When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

Even as a pretender king, he knew one thing.

At the Saint Danji Military Academy, he once copied a line of aphorism from Horn’s lecture: "You fight for whom you derive your strength."

"Gloev," Alexei’s voice was deep, "you keep an eye on the pontoon, quicken the pace, let the kids go first."

"Your Highness you..."

"I’m going to steady the soldiers." Drawing the sword from his waist, Alexei turned his head, "I want to stand with my people."

Gloev wanted to say something but saw that Alexei was already riding down the hill on his horse.

He reached out his hand, his fingertips just brushing the corner of Alexei’s cloak: "Hey? Hey! Alas..."

The young lord with a knife rushed to the confused soldiers, his cloak unfurled in the wind like a billowing banner.

The banner swept over the army, and suddenly it calmed the disputes, the noisy sound gradually diminished.

"Bastards, what are you making a fuss about?" Alexei’s voice was not loud, but it overpowered the soldiers’ commotion.

Those ready to run, wanting to surrender, stopped their actions instinctively.

Dismounting, Alexei walked into the crowd, his gaze sweeping over every face.

"The vampires have come, but the pontoon is not broken, we still have gunners, and we still have blades!" Alexei raised his knife, "You want to run, I won’t stop you, but if you run, can you live?

You want to surrender, have you forgotten the fate of Fat Cow Castle? The bread given by the Royal Court is made with the blood of our compatriots!"

A soldier muttered softly, "But there are too many of them..."

"Many?" Alexei chuckled, pulling out a spring-loaded gun from his waist, quickly opening the breech and loading a pointed steel bullet, "They have blood knights, we have this!"

He raised his hand aiming at a withered tree in the distance, and pulled the trigger.

With a muffled "bang," the branch of the withered tree snapped, falling into the snow.

"Everyone, grab a gun!" Alexei tossed the gun to the soldier beside him, "Turn any spare rafts crosswise, prop crescent axes on them, make them into chevaux de frise, gunners form a line.

The rear people continue the bridging; once the children cross the river, we retreat!

If anyone dares to retreat or disrupt, my knife will be the first to cut off his head!"

The soldiers looked at Alexei, then at the approaching vampire army in the distance.

Soon some people slowly picked up the guns from the ground, and some returned to the pontoon, taking up axes and hammers.

Theomir finally got animated, he mounted his horse, and shouted, "Listen to His Highness! Form a line! Gunners in the front, spearmen in the rear!"

"Wooo—"

Suddenly a horn sounded from the distant vampire army.

The blood knights quickened their pace, the sound of horse hooves shook the ground slightly, as if they were charging right this way.

"Your Highness! Be careful!" A nearby officer shouted.

Instead of retreating behind the soldiers, Alexei mounted his horse to the front line.

He took a gun, quickly tightened the spring, and aimed at the figures above the heads of the blood knights.

Pokins, wearing scarlet soft armor, flew in the sky, seemingly controlling the movement of those zombie soldiers.

Aiming the gun at that figure, countless shootings and practices at the military academy’s shooting range finally took effect.

Taking a deep breath, Alexei pulled the trigger with his finger.

"Bang!" The lead bullet whistled through the wind, accurately hitting Pokins’ shoulder.

Thick black blood spurted out, Pokins grunted, then plummeted from the sky.

He misjudged the range of the spring gun, brazenly getting within 300 meters, and was so confident he didn’t wear armor.

In Pokins’ eyes, the spring gun was still the little garbage that could only shoot 150 meters.

Despite 300 being a tough range, Alexei miraculously hit the mark.

"Hit him! His Highness hit that vampire Count!" Someone shouted, and suddenly cheers erupted within the Shooting Army.

The once tense soldiers seemed to be infused with energy, the front-line gunners raised their spring-loaded guns one after another, pulling the triggers at the charging blood knights.

The "bang bang bang" of gunfire sounded continuously, several blood knights fell from their horses, and the pace of the following zombie infantry slowed down.

Theomir seized the opportunity to shout: "Keep firing! Don’t let them get close to the pontoon!"

The situation actually stabilized!

After Pokins fell, the vampire who took over clearly didn’t have his undead magic control ability, and dared not fly into the sky to observe the situation.

