stonecrandall Chapter 181 Crisis and the Iron Citizens
Chapter 181 Crisis and the Iron Citizens
Chapter 112 Crisis and the Iron Citizens
His voice was very low, carrying the worry of an elder and the sense of responsibility of a commander.
"Tell me the truth. Are you insisting on going east to grab another huge sum of spoils, or... do you have some other plan?"
"Yes, I admit that retreating to the disputed interior colonies was a mistake in hindsight! You're right, we're more likely to encounter enemy forces first, rather than our own allies."
"But we don't need to cross the river!" Jules pointed the command pole to the Rieslan region, located downstream of Broken Spear City.
"Just like you said, now that their main force has captured the flank corridor and is preparing to enter the heart of the disputed territory, there probably aren't many people in the Rieslan region."
"And our navy currently holds absolute control over the disputed river!"
"Listen, Tiberius, let's head straight south along the river! As long as we're fast enough, we can rendezvous with the navy in Rieslan before the enemy discovers us! That's the safest route! Why risk crossing the river here into the heart of Volantis, venturing into the den of wolves? I personally think that risk is unnecessary!"
Tiberius suddenly raised his head, his eyes showing no hesitation typical of a young man, only a sharp, hawk-like glint.
"Uncle, haven't you seen it yet?" His finger tapped the winding, disputed river on the map, and the colony marked as the Kingdom of the Three Daughters on the disputed land.
"Look at this area upstream along the disputed river! Desolate! Barren! Lacking stable supply points! Before we even reach Riseland to the south, we'll probably starve to death!"
"Uncle, ever since we started heading north, when have our supplies ever been truly stable? It's always been tight. Now everyone's eating their fill, that's because we're feeding the enemy! Now, with this hasty retreat south, without rear support or food supplies, what will we three thousand men eat? Drink river water?"
He stepped closer, his tone urgent and forceful: "This is even with the fact that we are on the west side of Broken Mountain, where the natural barrier has helped us block the Valantis from the Rieslan region, as well as the roads built by the Kingdom of the Three Daughters."
"And now, we must travel along the disputed river to reach the Rieslan region, where we are short of food and supplies. Before we even arrive, we will have lost at least a quarter of our people!"
"What's worse is this!" Tiberius moved a piece engraved with an agile warhorse, with a warrior carrying a scimitar on its back, to the Rieslan region.
"Uncle." Tiberius raised his head, his eyes burning.
"Uncle, if you were Marcus, the general of Valantis, and you have now captured the flank corridor, the entire heart of the disputed lands is completely under your command. Once Valantis's swift scout cavalry discovers that our isolated army is retreating south—" Tiberius's face paled slightly.
"Uncle, how many horses do we have? How many ships? Most of us can only walk! And the Valantis? How many light cavalry do they have?"
Tiberius seemed to already see the horrific scene: "Once Marcus decides to retreat upstream, even if his army moves slowly, he will send out a large number of cavalry as vanguards and scouts! Our exhausted and immobile infantry legion, marching across the open riverbank plain, will be like carrion in the eyes of vultures! We will be worn down and crushed by their cavalry!"
"General Valantis has suffered a defeat and is retreating. He desperately needs a victory—even if it's just to annihilate our detachment—to silence his political enemies at home and solidify his position!"
"And our meritorious legion, which just defeated their flanking force upstream and is now heading south alone," is the perfect target! A piece of fat meat delivered right to his mouth, which he can use to save face!
'
Tiberius took a deep breath and concluded decisively: "Therefore, heading south, while seemingly safe, is actually a gamble with a nine-out-of-ten chance of death, or even a ten-out-of-ten chance! It's a slow suicide!"
"What's more, now that we're heading south, I estimate that resupply will be even more difficult than when we came upstream! Putting everything else aside, Uncle, our only hope after heading south is the granaries and villages in the Rieslan region, but right now, even rats in Rieslan are probably starving to death! If I were General Marcus, seeing the River of Controversy filled with the warships of the Three Daughters Kingdom, I would immediately turn the entire Rieslan region into scorched earth, and I'd prioritize my own survival!"
Tiberius suddenly pointed his finger to the east.
