When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 721 - 679: Smelly Feet Little Burger

This classic riverside swamp of Black Snake Bay essentially formed because a tributary of the Mo'en River failed to create a river channel, dispersing water into various depressions and bogs.

The swamp stretches out in a long strip, extending for over a dozen miles, with sand dunes, waterholes, and streams crisscrossing each other. In shallow areas, the water only reaches the ankles, but in deeper spots, it can swallow an entire person.

So, the soldiers of the Noble Alliance Army advancing between the reeds and aquatic plants closely followed in the footsteps ahead. If anyone slipped, nobody would come to their rescue.

Tasjin was one of them. Though he was neither a knight nor a Snake-man, as auxiliary forces, these mercenaries had no choice but to join the battle.

Shoulder rubbing against shoulder, all kinds of axes, pikes, long spears, and short swords clashed, creating a crisp ding-dong sound along the way.

In the March warming of Black Snake Bay, all he could smell was the fermented stench of feet and the sweat of armpits.

Although there was no sun, the boat-shaped helmet on his head made his scalp itch from the heat.

Despite the hot weather, they still wore robes, even tying up their sleeves and pant legs with cloth strips, as they couldn't go shirtless like the local Black Snake Bay people.

The local Black Snake Bay people were drenched in mosquito-repelling oil from a young age and wouldn't be chased by mosquitoes and flies the size of strawberries.

However, it was different for these foreign soldiers. Forget taking off their clothes; even a casual sip of water would make bugs crawl out of their water jars at night.

If not for the tempting high salary of one gold pound a month, Tasjin would never have come to Black Snake Bay.

Even now, he somewhat regretted taking this job; this life was truly unbearable.

"Do-do-doo—" A sharp whistle snapped back Tasjin's gradually fading consciousness, and he stood for a good while before understanding the order to stop for a meal.

"Where do we eat?"

"Find a spot yourself, as long as you're not exposed."

Hearing the squad leader's words, Tasjin and the others looked at the streams and waterholes everywhere, cautiously probing for stable ground until they found a large rock.

A dozen or so people swarmed onto it, finding a place to eat.

Leaning his spear to one side, Tasjin removed his sun-scorched helmet and took out a cloth-wrapped package from his heavy backpack.

Spreading the cloth on his thigh, Tasjin first produced half a solid piece of wheat bread. It was more like a biscuit than bread.

Yet, even so, the people around cast envious glances, as their staple was dry-chewed sweet beans, a ground, steamed, and sun-dried sheet-like food.

As Tasjin himself put it, eating that was like swallowing razors for suicide.

As for cooking with fire, that was impossible because of the ubiquitous dampness in Black Snake Bay. Once a fire was lit, thick smoke billowed out, visible to the enemy miles away.

Even the noblemasters barely had enough firewood for cooking during the march, let alone sparing any for these common soldiers.

Tasjin pulled out a handful of spoiled chickpea mash and a piece of salty fish tail reeking of foot sweat, adding in the half bottle of rye beer he bought for 2 Dinars; thus, his meal began.

Breaking off a piece of the hard bread, he split it into two segments, adding chickpea mash, salted fish meat, roadside wild vegetable leaves, and some salt from under his nails, creating a delightful Old Tas Little Hamburger.

After downing two little hamburgers in succession, the man-eating hunger in Tasjin's stomach lessened considerably. Staring at the remaining bits of salted fish and bread, he resisted the urge to finish it all in one go.

As the old mercenary who introduced him to the field of work once said, always leave the last morsel for yourself on the battlefield.

Though unclear whether the old soldier meant to eat a bite before battle to replenish energy, after battle for an easy escape, or before death to not die hungry, Tasjin had always done it this way.

Having tidied up his food, Tasjin stood up on the large rock, sipped rye beer, and surveyed the surroundings.

This was not out of boredom but a necessity.

They weren't those Royal Constitution Knights who had such clear commands and coordination.

If not constantly attentive to the main army's movements, the army might leave while they stayed put.

This was a common occurrence; whenever encamping during a march, even by nightfall or before setting off the next morning, there were always stragglers returning to camp.

