When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 1183 Kutuyov (Two-in-one chapter)

Bagri's roar was like a boulder thrown into a boiling bonfire, instantly freezing the dancing hussars.

Their hands were still on each other's shoulders, and wine jars lay scattered at their feet.

Alexei also stopped dancing and turned to look around.

He was a man half a head taller than the cavalrymen around him, carrying a gray wolf pelt that was still dripping blood on his shoulder.

Three deep red battle marks were tattooed across his face, running from his left brow bone down to his chin, and a crooked cross was tattooed below his right eye.

He had two sabers at his waist, their scabbards wrapped in worn deerskin, clearly indicating that he had just come straight back from the hunting grounds and hadn't even had time to unload his weapons.

"Boss Bagley!" The first to react was the burly man who had poured Alexei the drink. He hurriedly hid the bottle behind his back. "We...we were chatting..."

"Chatting?" Bagley took a step forward, his boots creaking on the gravel. "What did I say before I left? I told you to treat me well!"

He emphasized the word "treat well," just like the curly-haired old lady from before.

The surrounding cavalrymen all lowered their heads, even the most outgoing, tall and thin one clenched his clothes tightly.

Everyone knew that Bagley's "good hospitality" was intended to make Alexei falter under the cold treatment and pressure, and back down immediately.

But now, they're really treating us well, calling us "brother" and "sister."

Alexei remained calm. He slowly wiped his mouth and said, "Your Excellency Bagry, you misunderstand. I am a guest. It would be very impolite to start the meal before the host arrives."

It would be too shameful to ask them to bring out their precious bear paws to treat us, so we exchanged them for wine and spices.”

"Yes, yes, that's it!" The cavalrymen around them, carrying wine jars, echoed in agreement.

“Not only that, I can keep supplying you with wine and spices, as long as you come to the Bacon Castle.” Alexei grinned, revealing his true intentions. “I can provide you with even more!”

"What can you offer?" an old voice asked. "I saw something strange when I woke up this morning."

“Professor Kutuyov.” At this moment, even Bagry put aside his arrogant expression and stepped back.

But the expression on this big guy's face looked like he was annoyed. What was he annoyed about?
At this moment, Alexei realized that although Bagry was the boss, there was still a real manager in charge of everything.

This is usually an elder among the Death Hussars, the most prestigious elder.

Kutuyov—he remembered him as one of his father's fierce generals, but he wasn't sure if the person in front of him was him, because Kutuyov wasn't an obscure name.

However, Alexei was somewhat disappointed when the man came out.

He was short, hunched over, with gray hair and a receding hairline.

He was wearing a bearskin cloak, but it looked empty and bare, like a clothes rack with only his skeleton left.

Not to mention his gait, which was unsteady, as if he were about to fall.

"I'm asking you, lad," the old man said, stopping under the thatched hut by the campfire. "What can you offer?"

Faced with this Kutuyuv, Alexei naturally didn't connect him with that "Kutuyuv," and confidently said:

"Spices, salt, iron, equipment—whatever you lack, I can provide!"

Alexei's confidence stemmed from the fact that Groyev had amassed a great deal of wealth by taking advantage of the Holy Alliance's demand for beef.

After the fall of Fat Cowburg, Groyev mortgaged his border beef trading company as collateral, essentially sacrificing his own resources to obtain a war bond for national restoration.

Through the channels of Red Leaf Hill, he leveraged a large sum of money from the Empire, which he could use for fighting.

But this also means that Alexei must quickly achieve victory and seize the spoils in order to regain public confidence in the bonds.

"Then?"

"I will pay all the Death Hussars a salary, the salary of the standing army, not to mention the same as the Holy Alliance or the Marksmanship Army, it will at least not be much lower."

"and then?"

And then? Quite an appetite, huh?

However, Alexei was not afraid. As long as Bear Castle could be restored, the money he had given away would come back one day.

“Besides salaries, after the war I can also allocate land to you, allocate national debt annuities, and even titles.”

"Oh, right." Alexei's gaze swept across the room. "I've given you money and a lot of spoils. I only have one request: no killing of civilians or robbing of caravans. Can you agree to that?"

"Any more?"

"Why don't you tell me?" Alexei's eyes twitched, but he still smiled and looked into Kutuyov's eyes, as if waiting for him to make an offer.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

Kutuyov remained silent, staring intently into Alexei's eyes.