"Crossing the river to the east is the only way out! We have captured maps and know that their nearest stronghold is sparsely defended! If we take it, we'll have supplies and a stronghold to hold! We can also disrupt their rear, force them to divide their forces, and perhaps even create a miracle! Uncle, this isn't about greed or seeking wealth; it's about fighting for survival!"
Jules stared intently at the map, then glanced at Joses's face, tense with excitement. The only sounds in the tent were the crackling of the oil lamp and the faint sound of distant waves. After a long silence, he slowly exhaled, the last trace of hesitation in his eyes replaced by resolve. He slammed his fist on the table: "Damn it! I trust you this time! We're going east!"
The salty sea breeze, carrying the smell of burning and a faint stench of corpses, blew against a shabby "makeshift ship".
This "pieced-together" catamaran, a rudimentary cobbled together from two dilapidated flat-bottomed longboats, was gently rocking with the waves, drifting like a withered leaf near the estuary of the disputed river. Beside this "pieced-together" were two other flat-bottomed boats with freeboards that were about to sink below the river's surface.
This small fleet consisted of about eighty emaciated pirates and sailors, some sitting and some lying down, most of them wounded, and the atmosphere was so oppressive it could be squeezed out of you.
Sevita, a young man from the Iron Country who had just turned fifteen but whose face was already etched with the marks of time and bore a fresh scar, was gripping a stolen pair of binoculars with cracked lenses in frustration.
He abruptly slammed down his binoculars, spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and cursed wildly, his voice hoarse yet filled with ferocity: "Damn it! Those bastards of Valantis are fucking incredibly unlucky! They run into the wrath of the Drowning God just by leaving the port! Did their governor get drunk one day and sleep with the Drowning God's wife and then impregnate her? Bah! I curse their ancestors for eighteen generations!!!"
He grew angrier with each word, kicking the swaying gunwale: "And then? That admiral, whose brain was filled with seaweed and who was as stupid as a seal slapped by an oar: he watched those army lords on shore looting money, food, and women, his eyes gleaming like a dolphin in heat! He actually ordered us, a bunch of stepchildren, to be the vanguard?! To ram those warships of the Three Daughters Kingdom, which were kept more pristine than the teeth of noble ladies?! Why the hell didn't he send his own few precious, gold-plated warships to their deaths?!"
He looked around at his remaining troops and the dilapidated ship beneath his feet, a look of extreme mockery and schadenfreude on his face.
"But now look what's happened! Karma! His own showy flagship, the 'Pride of Valentis,' was the first to have its hull pierced by a crossbow bolt from a ship of the Third Daughter Kingdom! It slid right down there to feed the fish! He deserved it!"
After venting his anger, Sevita, panting heavily, glanced at the chaotic scene before him.
Although the River of Controversy now theoretically flies the flag of the Kingdom of the Three Daughters, in reality, after the war, all that can be seen is ruins: the piers are broken, the docks have collapsed, and merchants can no longer travel. Countless debris and bloated corpses float on the river, and there are far more stray dogs than people on the banks.
"Pah!" He spat again. "If it weren't for those few tattered flags still flying, who the hell would know who owns this place now?"
He scratched his greasy hair in frustration, went into the cabin, and unfolded a map that had been ripped from the corpse of some unfortunate officer—a map that was both wet and hardened by the sun. He traced lines on it with his finger, finally stopping at the upstream area.
"We can't stay downstream anymore. There's no profit to be made, and it's just trouble. With so few of us, we'll probably be taken as spoils by those damned beasts of the Three Daughters Kingdom." He muttered to himself, a sly glint in his eyes.
"But our ship has a shallow draft, so their large ships can't get in. Let's go upstream! Let's try our luck upstream! The fighting isn't too fierce over there; maybe we can get some scraps. It's better than waiting to die here!"
He looked up and roared at his men on deck who were staring at him, "Stop playing dead, you bastards! Hoist the sails! Row! We're going upstream! Let the damned bastards of the Kingdom of Three Daughters and Valantis play in this place!"
The order was given, and the dilapidated "piecemeal ship" and two other equally battered flat-bottomed longboats clumsily adjusted their course and sailed upstream along the controversial river, heading towards the unknown upstream waters in search of a glimmer of hope.
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