Looking out from the large rock, the narrow marshlands between the riverbank and the forest were packed densely with Falan Soldiers waving various flags.

Excluding the Snake-man Servants, there were over four thousand elite mercenaries and knights participating in the battle.

This already constituted a quarter of the entire army, nearly half of its fighting force.

As for pulling these main forces out for a decisive battle, from Tasjin's personal experience, it seemed neither a bad nor a good decision.

An advance could cause scattered forces but allow control of the battlefield, while staying behind only allowed passive defense, yet permitted the concentration of most forces for defensive counterattacks.

One could say staying behind tends towards concentration, while advancing tends towards maneuvering.

This unnamed marsh was a mandatory land route from Solaburg to Avis Temple, but it was so difficult to traverse that most caravans opted for water routes.

Yet, now the port fleet on the Noble Alliance's side was taken by the Duke of Bodosa, and the Salvation Army's side was blocked by sunken ships in the riverway.

Even if there were a few vessels by Avis Temple's harbor, they weren't enough to transport three hundred soldiers, rendering them useless, thus prompting Count Kazi to think of pre-emptively ambushing here.

"Woo-woo-woo..."

"What's going on?" Standing on the large rock, Tasjin shouted to the mercenaries ahead.

Word of mouth quickly spread the news among the mercenaries leaning against the large rock in this reed area: "The vanguard has encountered the enemy, only six or seven companies of them with infantry. Count Kazi orders us to swiftly press forward and consume these two thousand troops before the main enemy force arrives."

Oh, they came a bit too soon, even before reaching the designated location.

Almost simultaneously, the knights' curses and the yells at Snake-man Servants resounded through the swamp: "Fools, bring me my armor. If it gets wet, I'll chop off your heads."

Tasjin stood on tiptoes: "How far?"

Soon, the human signal towers stationed on higher ground returned with the information: "Dunno, we can't see with the naked eye anyway."

Not visible with the naked eye? Well, there's still a bit of time. The old mercenary stroked his chin, deciding to head to the front for a look.

If it looked beatable, he'd relay the information back. If not, he'd loaf around.

Telling someone to watch his backpack, Tasjin leaped forward onto solid ground, using a spear planted in the bog to propel himself: "Let's go, have a look."

A dozen familiar mercenaries immediately gathered around him, pushing aside the reeds and randomly grabbed a rope around a Snake-man's neck, then ran toward the soil hill at the swamp's edge.

Since they traveled light without armor or heavy weapons, it only took the dozen mercenaries a quarter of an hour to reach the swamp's edge.

The young mercenaries alongside him were still gasping heavily, but Tasjin's face was only slightly flushed.

He tossed away his helmet, grabbed the tree trunk with both hands, and nimbly climbed up a palm tree, looking northwards with a hand over his eyes for a makeshift sunshade.

Sure enough, about two miles away, hundreds of knights could be seen amidst the reeds and shrubs, densely packed. Whether there were follow-up troops was temporarily unclear.

"What do you think, Tasjin? Do you think we can fight?"

Standing at the base of the palm tree, the others all raised their heads, asking Tasjin atop the tree.

"The formation looks pretty neat, but they seem inexperienced. Standing too spread out, it seems chargeable…" Just as Tasjin, perched on a tree branch, finished speaking, he heard a strange, dull sound.

"Thump—"

A shrill sound whistled through the air, and oddly, a person-high water column suddenly rose from a distant waterhole.

"Holy crap, ma…" Just as the mercenary below shouted "mage," Tasjin abruptly turned his gaze to the river.

On the surface, a catamaran convulsed violently; could it be that ship stirring up trouble? Yet, they were nearly two miles away. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

"Tasjin, should we fight or not?"

Thinking, he saw a particular sound and turned to the riverbank.

On the river, a catamaran was shaking violently. Could it be that that ship was up to something, even though they were almost two miles away?

"Tasjin, are we going to fight or not?"

As he pondered, he saw an unusual muffled sound and was lost in thought.

With a dull, strange noise, salvos echoed through the sky above the marshland, Tasjin's decade-long battlefield experience could not make a decision at this hard moment.