#266 - Has Count Enrico been fished out?
#266 - Has Count Enrico been fished out?
Count Enrico and his band, bewitched by the devil, were relentlessly pursued from the night of the 22nd until noon on the 23rd, barely reaching the outskirts of Greyforge Town.
Perhaps because they were near Greyforge Town, the despicable cavalrymen blowing the devil's wind finally ceased their pursuit.
Upon confirming this, Count Enrico immediately announced, "Push harder! Let's hold on a little longer, and we'll reach Greyforge Town."
"Yes."
"Oh."
His response was a weak and scattered echo. In the past, Enrico would have flown into a rage, berating the knights for their impudence.
But now, he was too exhausted, too tired even to be angry.
They had been driven all night by those despicable cavalrymen. These farmers-turned-cavalry never engaged in direct combat, instead ambushing from unexpected locations.
Throughout the night, they banged drums and even launched night raids, forcing the knights to remain sleepless.
Count Enrico, with dark circles under his eyes, felt his bones about to fall apart as he swayed on horseback, his throat parched and dry.
Initially, they had set out with 100 transcendent knights and an army of thousands. Now, upon their return, fewer than thirty transcendent knights remained. More than half of the serfs who had joined the expedition had disappeared, and only half of the original armed farmers still followed them.
Most importantly, Bernardo had gone missing during a previous attack, which filled Enrico with unease.
Had he truly left early out of disappointment? Should he report the true situation to Jeanne d'Arc Fortress?
Heavens, did he have to figure out how to explain things to his grandmother before even figuring out how to explain things to Lord Beauregard?
The early spring sun carried a hint of chill, and despite being fully dressed, Count Enrico couldn't stop a cold feeling from running down his spine into his brain.
Around two in the afternoon, the church tower of Greyforge Town finally came into view for the fleeing knights.
Count Enrico ordered a halt, a fifteen-minute rest, and for the men to tidy their clothes and perform a simple wash.
"Send a few servants to inform the town leader and bring back some clean clothes."
He couldn't swagger back in defeat.
Kneeling by the river, Count Enrico nearly fell headfirst into the water as he washed his face.
Looking down at his disheveled appearance in the water, Enrico chuckled self-deprecatingly.
He couldn't undo the past failure, but at the very least, he had to ensure that the failure didn't become a greater one.
Anyway, he was a count, protected by his grandmother, which meant the entire Alcott family would protect him. At worst, he would just have fewer opportunities with the church.
After making the final decision, Enrico even began to miss Bernardo.
"If only Bernardo were still here, at least I would know how to write a proper statement of events," Enrico muttered, shaking the water off his hands and lowering his head.
"Lord Enrico!"
A loud cry, coming from afar, startled Enrico out of his reverie. He looked up blankly, only to see the messenger he had sent to notify the town leader of Greyforge Town.
"Lord Enrico, I, I saw it, I saw it..."
"What did you see? Speak!" A bad feeling welled up in Enrico's heart, and he shouted sternly.
The messenger swallowed hard: "I saw it. A black and red flag is flying on the church tower of Greyforge Town."
The sound of orderly, almost demonic footsteps echoed once more, accompanied by the creaking of gears.
The soldiers sat on the ground, unable to stand. They had been driven like sheep by the armored cavalry all night. Once they collapsed, they couldn't straighten their legs again.
Those black-clad devils emerged once more from the hills and the horizon, aiming their dark muzzles at them.
Left, right, front, all were black-clad soldiers and dense spears, with the river behind them.
They were surrounded.
Enrico finally realized that while Jeanne had been chasing them in circles, the Salvation Army had marched rapidly and launched a night raid, occupying Greyforge Town before he returned.
Enrico's face instantly turned ashen.
With Greyforge Town lost, his minor defeat had turned into a major one, and now he was surrounded, turning the major defeat into a crushing one.
"Count, let's surrender," Arianco whispered, leaning his head close to Enrico's ear.
"Surrender?"
Enrico repeated subconsciously.
"Yes," Arianco said, pointing ahead. "They're shouting, 'Lay down your arms and you won't be killed.'"
"Are we knights, surrendering to farmers and commoners?" Enrico pointed at the black-clad soldiers. "Will they really keep their promise?"
