Black Iron’s Glory

Chapter 259 Fortress-like cantonment sites

The territorial nobles of the two principalities were in great pain and angst, and the attack in the morning had already cost more than 900 people, and in the afternoon had been lured by two enemy artillery guns, and some 300 noble militiamen had disappeared. This is not those lowly conscripts, but elite family armaments. A private soldier sent both his own squads to chase the land of those two artillery guns. The nobleman watched his family's armaments wiped out by the enemy and was in a bloody coma...

What most resented the nobles of the Territory was that the enemy had pushed artillery into the camp, causing fewer than ten human injuries and causing chaos to the camp until the end of the evening. Had it not been for the heads of a few half-assed conscript colonists who had been scared to warn the rest of the unexpected, the riot might have continued.

Territorial aristocrats who hate and curse swear that if they can capture these enemies, they will be tortured by the most brutal means possible in order to exhale the anger and resentment in their hearts. They had originally planned a night raid, but now it appeared that those conscripted colonists could no longer count on it, and there had been intense discussion as to whether to proceed with the plan or not.

Ultimately, the enemies took the upper hand, and the nobles of the Territory laid down their hearts and minds, deciding to send all noble militias at night to retaliate against the enemy's shelling of the camp in the afternoon. They believed that the enemy had taken such advantage of the afternoon and had succeeded in disrupting the camp on this side, so they must not have expected the nobles of the Territory to insist on carrying out night raids at night. Plus the aristocratic militias are well-trained and elite. The speed of detours and positive raids is not comparable to those of the conscripted colonists. I am confident that this night attack will succeed and soon destroy those abominable enemies...

After waiting anxiously for the middle of the night, good news finally came from the front line, and the aristocratic militia that attacked the night succeeded in occupying the enemy's defensive positions. But the problem is that it was a position of no one, and the enemy did not know when it had withdrawn, but rather that the noble militia accidentally wounded more than a hundred people in a trap set by the enemy during the night raid.

Digging pit traps is no longer a problem, only one or two are injured. It was mainly the enemy who buried a lot of sharp wooden stumps and blade blades and spear heads in the trenches, mostly the weapons of the conscripts. After cleaning the battlefield, the enemy gathered these broken iron pieces and buried them at the bottom of the trench as they retreated, pointing the blade spear upwards and pressing several scarecrows next to them, looking as if they were sleeping soldiers. The first aristocratic militias who rushed into the position did not hesitate to jump into the trenches and prepare for a physical battle with the enemy, all of which were recruited. The militia following him heard the screams of his comrades, thinking they were in no hurry to jump into the trenches for reinforcements, and then hurt part of them too...

All the aristocrats of the territory were angry to spit blood, and their long-standing power reserves were not only emptied, but also sprained their waists. The enemy was so insidious and cunning that an empty defensive position had injured more than a hundred people on his side. This time, most of the injuries were to the feet and calves. They were either stabbed through the foot plate or scratched on the calves. It was impossible to walk, and it was necessary to send someone to lift the wounded back.

“Where are the enemies?” A territorial nobleman asks.

The privates who came back to report the letter hesitated to answer: “It must be Squirrel Village. After we occupied the defensive position, we wanted to go to Squirrel Village to see it. We sent a small group of people over and they were shot back by a cold gun...”

“Why don't you just rush over?” A territory whose nostrils have even risen. The noblemen roar out loud: “Now that the enemy is found in Squirrel Village, how many enemies are there? There are so many of us, all rushed over and crushed them! ”

Poor militia don't know how to answer, can't say that everyone is frightened by the enemy, but the enemy also set a trap in Squirrel Village, rushed over and got hit by the enemy's plot, then it's bad luck that they are the militia... anyway, the aristocrats in the territory let the militia attack the enemy's defensive position on the hillside, but didn't say to attack Squirrel Village...

At this time, Baron Fringsland, the lord of the former Squirrel Village, stood up to help lift the siege of this smuggling militia, telling the noblemen of the territory here that although Squirrel Village was a poor mountain village, there was still a stone wall and log fence in the village to defend the beast. If the aristocratic militias rush down to attack Squirrel Village, they may instead have been targeted by the enemy, causing unnecessary casualties. How about stationing a defensive position on the hillside at night, waiting for dawn tomorrow morning to come, the situation in Squirrel Village at a glance, we will know what the enemy conspiracy is.

So the nobles of the Territory followed Baron Fringsland's suggestion and ordered the militias to hold defensive positions on the hillside until tomorrow morning.

The next day, when the sun rose high, the aristocrats of a sleepy territory woke up and cleaned up, and used breakfast under the servants' waitress, which gathered in a large account to lament the hardship and hardship of the life of the military brigade. When the crowd arrived, it rode its way to the hillside defensive position under the crowd of close servants and guards.

The noble militiamen who blew the cold wind overnight at the hillside defensive position, Cesar trembled in line for the arrival of the lords, because no one ordered them, and the camp did not prepare breakfast for these militiamen, all of whom starved at the position overnight and increased by half an morning. However, the nobles of the Territory were reasonable and respectful of the sentiments of the militiamen, who were immediately instructed to go to the camp to prepare food and fresh water for the militiamen.

Baron Fringsland was right, standing on the hillside defensive position, looking down, Squirrel Village was indeed at a glance. Although it is only a small mountain village with fewer than 100 households, the size of the camp is not much different from that set up by the nobles of the Territory. However, the houses in the village are ruined and are nestled in some rotten wood branches with thick thatches on the roof. The only thing that can be seen is that most of them have a nice yard or flat ground in front of the den, which is easy to understand, because these villagers need a place to hang their picked mountain goods.

Squirrel Village does have a barrier of rocks and logs, mainly in case of night beasts. Carnivores who lack food in winter can easily concentrate their eyes on small mountain villages, so Squirrel Village not only has a fence, but a trench has been dug in front.

