seeing the signal may the troops guarding the coast be permitted to cross the river.

Winters did not expect the conscripted civilians to fight tough battles; doing well in treating the wounded, cleaning the battlefield, and gathering stragglers and the dispersed was difficult enough.

“We won.” Carrying boundless joy, Samujin took a boat to the western shore, only to be dizzied by the bad news delivered by Bart Xialing shortly after.

...

“The Centurion is not here.” Bart Xialing dismissed the others and whispered to Samujin.

“What did you say?” Samujin was startled.

“Keep your voice down.” Bart Xialing’s eyes were solemn, his cheeks tense: “Not many people know about this yet.”

“What on earth happened?!”

“I’ve run through several battlefields on the western shore—can’t find the Centurion.” Bart Xialing maintained his last bit of calm: “But Xial and Heinrich are also missing, probably nothing happened.”

“Where is Tamas?” Samujin pressed.

“With me.”

“He doesn’t know where the Centurion is?” Samujin raged: “What is he good for?”

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“He’s wounded, quite badly.” Bart Xialing said softly.

Samujin clenched his fists tightly, looked around, and suddenly struck his thigh: “Ah!”

The situation on the western shore was vast disarray.

Last night, Winters fought through seven battles, successively captured sixteen camps—the ones he faced were shattered, those he struck were routed.

The leaders of the Terdon Tribe were also unclear about the exact number of enemies; they only saw defeated groups fleeing in waves. Thus, the thought to preserve their own strength prevailed, and they hastily chose to depart first.

In the end, wherever Winters’ banner went, the Terdon people crumbled upon sighting it.

Winters’ forces too had a large number of riders who had fallen behind, scattered. Compared to those killed in battle, there were more injured from falling off their horses.

After the sounds of slaughter disbanded, the situation became even more unordered.

Some defeated Terdon people wandered the battlefield like crows, scavenging valuables and stripping clothes from the dead.

There were also fleeing Terdon leaders who felt there was an opportunity, and so they quietly circled back with their followers.

The injured of Iron Peak County and the bodies of its riders were scattered in various places along the shore. Those who could make it to the riverbank to wait for the rescue fleet were considered lucky.

There were riders who broke their legs when they fell from their horses and could not move. Had it not been for the search and rescue teams looking for them along the way, they could only await death in despair—and there was more than one wounded in such a state.

“An injured man said… the Centurion went after the Barbarian Chief’s tent.” Bart Xialing gritted his teeth: “I think it makes sense. Let’s round up those who are still able to fight and send them to reinforce the Centurion. What do you say?”

“Lieutenant!” A scout cavalryman came galloping in, barely stopping before Bart Xialing’s nose. The scout quickly dismounted and reported breathlessly: “Six or seven dozen barbarians are riding along the riverbank towards us!”

Upon hearing this, Bart Xialing’s eyes widened like an eagle’s.

Samujin looked at the chaotic scene of this temporary ferry port: the wounded being continuously brought back, fathers and sons crying over bodies, and the swords, spears, and armors that were piled up hurriedly without time to be transported across the shore…

“Hold off the Terdon people’s matter!” Bart Xialing looked at Samujin: “How many men who can ride do you have at your disposal?”

“No need to go reinforce the Centurion.” Samujin made up his mind: “The Centurion always said that everyone has their own responsibilities, and victory relies on everyone doing their duty. Montaigne, the Protector of the People, has his responsibilities; Xialing the Lieutenant has his, and I have mine.”

“Quit using the Centurion’s words to press me!” Bart Xialing burst into a sudden fury: “If a real accident… have you thought about what would happen to Iron Peak County if the Centurion truly met with misfortune?”

“I’ll hand over all the brave men under my command to you.” Samujin looked directly into Bart Xialing’s eyes: “Still, according to the original plan, it’s up to you to ambush the barbarians trying a counterassault, and leave the battlefield cleanup to me.”

Bart Xialing initially wanted to say something more but suddenly pursed his lips, his eyes fixed.

Samujin followed his gaze, turning to look back, only to see two columns of smoke rising in the southwest direction, one white and one gray—it was from Lower Tiefeng County.

Lower Tiefeng County had raised white smoke before, and gray smoke too, but two plumes of smoke, one white and one gray, were unprecedented.

Bart Xialing subdued his anger, gradually becoming calm: “They’re coming.”

“Mhm,” Samujin acknowledged, staring at the two columns of smoke: “They’re coming.”

…

Lower Tiefeng County, by the Big Horn River.

“Don’t dump it all in at once!” The young stable boy Anglu desperately pushed the bellows, shouting loudly: “It will put out the fire! Burn it bit by bit!”

Burning oak would produce white smoke; mixing it with decomposed leaves would turn it into gray smoke.

The panicked men were running around the two massive earthen stoves, wishing they could pour all their wood and decayed leaves into the furnace all at once.

The insufficiently burned wood and humus turned into thick smoke. Channeled through two long chimneys, it flew towards the sky.

This point, less than a mile from the riverbank, had been hidden until today when it was used for the first time. Further to the north, there were many more hidden spots with two beacon stoves each.

Two columns of smoke would arise only under one condition—the “crossing of the river” by the Terdon people; not a small-scale shallow crossing by a few hundred but the crossing of the Khan Court’s main forces into the thousands.