"Hmph hmph hmph, hahahahaha—"

Abruptly, the old man burst into laughter, but his laughter was unpleasant, like that of a dying crow.

"Are you the Grand Duke's son?"

"What did you say?" Groyev stood up abruptly, but Alexei pulled him back.

However, Alexei's expression was equally unpleasant. Anyone would be upset if questioned about not being their father's child: "Your Excellency Kutuyov, what do you mean by that?"

Emerging from the shadows of the thatched hut, Kutuyov's hand, gripping his cane, trembled: "Let me tell you what it means."

In the freezing cold, he spread his arms, letting his bearskin cloak slip off naturally, revealing his naked body.

He had almost no fat on his body, and the hard muscles under his skin were firmly bound to his bones.

But the most glaring thing was the scars all over his body, from his cheeks to his stomach, from his neck to his back, a dense web of knife scars.

He was like an old bear awakening from hibernation, emaciated and furious.

"This..." Alexei was a little confused.

Several hussars beside him, including Bagry himself, awkwardly stood up: "Teacher Kutuyov..."

"Go away!"

As the old man approached, Alexei's expression turned serious. He stood up and wiped the sweat from his palms with the corner of his shirt.

Wearing only a pair of trousers, Kutuyov trembled with every step he took, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

But he just stood there, walked on, without using a cane, and slowly made his way to Alexei.

"Your Excellency Kutuyov..."

Alexei was interrupted by the old man's angry roar before he could finish speaking: "Do you know where these wounds came from? From robbing merchants? From seeking beautiful women and delicious food?"

"Your Excellency Kutuyov, that's not what I meant..." Before Alexei could finish his hurried explanation, he was interrupted again.

"Who do you think you are? Accusing us of robbing merchants, do you think you're so virtuous and superior? Who gave you such a high and mighty right?"

"The Death Hussars were formed by your father. He brought us countless victories. He was a true king! He has the right to say these words!"

"And you? You bravely stormed the bandit camp all alone. What a heroic act! Do you think that makes you a king, someone who can make us bow down in worship?"

"A few coins, fine food and wine, sweet words and feigned concern—can loyalty be bought? If we need these things, why don't we take them from vampires instead of from you?"

"High salary? Food? Beautiful women? Lacunio offers ten times what you give!" "Nobody's a fool! You think you can win us over with just a few words, feigned magnanimity, and by befriending us? Hahahaha..."

Kutuyov burst into loud, ravenous laughter, silencing everyone in the room.

"Don't think about it!"

He slammed his hand on the table, causing the plates, cutlery, and other utensils to fall over.

"Do you think this is a chivalric romance novel? Are you a king returning to the throne?"

"Why do you think the cavalry would sing and dance with you? Why do you think everyone would come to eat that bear paw? We'd rather starve to death than surrender to vampires, why would we crave your bear paw?"

"We are bandits, we kill without hesitation, but we have no intention of harming you. In fact, we want to offer you our best!"

"There is only one reason: because you are His Highness Petrov's son."

In the end, Kutuyov was almost speaking through gritted teeth, his eyes wide open on his emaciated face.

"Do you know what I hate most? What I hate most is that you are the son of a true king, yet you have not inherited even a trace of a king's demeanor!"

As if to verify Kutuyov's words, Alexei subconsciously looked at the cavalrymen who had just been brothers.

They all lowered their heads when they met Alexei's gaze.

Realizing something, the blush on Alexei's ears spread all the way to his cheeks.

Kutuyov was already unsteady on his feet, and the hussar next to him, fearing he would fall, immediately handed him his cane.

But the old man took the cane and simply pointed it at Alexei, as if it were a sharp sword:
"If it were your father, he wouldn't care about someone coming alone."

He will only ask where we are, and then bring his entire army.

He would throw his saber in front of me and say, "Take it, and I'll lead you to victory, or you'll die!"
This is a true king. He instills in us the belief in victory, and he frees us from despair and fear!

Although I am old, I can still wield a saber. With the bear flag in front of me, what does it matter if I get a few more scars?
How many times has the Xiongbao people faced national subjugation and extinction, and how many times have they risen again?
If a monarch relies on gold, silver, beautiful women, and delicious food to lure people and buy their loyalty, what you can afford, your enemies can offer even more!
What you must give is something the enemy can never give—hope!

The old man's roar still echoed in the campfire, with sparks drifting on the tip.

Not knowing what to say, Alexei lowered his head, his face flushed.