"No, sir, listen carefully. Isn't that Nickle shouting? He's been captured."
"But we are nobles."
"We are nobles, but we were controlled by devils. This is unavoidable."
Enrico stared at Arianco's face as if seeing him for the first time, and Arianco responded with a sheepish smile.
"No, no..."
"Are you saying no?"
"No!" Realizing he was at a dead end, Count Enrico roared loudly.
Although he was a noble, he had integrity. He would never surrender, never become a slave to commoners. This was his last bottom line.
"Sir?"
In despair, Enrico threw off his cloak, turned around, and, to the astonishment of everyone, jumped into the river behind him!
Water splashed, and the icy river sequentially submerged his ankles, calves, and knees. The cold seeped into his skin.
Finally, looking at the dark mass of people, Enrico closed his eyes.
A knight's honor must never be trampled!
Farewell, world!
…………
"Has Count Enrico been fished out?"
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"He climbed out himself, said the water was too cold." Armand couldn't help but laugh as he handed a statistics sheet to Horn. "The stream only reached his thighs, he couldn't drown no matter what."
Horn couldn't help but laugh as well. He looked down at the list in his hand, which was a list of spoils and captures.
As with the information previously obtained from the local villagers, Greyforge Town indeed stored a large number of armor and weapons.
First, there were 523 armed swords, which, after filling the armed sword gap for the Holy Gunners, could also equip some of the spearmen.
Next were 1200 kettle helmets, which were originally ordered by the mercenary group, the Death Squad, but now completely fell into Horn's hands.
In the previous battle, the arrow rain had caused no small amount of damage to the Salvation Army, with twenty or so people being shot in the head and killed.
However, compared to the militia army of armed farmers, the fall and casualties of teammates would not stop the war monks.
With these kettle helmets, at least more than half of the entire Salvation Army had helmets to protect against arrows.
What surprised Horn the most was that the church had purchased 1000 sets of infantry-specific breastplates from Noon, which were also hoarded in Greyforge Town.
Adding the weapons and equipment stripped from the armed farmers and knights, Horn had nearly 1800 sets of good breastplates and 500 sets of various leather armors.
With this re-equipment, the Salvation Army's armor rate was as high as 52%, and almost all spearmen had a set of armor.
The remaining spoils of various kinds were countless, filling the carts to the brim.
Sitting in the second-floor study of the Greyforge Town lord's hall, he looked out the window.
The war monks, after a day and night of marching and fighting, were so tired that they lay directly on the ground to sleep.
So tired, they didn't directly break into civilian homes, but instead extorted some hay and bedding and slept under the eaves.
But even at this time, Horn still saw some war monks heading towards taverns and alleys frequented by prostitutes with money bags.
Horn knew that these Salvation Army soldiers did not have such strong beliefs.
But at least they wouldn't rob or insult women, and whether they were eating or doing that thing, they wouldn't freeload.
The Holy Father Association had worked hard all winter, but only achieved this level, but Horn knew that they had tried their best.
There was still a lack of talent.
"Have all the spoils been handed over?"
"They have all been handed over according to the proportion, and the quartermasters and accountants have all counted them."
Although it was said that the spoils should be turned over to the public, the war monks did not have such moral character and qualities.
It was better to dredge than to block such things, so Horn simply let go and said.
The private property left by knights and knight families on the battlefield, Horn adopted a three-way split strategy.
Although it was necessary to pay to the public, 30% of the spoils obtained remained in the hands of the war monks themselves, 20% remained in the legion as legion funds, and 50% was turned over to the Holy Treasury.
It had to be said that after two days of hunting, the Salvation Army was eating its fill.
Horn converted the spoils he received, and after deducting bonds and land deeds, it was almost 3000 gold pounds.
These were only a few monasteries and manors, and this group of noble and priests really had money.
But this money belonged to the Holy Father, why should they take it?
Only when it came into the hands of Horn, the orthodox successor of the Holy Father, would it be returned to its original owner!
"After the Black Hat Army's Third Legion and the Guards' Second Legion have rested, each lead their troops out to clear out monasteries and manors.
Let those war monks from Jeanne d'Arc Fortress go out and show the knight armor we have captured to the people in the various villages.
Tell them not to worry, tell them we have come as promised."
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