When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 679: Stinky Foot Burger

This most classic riverside swamp in Black Snake Bay is essentially formed when a tributary of the Moen River failed to form a river channel and the river water diffused in depressions and mud pits.

This swamp is long and narrow, extending for about ten miles, with sand dunes, puddles and streams crisscrossing. The shallowest places are only up to the ankles, while the deepest places can trap a whole person.

Therefore, the soldiers of the noble coalition army who were marching among the reeds and water plants had to follow closely the footsteps of the people in front of them. If they stumbled, no one would come to rescue them.

Taskin was one of them. Although he was neither a knight nor a snakeman, as an auxiliary force, these mercenaries still had to follow him into battle.

Shoulders rubbed against shoulders, and all kinds of axes, spears, halberds and daggers collided with each other, making crisp clinking sounds along the way.

In the warmer Black Snake Bay in March, the only smell he could smell was the fermented odor of feet and sweat from his armpits.

Although there was no sun in the sky, the boat-shaped helmet on his head still made his scalp itchy and hot.

Although the weather was hot, they still wore burqas and even tied their cuffs and trouser legs with cloth strips, but they could not go shirtless like the locals.

The local Black Snake Bay people have been marinated in mosquito repellent oil since childhood, so they will not be chased by mosquitoes and flies the size of strawberries.

However, it was different for these foreign soldiers. Not to mention taking off their clothes, even if they drank a sip of water, bugs would come out of their skins at night.

If it weren't for the huge salary of 1 gold pound per month, Taskin would never have come to Black Snake Bay.

Even now, he regretted taking this business. Life here was really not a living thing.

"Beep, beep, beep--" The sharp whistle woke up Taskin, whose consciousness was gradually becoming blurred. He stood for a long time before he understood the order to stop eating.

"Where are we having dinner?"

"Just find a spot for yourself and don't expose yourself."

After listening to the team leader's speech, Taskin and others looked at the streams and puddles on the ground, and had to carefully explore the actual path and found a large rock.

More than a dozen people swarmed in and finally found a place to eat.

Putting his spear aside, Taskin took off his sunburned helmet and took out a cloth bag from his heavy backpack.

Spreading the cloth bag on his lap, Taskin first took out half a loaf of compacted wheat bread, which was more like a biscuit than a bread.

But even so, people around them looked at them with envy, because their staple food was dry chewed sweet beans, which were ground, steamed, and dried into flakes.

In Taskin's own words, eating this is like committing suicide by swallowing a razor blade.

As for making a fire and cooking, that was impossible because the Black Snake Bay was generally very humid. Once a fire was lit, smoke would billow and the enemy could see it from miles away.

Even the nobles did not have enough firewood to eat during the march, so how could they, the soldiers, get enough firewood?
He then took out a ball of rotten hummus and a piece of hairy salted fish tail that smelled of foot sweat, and spent another 2 dinars to buy half a bottle of rye beer. The meal began.

Tear off a piece of hard bread, break it into two pieces, add hummus, salted fish, wild vegetable leaves from the roadside and some salt from the nails in turn, and a delicious Laota burger is ready.

After swallowing two small burgers in succession, Taskin's hunger was relieved a lot. Looking at the few remaining salted fish and bread, he still resisted the urge to eat them all in one breath.

Just as the old mercenary who brought him into the business said, always save the last bite of food for yourself on the battlefield.

Although I don't know whether the veteran meant to eat a bite before the battle to replenish physical strength, or eat a bite after the battle to facilitate escape, or eat a bite before death to avoid starving to death, anyway, Taskin has always done so.

After packing up the food, Taskin stood up on the big rock and looked around while drinking rye beer.

This was not something he did out of boredom, but something he had to do.

They are not like the Wang Xian Knights, whose command and dispatch are so clear.

If you don't keep an eye on the movements of the main force, maybe everyone has left while they are still there.

This kind of thing was not uncommon. Whenever they set up camp on the march, there would be soldiers who had fallen behind and returned to the camp in the evening or even before setting off the next day.

