When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

In April of 1459, looking down on the muddy roads of the Roaring Corridor, one could see flocks of wagons and horses heading south.

The pale sunlight shone on the body, but it lacked the warmth of spring, instead bringing an indescribable sultry heat.

Green grass like jade, purple flowers like emeralds, and streams pushing the residual snow on the banks, turning into foam ahead.

Following behind the long lines of the gray-clad Shooting Army, the wagons were not loaded with goods but rather with women and children.

These women, like herding sheep, used long sticks to manage the crying children.

Most of these women carried a baby on their back, and according to the policy of the Shooting Army, mothers of infants could come along, but they had to take care of the other children.

Riding on horseback, Alexei looked at the women and children swaying on the wagons, feeling an inexplicable bitterness.

Originally, when the Shooting Army wanted to escape, the local freemen and villagers were extremely angry.

But when he proposed that the children could be taken away, this anger vanished instantly like smoke.

People just left on their own, bringing their children, while the young people hid with the dry rations issued by the Shooting Army, leaving the elderly behind.

This was almost an unspoken rule agreed upon by Norn: when the blizzard came, the children left, the young hid, and the elderly stayed.

Many officers who initially doubted that taking the children would slow down the journey suddenly realized the reason behind it.

They had thought they would need to struggle with the local villagers for a while, but now it wasn’t necessary, and it was even faster than just hitting the road directly.

Yet, compared to the praised strategy, Alexei was feeling less than cheerful.

What kind of strategy was this... clearly, the villagers had become numb in countless moments of despair.

Even a small hope was enough to win them over.

They were terrified of killing, terrified of death!

What seemed like a bad ending to Alexei, was already a good ending in the eyes of many villagers.

But for Alexei, he could not accept it.

However, this bitterness couldn’t last long, because there were more pressing matters at hand.

"What’s the meaning of the appearance of Blood Knights scouts on the main road?" Alexei reined in his horse, shocked.

"It’s exactly as it sounds," Gloev said in a low voice, "The vampire scouts not only caught up but also intercepted us from the front."

Another officer immediately spoke up, "There aren’t many of them, and it’s daytime, so they probably won’t dare to confront our convoy head-on; they’re likely preparing to harass and block us up ahead."

There was immediately a buzz of whispers around.

"Have they already caught up?"

"I said we shouldn’t have taken those children, it’s too slow."

"We might as well abandon them now..."

Facing such remarks from his subordinates, Alexei pursed his lips even tighter before finally speaking: "Their thirty thousand troops definitely haven’t all arrived; this pursuit is likely just the vanguard."

"We understand that too, but even so, are we, these three to five thousand people, their match?"

Alexei fell silent again, as Lakunio, having been a renowned general at the border for so long, was rightly recognized.

Once he noticed something was wrong, he did not hesitate, immediately dispatching the vanguard directly at the Shooting Army.

As for the vampire troops and those of the Servant Army, they were unexpectedly efficient.

Faced with such orders, they truly carried them out, and did so quite well, catching up right at this moment.

It should be known that originally this Lakunio was merely an aide to Prince Kongdai, a secondary commander.

If he was at this level, what about Prince Kongdai? What kind of battles did the Saint’s Grandson fight back then?

Alexei forced himself to calm down, "Estimate how far ahead they are."

"About dozens of miles, we’ll reach them by evening."

"Calculated quite precisely!" Gloev cursed.

If they continued according to the original plan, they’d surely be harassed by the Blood Knights, slowing down their march.

Yet, if they intentionally slowed down and reached the area only at sunrise, then the delay of the Shooting Army’s aim would be achieved.

Damn, if only they had a suitable unit of Cuirassiers, even if they could just hire one!

Originally thinking that hired Cuirassiers had poor discipline, morale, and fighting force, he decided to recruit the Death Cuirassiers instead.

But now it seemed they should have first solved the issue of availability before worrying about quality.

"Or choose to take a detour?"

"Where to detour, may I ask."

"Abandon the carriages and supplies, and we go directly using the Trail of Wind."

"We should abandon these children and hurry along."

"How much faster can we be if we abandon these children? We can’t use the carriage on the Wind Chasing Path."

"No, the end of the Wind Chasing Path is a fishing village by the Fett Carter River. Do you think I haven’t been here before? You blood spy!"

