When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1114 The Knight Still Stands

"Have you heard? Lord Biright's reinforcements are all gone!"

"The Holy Alliance forces are almost at the city gates! Lord Putzillo is trying to flee!"

"It's over, it's over, our Square Wolfenburg is finished!"

The rustling wind carried whispers and murmurs through the crack in the door, pricking the heart of Knight Longhair like needles.

He reined in his horse and glanced back at the castle before him.

The guards on the city wall were no longer as imposing as before; some were drinking by the arrow towers, while others were squatting in the corners of the walls talking in hushed tones.

Even the spear in his hand was leaning against the wall at an angle, showing no sign of wariness whatsoever.

Are you sure His Excellency Putzillo has returned?

“Confirmed.” The guard at the gate whispered, “They just left the city and will be back soon.”

“Let’s go to Lord Putzillo’s residence.”

The horse bells jingled merrily, but Mao Lun's heart was unusually heavy.

He spent the afternoon in the military camp, growing increasingly anxious as he waited.

None of the knights sent to meet up with Bilette returned, and the soldiers in the camp had begun to whisper among themselves.

He even saw at least a dozen auxiliary soldiers secretly packing their belongings, preparing to escape.

But Mauryn had no better options than to whip them and lock them in the dungeon.

Rumors are flying everywhere. One minute they say the reinforcements have won, the next they say the reinforcements have been wiped out, and then they say Putzillo is dead too.

But Mauryn still couldn't believe it. Those were three thousand elite border knights. Could they be so easily wiped out?

Bypassing the cobblestone street corners and the oppressive alleyways, you arrive at this magnificent mansion that covers four or five acres.

This is the residence of the future Crown Prince of Leia, now the honorary Duke Putzillo.

However, compared to the previous tranquility, this place is much more lively today.

The once tidy courtyard was now in chaos, with several servants in silk vests carrying gold and silver utensils onto a carriage.

Gilded candlesticks, jewel-encrusted plates, and even beautiful women were haphazardly stuffed into the carriage.

Some people even pulled down the tapestries on the wall, and the velvet fabric fell to the ground, leaving black marks on the ground where it was trampled by horses' hooves.

A man who looked like a butler stood with his hands on his hips, yelling, "Hurry up! Get to work! The master said you have to finish this within an hour. If you delay the trip, I'll skin you alive!"

"What are you doing?!" Mao Lun rushed over and asked with a dark face.

The butler turned pale with fright and stammered, "Lord Maurice, it's His Excellency Putzillo's order to... to move things out of the manor..."

"Relocate? Relocate to where?" Mauryn's voice suddenly rose, the veins on the back of his hand bulging. "Where are the reinforcements? Where are Lord Bilette's reinforcements? Where is Lord Putzillo?"

The butler trembled from his outburst and pointed to the mansion: "His Highness is in the study..."

Mao Lun shoved the butler aside and ran straight to the study.

He walked through the chaotic corridor, where servants were either running frantically with their bundles or weeping and wailing, and there was no one to guide him.

He arrived at the study door, only to find it wide open. The sight before him chilled him to the bone.

The map on the desk was crumpled into a ball, and several opened letters were scattered on the floor.

Putzillo was standing with his back to him, bending down to tidy up a wooden box, which seemed to contain his fine clothes and sword.

"Your Excellency!" Maurin rushed to Putzillo. "Where is Lord Bilette? Where are the reinforcements? The soldiers in the camp are going crazy! Please say something!"

Putzillo slowly straightened up and turned around.

His brows were furrowed, his eyes were sunken, and his hair, which was usually neatly combed, was now a messy plaster on his forehead.

He glanced at Maurice, picked up the wooden box lid and gently closed it, his voice so tired it sounded like it was about to fall apart: "Don't ask anymore, Bilette is gone, the reinforcements of three thousand knights... all gone."

"What?!" Instinctively taking a step back, Mao Lun bumped into the bookshelf behind him, sending several heavy books crashing to the floor. "How could this happen? Weren't you supposed to be providing support? How could this be..."

“Support?” Putzillo chuckled self-deprecatingly and pointed out the window. “When I arrived, all I saw was a sea of ​​fire and a swamp.”

The Holy Alliance had already laid an ambush, waiting for us to fall into it.

If I had left even a moment later, I wouldn't have been able to bring back even these thousand men.

"So we're just leaving like this?"

"if not?"

Mauren grabbed Putzlion's arm tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force: "What about Skolston? What about our loyal followers in the city? Let's fight for our lives one last time!"