Looking from the big rock, the narrow swamp between the river and the forest was crowded with Frankish soldiers holding flags of various colors.

If the Serpent Man servants were not counted, the elite mercenaries and knights participating in the battle numbered over 4,000, which was already a quarter of the total army strength, and almost half of the combat effectiveness.

As for pulling these main forces out for a decisive battle, based on Taskin's personal experience, it was a decision that was neither good nor bad.

Going out on an attack will result in the inability to concentrate troops, but it will allow you to seize the initiative on the battlefield. Although staying behind can only passively defend, it will also allow you to concentrate most of the troops for a defensive counterattack.

All we can say is that staying behind is more about concentration, while attacking is more about movement.

This nameless swamp is the only way from Sora Castle to the Temple of Avis by land. Because it is too difficult to travel, caravans usually take the water route.

But now, the port fleet of the noble coalition was taken away by the Duke of Portosa, while the Salvation Army was stuck in the river by sunken ships.

Even if there were several ships in the port of the Temple of Avis, they would not be enough to transport three hundred soldiers and would be useless. That was why Count Cazi thought of ambush here in advance.

"Woooooooo..."

"What's going on?" Standing on the big rock, Taskin shouted to the mercenaries in front.

Relying on the word of mouth of the mercenaries on the big rock, a message quickly spread throughout the reed field: "We have encountered the enemy ahead, and there are only six or seven companies of vanguard infantry. Count Kazi asked us to press forward quickly and eat up these two thousand people before the enemy's main force arrives."

Wow, they arrived a little too quickly. They haven’t even reached the designated location yet.

Almost at the same time, the knights shouted at the snake servants and their roars resounded throughout the swamp: "Fools, bring my armor here. If it gets wet, I'll chop off your heads."

Tuskin stood on tiptoe: "How far is it?"

Soon after, the human signal towers standing on the high ground sent back a message: "I don't know. It's invisible to the naked eye anyway."

Can't see with the naked eye? There's still some time. The old mercenary touched his chin and decided to go to the front to take a look.

If it is easy to fight, bring the news back; if it is difficult to fight, just wait and see.

Asking someone to keep an eye on the backpack, Taskin leaped out in one swift step, propped up by the spear stuck in the mud and jumped onto solid ground: "Let's go and take a look."

A dozen familiar mercenaries immediately surrounded him, pushed aside the reeds, grabbed the rope around a snake man's neck at random, and ran towards the mound at the edge of the swamp.

Since they were traveling light, with no armor and no heavy weapons, it only took the dozen or so mercenaries a quarter of an hour to reach the edge of the swamp.

The other young mercenaries were still breathing heavily, but Taskin's face was only slightly red.

He threw away his helmet, grabbed the trunk with both hands, nimbly climbed up a palm tree, and looked towards the north with his hands on the tree trunk.

As expected, several hundred knights could see dense figures behind the reeds and bushes about 2 miles away, but it was not yet clear whether there were any follow-up troops.

"How's it going? Tuskin, do you feel like you can fight?"

Standing under the palm tree, the other people looked up and asked Taskin on the tree.

"The army formation is quite neat, but they lack experience and are too scattered. We can charge..." As soon as Taskin finished speaking while riding on a tree branch, he heard a dull and strange sound.

"Tom—"

A whistling sound was heard in the air, and a column of water as high as a person rose inexplicably from a puddle in the distance.

"I'm super, magic..." Just as the mercenary "magician" below was about to speak, Taskin suddenly turned his head and looked at the river.

On the river, a catamaran barge was shaking violently. Could it be that the ship was causing trouble? But they were almost two miles away.

"Taskin, are you going to fight or not?"

While thinking, he saw a small black dot rising from the bow.

When another column of water jumped up from the swamp lake, Taskin's judgment system completely failed. After more than ten years of battlefield career, he was unable to make a decision at this moment.

(End of this chapter)