It is only likely that for a long time there have been no wild animals in the village, and the villagers have either stopped paying attention or ignored the trenches and the fence. The walls built with chaotic stones have been out of repair for many years, and several places have collapsed, with moss and mountain climbing vines all over the gap. The same was true of the log fence, where some logs were decayed by insect ants, revealing a number of decaying breaks. Even above that trench, there were dense weeds and bushes...

The hillsides next to the village are scattered mountain fields, which together amount to almost 200 acres. But now these mountain fields are empty, winter wheat has been harvested, straw bars are piled all over the village, and there are plenty of dead branches piled with firewood.

Baron Fringsland was angry that he could have harvested this batch of winter wheat if it had not been for the invasion of the Kingdom of Ovilas, which raided three counties in the south. Although this batch of winter wheat in Squirrel Village is not worth much, it is better than the inferior inhabitants of Squirrel Village. Besides, with this change, even if the war wins and they recover their territory, it will be difficult for the villagers to administer it later, and these lowly villagers will likely hide their harvest in private rather than hand it over to the righteous lord of this territory.

Squirrel Village is quiet and nowhere to be found. It seems that the squadron stationed here in the kingdom of Auvellas has transferred the villagers of Squirrel Village to other places. Squirrel Village has become an abandoned mountain village with no one left.

“Look over there, the enemy's there!” A territorial nobleman pointed to the northwest corner of the village and said.

The Baron of Fringsland took out a single telescope, which would be equipped for the private use of the aristocracy of every territory and would be used for hunting and fighting. Squirrel Village is his territory. He is very familiar with it. In the northwest corner of the village, isn't that the camp where he came to hunt in previous years? Every year, all kinds of mountain goods harvested from Squirrel Villagers are stored in the stone warehouse of the camp. When the quantity is higher, they are sold to the big trading houses. Every time he can earn a lot of money, unfortunately, this year's income is gone...

The camp you see in the single-barrel telescope is exactly what Baron Fringsland remembers. Originally there was only a two-storey wooden building and a stone warehouse, with a log fence 50 metres ahead. Now next to the stone barn, under the stone wall of that pebble mountain, a long row of wooden houses was built from logs, as was a large row of wooden sheds behind that log fence.

Between the logfence of the camp and Squirrel Village, which was supposed to be more than 100 metres away, it is estimated to be around 1450 metres. This is where Baron Flynnsland, the lord, specially set aside his servant to walk his horse. He also instructed his servants and guards to demolish the fence on this side of Squirrel Village and the broken houses of several villagers in order to level the land and give his love horse a place to walk.

As a lord, Baron Flynnsland naturally has this power, and when he comes here to hunt, he wakes up early in the morning and sees a large area of green grass, above which are his horses. It's always more pleasant to stroll than to see the villagers' houses...

Now the green meadow has also been ravaged by the enemy squadron stationed here, who moved nearly sixty metres forward, rebuilt a log fence and dug a trench two metres wide in front of it. The soil they dug out of the trenches was not wasted, and some vines were doped and pressed into large cubes, and these cubes of soil were piled up in front of the log fence, forming a mud wall.

Although this is only about three metres in height for the muddy fence and the log fence, more than seventy metres long, there is a suspension bridge in front of the trench. A low rain shelter has also been erected on the log fence, as well as a log turret on both sides. A small fortress connected to Pebble Mountain and cut off on the steep slope of the mountain road has, in fact, become an insurmountable fortress.

All enemies were apparently retreating into this small fortress, where they could see barrels of firearms stretching between logs behind the mud wall in a single telescope. Few people move in the open space. Looking forward, this little fortress has an infinite number of killing machines in silence.

“Is there water in there?” A lord nobleman mumbled and asked.

Baron Flynnsland replied with a smile: "Yes, there is a fresh spring on that pebble mountain next to him, which lasts all year...”

If it weren't for the fountain, Baron Fringsland, Lord, wouldn't have chosen that spot to build his own hunting camp.

“So, can we go around the back and climb up that rocky hill?” Another territorial nobility asked.

“Unable to climb, behind is a rocky wall of nearly fifty or sixty meters, but you can climb the mountain in front, it's just rugged and steep, but you can reach the top of the mountain.” Baron Fringsland's words are tantamount to not saying that going up the hill in front, inside the camp, is tantamount to taking over this little fortress, then why up the hill?

The territorial nobles of both principalities are counting in their hearts, trying to seize such a small fortress, and in the absence of a way to cut off water and gain land, the only two options are a prolonged siege that can force the guards to surrender when they are surrounded by food shortages. Secondly, ants attack, using their superior strength to carry out positive attacks without stopping, slowly draining the strength and energy of the guards, and waiting for the guards inside to persist before they can seize this small fortress.

However, both approaches have advantages and disadvantages, and the first prolonged siege, while reducing casualties on both sides, requires the provision of logistical supplies for the siege forces, an unaffordable figure for the territorial nobles of the two Principality. They assembled nearly 5,000 troops ready to loot three counties in the south, and the collection of logistical supplies for the 5,000 men for 10 and a half days alone was almost exhausted, waiting to loot some property from the three counties in the south to subsidize it.

It turned out unexpectedly that they would be bled to death here by an enemy garrison of less than two hundred men. In just a few days, they lost almost half their lives. It is precisely because of the high number of casualties that they have gathered that has made their supplies more wealthy, enough for the remainder of the population to persist for the next month.

Only with fewer enemies, they can hold on to this small fortress for longer. So, the first approach is undesirable, so the only thing left is ants. This method, although heavy in casualties, does not require the nobles of the Territory to fight in person. As long as they do not sacrifice themselves, some of the casualties are tolerated by armed aristocratic militias...