"You pig, we’ll build a floating bridge across. It’s perfect timing while the snow hasn’t completely melted, and the water hasn’t risen!"

"Is this place really going to be our burial ground?"

"Or, we could surrender first, feign allegiance, and repent later. With Alexei’s status, wouldn’t the Duke position be still fitting?"

Indeed, the Saint’s Grandson’s writings mentioned the emergence of defeatist and surrenderist strategists.

Amidst various opinions, Alexei keenly spotted a reliable suggestion about the Wind Chasing Path and the Fett Carter River.

When the Saint’s Grandson gave a lecture at the Saint Danji Military Academy, he mentioned — "Never do what your enemy hopes you will do."

Whether speeding up or slowing down, it’s all about spinning within the enemy’s logic. They must break free.

Taking a detour and using a floating bridge is a good choice.

This is because the ferry and fishing village have ready-made small boats and rafts, and the Fett Carter River isn’t very wide.

At its widest, it’s several tens of meters, while at its narrowest, only a dozen meters.

The Shooting Army could probably build a floating bridge in half a day, and with an afternoon and whole night, there’s enough time to transfer all three to five thousand people.

After crossing the river, destroy the bridge and burn down the ferry. The Royal Court army would then have to take a detour, costing them at least two extra days.

With those two days, it’s enough time for Alexei to reach the reception range of the Holy Alliance fortifications.

Currently, both the Royal Court and the Holy Alliance are in a sensitive period, neither willing to provoke the other, silently amassing strength.

If Lakunio dares to chase into the Shattered Stone Plain fortification area, André would likely be happy to swallow these ten thousand men.

"Quiet, all listen to His Highness." As soon as Alexei spoke, the adjutant beside him immediately shouted.

The various lords then halted, gathering around Alexei.

Alexei straightened his posture as much as possible, adopting a tone he once hated, the high and mighty one: "Women and children dismount, take the Wind Chasing Path first, recruit hands to chop wood.

Carriages keep going forward, then untether. Those who can ride horses stay behind to deal with the Blood Knights. I will personally lead the team."

No matter what opinions were previously expressed, once Alexei spoke, they all beat their chests: "As you command, Your Highness."

.......

"Bang!" In the Salted Meat Castle, Lakunio smashed the orders onto the table and removed his helmet.

"Sir?" Pokkins asked curiously.

Lakunio pointed heavily at the orders: "Those fools really think Alexei plans to abandon the children, entangle the Blood Knights for the Shooting Army to pass."

"Oh?" Pokkins picked up the orders for a glance, "Does Sir Lakunio have a different judgment."

"This kid must have gone on the Wind Chasing Path, it’s too obvious."

"Could he possibly succeed?"

Lakunio rolled his eyes: "Does he think his Shooting Army is the Salvation Army of the Holy Alliance, or that the roads from Bear Castle can compare to those of Thousand River Valley?"

Throwing his leather gloves onto the table, Lakunio took a sip of beer: "This move must be learned from Horn with a belly full of ghostly tricks, yet he forgets all battlefield deceit begins with a premise of intelligence disparity.

Horn could devise many amazing plans, breaching His Highness the Prince’s siege multiple times because the nobles and priests of Thousand River Valley were overly corrupt and negligent, and because of the naturally mountainous swamp terrain.

You take Horn and set him in the flat hills of Hotam County, within three days, the Prince would catch him on the pyre for roasting!

Once he became powerful, why did he align with the Kush Knight? Wasn’t it all for battlefield perception?

The Norn terrain requires knights, demands cavalry reconnaissance and counter-reconnaissance more than ever.

This Alexei brought the infantry formation from Thousand River Valley here, neglecting the cavalry. Isn’t he just creating trouble for himself?"

"Doesn’t Lakunio trust these frontline generals?" Pokkins removed his hood in the remnants of the sunset glow.

His pale complexion faded in the sunset, his eyes gradually turning gem-red.

"Sir Pokkins, only you can accompany me on a trip."

Pokkins didn’t immediately respond but looked out the window.

When the last ray of sunset fell behind the castle, the castle plunged into eerie silence.

"Die, you demons!"

"Ah—"

"Old man, old man! I’m fighting you!"

Listening to those screams, Lakunio’s expression changed, but Pokkins smiled.

Just like those vampires emerging from the shadows of eaves.

"Leaving tomorrow morning, is it in time?"