The old man looked at him, his lips moved slightly, but in the end he still slammed the cane that was aimed at him onto the ground.

He took the cloak from the cavalryman beside him and put it on. Then he turned around and walked toward the tent at the other end of the thatched hut.

Halfway there, he suddenly turned around: "Do you think you can subdue us with just these things?"

"You do not deserve!"

…………

Alexei didn't know how he got out of the Death Hussars' camp. When he looked up, he saw a vast wilderness under the setting sun.

The red light dyed the grassland red, and cattle and sheep walked slowly.

"Your Highness, these Death Hussars are wild and untamed..."

“No, I was wrong,” Alexei sighed.

He was too naive. As the old man said, he was just imitating the behavior of a so-called "king," putting on the act of a lone hero.

But in the eyes of the elderly, this was incredibly childish!
A general of an army went to a bandit stronghold where it was difficult to distinguish friend from foe, and negotiated with the bandits to recruit them.

What if these bandits really are wild bandits? They'll cut off your head and sell it for money, but what will happen to your men?
What about responsibility?
They came, but instead of using gold, silver, titles, and generous salaries to win people's hearts, they resorted to even more despicable tactics.

Everyone knows where the Death Hussars' camp is. The area is so small, is the camp hard to find?

We should send the entire army forward. Those who submit will be treated like brothers, while those who do not will be slaughtered to avoid aiding the enemy or adding unexpected factors to the upcoming battle.

Negotiations? Forget about the ladies!
“I saw His Majesty the Holy Grandson pay his soldiers high salaries and thought that this was the secret to loyalty.”

But actually, that's not the case.

High salaries are certainly important, but they can't sustain a business on their own.

Training, equipment, officers, tactics... and one particularly important element is morale.

There are countless examples in history of people who, despite having everything they had, were defeated by weaker enemies due to low morale.

Not to mention examples of soldiers with higher salaries being defeated by soldiers with lower salaries, the most typical being the Order of the Knights and the Salvation Army.

Salary can only solve the problem of "why not fight," but it cannot solve the problem of "why fight."

Morale was a problem, even linked to issues of training and tactics, a subject that Alexei had neglected most at St. Tangier School.

Political Science Department.

When I get back, I'll have to go through my political science notes again.

Alexei secretly made up his mind.

"Your Highness, at least our biggest gain today is that they won't be siding with the vampires anytime soon," Groyev asked cautiously.

"No, the biggest takeaway today is that I learned a good lesson." Alexei suddenly roared at the grassland, startling several rabbits, before chuckling, "I was too impatient. Let's go back to the Cured Meat Castle."

"Those Death Hussars..."

"Without Giovanni the butcher, we'll still have to eat hairy pigs?" Alexei shrugged. "Let's tighten our defenses first and train a group of hussars ourselves."

Seeing that Alexei had recovered, everyone breathed a sigh of relief and continued forward.

They hadn't gone far when they heard the sound of rapid hoofbeats from behind.

Turning his head, he saw the bald hussar who had led the way at the beginning. He glanced at Alexei before speaking to Groyev: "He is the son of Grand Prince Petrov. We do not want to see the Grand Prince's bloodline die out, so I am informing you of some information we have gathered."

"Please speak." Upon learning that there was important news, Alexei straightened his back.

"Lacunio has mobilized a large force and is encircling you..."

"Impossible!" Before Alexei could speak, Groyev exclaimed, "Why haven't we received any news from you?"

“By the time you get news, they will have already completed the encirclement.” The bald cavalryman pulled on the reins. “They marched by boat during the day.”

"Such a large-scale mobilization couldn't possibly have been carried out without a word, could it?"

"They marched at the same time."

"A simultaneous advance? That's even more impossible. What vampire army is capable of that?"

The bald cavalryman rolled his eyes at him: "Do you still think the royal army is the same as before?"

"Wait a minute." Groyev grabbed the bald hussar's beard. "Aren't you all going to do anything?"

"What else can we do to preserve the bloodline of our Grand Prince Petrov?" The bald hussar glanced at Alexei, who seemed to still be in a daze. "Thirty thousand vampire main force troops, including blood knights, while you only have three thousand infantry."

"We're surrounded by open fields, without mountains like Thousand River Valley or fortified fortresses like those on Shattered Stone Plains. Even if we were to intervene, what could we possibly do?"

With a flick of his whip, the hussar charged off swiftly, as if afraid of being caught by Groyev again.

(End of this chapter)