industrial lord

Chapter 757 A Series of Bad News

The atmosphere inside the deerskin tent was so heavy it was almost suffocating.

Kosdorf sat upright on the wooden stake that served as a chair, his face as gloomy as a dark cloud, his fingers unconsciously reaching for the dagger at his waist.

Snellman paced back and forth in the tent, extremely agitated, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead and his eyes revealing undisguised anxiety.

Kazimir frowned, remained silent, and stared intently at the ground as if trying to pierce through the thick felt carpet.

What has put the three kings in a predicament is not the exploding barrels that have been randomly appearing at night for days.

Although the barrels appeared like ghosts, exploding with a loud bang, leaving charred craters and the soldiers' cries, it paled in comparison to another piece of bad news.

The bad news came from a man who had fled from the north.

Baron Trins lost his left hand in the ambush that night. Although the wound was roughly bandaged, it still bled, staining his sleeve red.

He managed to escape by feigning death, huddled among the corpses, listening to the enemy's footsteps recede into the distance, each second feeling like an eternity.

He remained lucid and knew that if Kosdorf investigated the matter later, he and the noble generals would be held accountable.

Therefore, he endured the excruciating pain and went south to report, eager to shirk all responsibility. He even rehearsed his defense repeatedly to ensure that every word was watertight.

The fortress is gone, the fleet is gone, the supplies are gone, everything is gone.

This news was like an ice pick piercing everyone's heart, enough to completely overturn the course of the battle.

Kosdorf did not believe his argument that "the defeat of a key force of Wessen's army was only due to the incompetence of friendly forces, which allowed other enemies to break into the fortress."

But that's no longer important; the complete severing of logistical supplies is an undeniable fact.

News of the lack of supplies leaked out and spread like a plague through the military camp. Nobles and soldiers began to whisper among themselves, and morale plummeted.

Kazimir was deeply shaken.

If the communications of the Kingdom of Sverrière have been disrupted by the Duchy of Wesen, then what about the troops I sent to Hamma City?
A chill, even more biting than the wind outside the tent, spread from the depths of his heart. He seemed to see that the fire in the report did not burn the army that was blocking his way, but the tens of thousands of elite soldiers and generals.

Snellman was equally anxious. He had originally brought his troops here with the intention of taking advantage of the chaos, making a quick victory, and then retreating after plundering some spoils. Now, however, he was stuck in a quagmire and might not be able to escape unscathed.

The army of the Kingdom of Suomi is currently trapped abroad. If this continues, the country will be left vulnerable. Although the Grand Duke of the Duchy of Ylgarod in the south is a coward who dares not take the initiative to attack, he still has a few capable men under his command. If they were to enter while the country is vulnerable, it would be a catastrophe.

"Attack!" Kosdorf commanded decisively, his voice booming like thunder, shattering the deathly silence within the tent. "Attack with all our might! Don't stop until nightfall!"

"Capturing Rudolf alive is our only hope."

A mad light ignited in his eyes; only in this way could the tide be turned.

Snellman nodded heavily, a deep voice echoing in his throat. For the Kingdom of Suomi, this war could not be lost; otherwise, with insufficient supplies to survive the harsh winter and enemies on the outside, the entire country would be doomed.

Just then, a knight strode in, the sound of his armor scraping against the ground particularly jarring. He knelt on one knee and handed a telegram to Kazimir.

Casimir unfolded the telegram and read it carefully. His pupils suddenly contracted, his face drained of color, and his fingers trembled uncontrollably.

“No…this is impossible…” he murmured, his voice almost swallowed by suppressed panic, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, “How could he be there?!” The tent fell silent instantly, everyone looking at him.

Kosdorf's heart sank, and he immediately realized that something terrible had probably happened in the Kingdom of Piast; the weight of that telegram was enough to crush a king.

"Your Majesty Kazimir, what happened?" he asked urgently, his tone unusually tense.

Casimir spoke with difficulty, his lips trembling, and uttered a horrifying piece of news: "Frederick von Wessen... he is now within our borders and has led his army to capture Bestburg."

Besteburg is located in the eastern part of the Kingdom of Piaster. It is a key town that Kazimir captured when he expanded eastward to recover after the defeat at the Battle of the Elbe. It guards the main road and is an important node for controlling the newly occupied eastern territories.

The Kingdom of Piast was able to rebuild its winged cavalry thanks to the supply of resources to the vast plains to the east.

Now it has not only fallen, but has also been personally captured by Grand Duke Wessen.

Kazimir's first reaction was that this might be fake news spread by Wesen's side, but such an outrageous plot didn't seem like it was fabricated. If they were going to fabricate it, they would have fabricated something reasonable like Wesen sleeping with dozens of noble ladies in the capital. It was probably true.

At this time, Piast had deployed all his main forces, leaving the country vulnerable, with the defending troops in various regions consisting mainly of the old, weak, sick, and disabled.

Not long ago, because the 3rd Division was eyeing the western border and might launch another attack after attacking Gubinburg, the government ordered all available troops to be transferred to the western border for defense, leaving the eastern border extremely depleted.

Even more seriously, he couldn't understand how the other side had succeeded. Was it a noble insider who betrayed them, or the Osmarca Empire, or even the Weisen Kingdom, that had an army that bypassed Bohemia and went to the eastern region?

The most critical thing was that he suddenly remembered that his two younger sisters had long been in Weisen's hands, and if they were involved...

Kazimir's heart seemed to stop for a moment. He felt a tightness in his chest, almost unable to breathe, and cold sweat poured down his forehead.

Despair ignited in his eyes, and the telegram slipped from his fingers, silently sliding to the ground.

"We must launch a full-scale attack!"

Kazimir suddenly screamed, his voice hoarse like a beast struggling for its last breath in a trap.

The only way to break the deadlock right now is to capture Rudolf alive and use him to force Wesen to withdraw his troops; otherwise, the Kingdom of Piast—or rather, the king himself—will be plunged into an abyss of no return.

"Break into the fortress and capture Rudolf alive!"

The three kings quickly reached an agreement. Kosdorf immediately ordered the army to be assembled, and Snellman echoed his decision. The three exchanged a heavy look, their tacit understanding revealing a do-or-die determination.

After lunch, bugles sounded repeatedly in the camp, their deep blasts echoing between the tents. The army began to assemble, and even the winged hussars dismounted to prepare for foot combat.

The soldiers hurriedly swallowed their dry rations, drank a few sips of wine, and carefully wiped their weapons, their faces filled with exhaustion and determination.

They carried weapons and shields, prepared torches for illumination, piled sacks of mud on their wagons, and stuck thick wooden planks in front of them to provide cover for their attack.

The entire army surged forward like a tidal wave, the sounds of clashing armor and footsteps blending into a thunderous roar as they launched a full-scale attack on the Hongshuiche Village fortress.

The wind stopped, the sun set, and the afterglow painted the sky red.

(End of this chapter)