Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 857 - 93 Weapons

Chapter 857: Chapter 93 Weapons Chapter 857: Chapter 93 Weapons When the left wing and the central army of the Iron Peak County Military gripped the enemy’s right wing like a vise, the only fate awaiting the Terdon Tribe was destruction and death.

The “Blasting Point” that directly led to the complete collapse of the Terdon people’s morale was the thunderous fall of the great tent’s flag.

Faced with the champion blades of Paratu… the fire-tenders ran away.

The battle ended at that moment, and what remained was the victors pursuing the defeated.

The fleeing Terdon soldiers, terrified and desperate, scrambled into dense forests and climbed wild mountains, fleeing in all directions without choosing their paths.

The exhausted militiamen of Iron Peak County had no strength left to chase their fleeing enemies, the true pursuers being the Piaoqi troops from Paratu—in a sense, this was precisely what the cavalry excelled at.

The Piaoqi cavalry, riding hot-blooded fine horses, moved swiftly like the wind. They drove the fleeing Terdon soldiers relentlessly, and both sides soon vanished over the horizon.

...

It was only at nightfall that the bloody day seemed to finally declare its end.

The surviving militiamen wanted to return to the camp to rest but found that the camp no longer existed.

For the camp of the Iron Peak County Military was the battlefield itself, this flat farmland between mountains and forests scattered with unattended corpses and moaning wounded.

So much blood had been shed that the air smelled sickeningly sweet.

The militiamen lingered on the edge of the battlefield, unsure where to go, unsure what to do.

Friends and relatives who survived the ordeal met and many could not help but burst into tears. Even more people were searching the bodies and tearfully calling out the names of their family members.

It was at this time that Mason encountered Bard.

Senior Mason, who usually maintained social distance with polite reserve, unexpectedly hugged his junior tightly, which Bard found somewhat hard to adapt to.

When comrades reunited, there truly were endless things they wanted to say. But when the words came to their mouths, they again didn’t know what to say.

Still, Mason sniffled and smiled as he spoke first, “Really feel like having some elbow meat.”

“Yeah,” Bard replied gently with a smile, “me too.”

Bard had also just arrived at the battlefield, bringing with him a complete logistics squadron.

Previously, Bard had been stationed in Kennel Village, ten kilometers south of the battlefield.

According to the combat plan laid out by Winters and Bard: Winters would command the main force to seek a decisive battle while Bard, positioned behind the battlefield, would find a suitable location to build a stronghold, accumulate supplies, and prepare for the worst-case scenario.

Fortunately, there was no need for the contingency plan this time.

When Bard heard from the courier cavalry that the battle’s outcome had been decided, he immediately led the supply troops to rush to the front line, arriving at the battlefield just before dusk.

What awaited Bard was an unprecedented mess.

“All tangled up,” Bard summarized with a bitter smile, “Completely frazzled.”

During their conversation, a gendarme with a white armband ran over, gasping for breath and requested, “Civil Guard Officer, the stretcher team has caught two militiamen cutting off barbarian heads, what should we do?”

Mason couldn’t help frowning.

Stealing [spoils of war] not only severely violated military discipline, but its moral severity was even greater.

Bard’s reaction was rather calm, “Bring them here.”

The “criminals” were quickly brought before Bard and Mason.

Judging by their appearances alone, both prisoners were peasants who would be hard to pick out in a crowd. Standing before “Sir Civil Guard Officer,” they didn’t even know where to put their hands, moving them from behind their backs to hanging by their sides.

First, they looked around fearfully at the soldiers, then they quickly fixed their gaze on the ground, continually swallowing.

“Stretch out your hands,” Bard approached the prisoners.

Prodded by the gendarme a few times, the two peasants hesitantly extended their rough, calloused palms.

Bard looked at their hands and asked, “Do you admit to personally severing barbarians’ heads?”

The two peasants did not reply.

The gendarme escorting the prisoners was furious and raised his stick to strike.

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Bard stopped the gendarme and asked again amiably, “Did you cut off the heads of Terdon people?”

One peasant turned pale and nodded. The other, a bit younger, nodded as well with tears.

“Five lashes each, publicly executed, right now,” Bard issued the judgment, “After the whipping, send them back to Saint Town with the injured in the wagon, and relieve them from conscription.”

The two peasants were led away.

Stealing results in amputation, a universal truth; stealing spoils of war, even deserving of hanging.

Clearly, five lashes was too lenient a sentence, Mason neither understood nor agreed.

But since those present were all Bard’s subordinates, the senior had to maintain the dignity of his junior, so Mason did not show any opposition.

Bard realized what his senior was thinking and extended an invitation, “Senior, since you’re here, shall I show you around the camp?”

Mason readily agreed.

The two of them each led a horse and walked slowly around the camp without any attendants.

Bard set up the logistics camp on the south side of the battlefield, right next to the road.

The logistics squadron’s peasants cut down trees, lit bonfires, boiled water, and baked biscuits.

In the pitch-black night, the clusters of bonfires in the camp shone brightly and warmly like beacons.

Occasionally, militiamen, dragging their weary steps and carrying their weapons, numbly walked towards the light.

The patrolling gendarmes were accustomed to this.

The gendarmes handed a piece of bread to the battle-weary arrivals, wrapped them in a blanket, led them to the fire, and then went to guide others.

Horsemen carrying torches went out to find lost soldiers, while wagons carrying the injured rattled towards the rear.

Unknowingly, Mason and Bard reached the edge of the battlefield.