Soon, chaos erupted within the undead army.

In the river wind, gunfire, cheers, and roars mingled together.

The soldiers on the pontoon quickened their pace, the spruce planks were laid piece by piece, rapidly constructing towards the opposite shore, incredibly succeeding even surrounded by an army of over ten thousand.

"Children go first!" Alexei commanded, glaring at a soldier trying to flee amidst the chaos.

But he knew in his heart that this apparent victory was illusory.

Looking up into the distance, though Perkins was knocked unconscious, the Vampire Army was not too disrupted, only slightly slower.

Further away, a shadow was moving, that was Lakunio’s main force, slowly encircling.

At the current speed, there’s no way everyone can cross the floating bridge and reach the opposite bank, especially with more of the main forces coming.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Lakunio’s figure appeared behind the Vampire Army.

He rode a black horse, extending a spyglass, placing it before his somewhat blurry eyes, concentrating on observing the riverbank situation.

When he saw Perkins being carried away, he frowned, then ordered, "Immediately confirm Perkins’ status, report to me right away.

Have the Servant Army flank from both sides, the Blood Knights will hold them at the front, don’t let them escape!"

"Yes, Your Excellency."

In the moonlight, a Messenger rode a warhorse, holding a torch high, loudly announcing Lakunio’s orders.

"Orders from Lord Lakunio, pass it down, the Servant Army will flank from both sides..."

The clear orders echoed in the night sky, but Lakunio, holding the spyglass, waited a long time, yet the Servant Army didn’t move.

"Go urge them!"

"Yes."

After two urgings, the Servant Army finally advanced hesitantly.

Those in Norn armor, most of whom were former currency soldiers from Bacon Castle, hesitated visibly as they eyed the curved axes of the Shooting Army and listened to the increasing gunfire from the nearby guns.

They feared the Vampires, but feared more the guns in Alexei’s hands.

Now with Perkins’ life or death unknown, who knows what they’ve done? Why should they listen to a traitor?

They’re traitors themselves, who’s nobler than whom?

Lakunio swung his riding whip with a loud crack in anger: "This bunch of useless fools! If you don’t move, I’ll have the Blood Knights kill you first!"

The adjutant beside him advised, "Your Excellency, the Servant Army is inherently unreliable, we have a lot of men, slowly surrounding them will trap them, no need to bicker with the Servant Army."

Lakunio took a deep breath, suppressing his fury.

He looked at the Shooting Army on the riverbank, then at the built floating bridge, feeling slightly reassured.

Even if they built the floating bridge, not many could escape.

The main force of the Blood Race’s blood-covert musket infantry has arrived, this riverbank will eventually belong to the Royal Court.

They’re too slow, just beasts trapped in a hopeless struggle, at most sending that young master and children across the river only.

Even if not all goals were achieved, at least most were.

"Lakunio—" a hoarse, unearthly roar erupted from behind a mound.

Lakunio abruptly lifted his head, seeing a warhorse rear up in the full moon.

The towering warhorse carried a small old man, though hunched, his voice echoed across the riverbank: "Citizens of Duke Petrov! The Death Cuirassiers have come!"

It’s Kutuyov!

In the moonlight, a thunderous roar of hooves resounded.

A black mass of cavalry surged forth, clad in wolfskin vests, faces painted with warlines, and their sabers glinted in the moonlight.

Alexei stood dumbfounded, watching those Cuirassiers, densely packed, with more shadows coming over the hill.

Like a flood spreading over the hill.

At least two thousand!

Those were the Death Cuirassiers scattered among other mountain camps, all following Kutuyov.

How did they come? Why would they come?

Didn’t Kutuyov say he was unworthy of the Cuirassiers’ loyalty?

Yet they came nonetheless.

The gleam of sabers formed a sheet in the night sky, the hoofbeats made the ice shards in the river tremble.

Never mind the Servant Army, even the Vampire Army began to stir slightly.

Standing on the hill, reining in his horse, Kutuyov eyed the Shooting Army below, then glanced at the distant Lakunio, his voice seething with anger: "Lakunio! You traitor! Today I shall bury you by the Fetkat River!"

After saying this, he pointed his saber forward: "Cuirassiers, charge!"