"The elite troops of Owen are all out lying in wait for Bilette. If we launch a full-scale attack now, we might be able to catch them off guard!" Putzillo forcefully shook off his hand, his brows furrowed: "Take a chance? Maurice, wake up, Prince Condé has been gone for ten years."

With Bilette dead and the reinforcements wiped out, morale in the city had long since collapsed, and it couldn't be kept secret any longer.

Go to the camp and see how many soldiers are still willing to take up arms.
Send them to attack Owen City? They'd be lucky if even a fifth made it out of town.

“It’s better to die than to run away!” Mauren grabbed Putzillo’s arm again.

This time he gripped even tighter, his nails almost digging into his flesh: "If you retreat, Dawn Island will be completely lost! Are we, the knights of Leia, destined to flee like stray dogs?"

“Dawn Island was never something we could hold.” Putzillo’s voice lowered, his eyes filled with helplessness. “If we lose it, so be it. Are we going to let our last elite knights perish on this meaningless battlefield?”

Mao Lun was stunned; his lips moved, but he couldn't utter a word.

Putzillo was telling the truth, but he just couldn't swallow his anger.

He remembered his father telling him the story of the Knight of Leia when he was a child.

Those heroes, riding white horses and wielding long swords, fought bloody battles against heretics and cultists on the front lines.

Even if we die in battle, we must plant our flag on the battlefield.

But now?

Leia's knights either have to join the Holy Alliance or retreat like Putzlio, lacking even the courage to draw their swords?
Is it really gone?

"Your Excellency!" After a long silence, Mao Lun's voice rang out softly, "I know we will lose, I know this battle may be meaningless."

Even if we lose, we have to fight. Leia's spirit cannot be lost like this!

If even we dare not draw our swords, then Leia's knights will probably lack the courage to even charge when they see the Holy Alliance!

He paused, his eyes gradually reddening: "You said you wanted to save the seeds, but how can the seeds sprout if they are not watered with blood?"
Even if I die here, I want the people of Dawn Island to know that the knights still live!

Putzlior stared blankly at Maurice, as if he were seeing him for the first time.

“The great nobles are all making peace with the Fran and the Holy Alliance, betraying their country for personal gain.” Putzio looked at him seriously for the first time. “But you lowly nobles have suffered so much at the hands of the kingdom, yet you still have to sacrifice yourselves for Leia… Is it worth it?”

“It’s worth it.” Mao Lun nodded vigorously, his voice trembling slightly. “Leia is the place where I was born and raised. Even if it’s riddled with holes, I can’t watch it be dismembered.”

"Lord Putzillo, I beg you—appoint me as the commander of the defenses of Schke Wolf Castle, and you take the rest of the men and the seeds with you."

"how about you?"

"It's alright!" Mao Lun straightened his chest. "I'll guard this place."

Putzillo looked into Maurice's eyes and suddenly felt a stinging sensation.

First Kennard, and now you, Maurice. Am I the only one in the world without backbone?

Do I, Putzillo, lack courage?!

“Good!” Putzillo took his sword from his waist and tucked it into Mauren’s belt. “I’m handing over the defense of Schroederwyn Castle to you.”

He stepped forward and gave Maolun a hug.

“If one day you are able to return to the Valley of a Thousand Rivers…” Mauryn whispered in Putzillo’s ear, “on the day of the memorial, please place a flower at my grave.”

Putzillo nodded vigorously, unable to speak.

He patted Mao Lun on the back, turned around, picked up the wooden box on the desk, and strode towards the door.

As he reached the door, he stopped, turned back to look at Mauryn, and said with a mixture of admiration and emotion, "I will. Goodbye, Sir Mauryn."

On May 20, 1456, Putzillo led the remaining soldiers away from Skölütschl and joined up with reinforcements from the rear.

On June 1, 1456, the army of the Dawn Island Defense Committee, led by its chief magistrate Joan of Arc, breached Skullcrawford.

After a week of fierce defense of the castle, the garrison commander of Scholastica, Mauryn, was captured on June 1st and committed suicide by jumping into a river during transport.

Towns and cities that had been observing the situation immediately felt that the time was ripe.

The Holy Alliance won; they should help the Holy Alliance.

So they all raised their flags in support, and in a short time the city walls changed hands and flags were replaced.

As for Putzillo and his army, they suffered repeated defeats.

By the end of summer, the original Five Cities Alliance had expanded into a Five Counties Alliance, and the number of troops had increased to nearly 30,000 in a short period of time.

Although more than half of them are useless, at least they look impressive enough.

At this moment, a call was rapidly spreading throughout the counties of Dawn Island—now that victory has been achieved, should we join the Holy Alliance or establish an independent nation?

　P.S.: Damn, my sleep schedule is almost in sync with vampires.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)