Vikings: Lords of the Ice Sea

Chapter 117 Mountain Forest
Five people were injured or killed, and twenty were killed.

The shrike didn't offer much comment on this barely acceptable exchange ratio. "What is the enemy's equipment like? Are they wearing iron armor?"

"The leader was armored, and the others carried round shields and short swords. According to the prisoners' confessions, we expected to arrive at Lenark before sunset."

"Understood." The shrike signaled the messenger to return to the company headquarters and instructed the various units to shorten the distance between them.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, they crossed a hillside and could vaguely see the Piket settlement in the distance, as well as patches of farmland scattered nearby.

"About one hundred households, five hundred residents."

After estimating the number of people, Shrike ordered a rest on the spot. Suddenly, a series of crisp sounds of snapping branches came from his side. Just as he was about to raise his hand to warn them, dozens of Picts, brandishing short swords, rushed out of the bushes and headed straight for the open space where the camp headquarters was located.

Di~
In just a few seconds, the sounds of bugles, flutes, and whistles erupted in chaos as enemy attacks came from all directions. Only the two closest enemy formations reacted and rushed to the rescue of the battalion headquarters.

"Free Fire!"

Upon receiving the order, the thirty longbowmen directly under the battalion command shot down the foremost Picts, but this did not halt their advance. As the distance between the two sides closed, the longbowmen's vision was severely impaired, forcing them to cease firing.

Woohoo~
The Picts, howling, charged closer, and the Viking shield-axemen withstood their first slashes, sending splinters flying.

The next moment, two specially made pitchforks thrust out from the gaps in the shields, their intricate iron spikes ensnaring the short swords and forcing the four Picts back a few steps. The spearman seized the opportunity to thrust, the muffled thud of his spear piercing flesh mingling with Pictish screams. Startled grouse fluttered across the treetops, their vibrant feathers scattering like petals.

After observing for a while and seeing that its own situation was advantageous, the shrike secretly admired itself:
"Indeed, the Duke's formation is very suitable for small-scale conflicts. With the cooperation of the members of the Mandarin Duck Formation, they can often create an advantage of outnumbering the enemy in a local area. The enemy can block one spear, but they cannot dodge the second or the third."

Seeing the unwilling looks in the eyes of those indigo raiders, the shrike felt greatly pleased and asked the translator to convey its meaning:
"This is a new tactic, kid. I advise you to surrender as soon as possible. We are only targeting the lord and his cronies."

The battle lasted less than five minutes before the Picts fled in panic, while the shrikes rested against the tree trunks, waiting for the various tribes to tally their spoils.

Due to the relatively tight formation, the exchange ratio was quite good: 40 killed and 15 captured, with three of our side killed and six wounded.

After a half-hour rest, the team continued their journey and arrived in Lenark in the evening.

After two battles, the local lord's forces were almost wiped out, leaving only him and a dozen men holding out behind the gate. The Shrike gathered his armored soldiers and launched a surprise attack, easily capturing the settlement.

After spending a whole day counting the population and cultivated land, the Shrike left a team of fifty men to garrison Lenark, and then escorted the prisoners northward.

Upon learning of the Mandarin Duck Formation's initial victory, Vig was greatly pleased and ordered the supply officer to reward the mountain infantrymen who had returned from their hard-fought battle with ten barrels of beer.

Gazing at the fine, white foam on the surface of the wine glass, the shrike took a large gulp, let out a burp, and then asked, "My lord, where should we attack next?"

“No rush. Glasgow’s siege equipment is complete, and the general offensive is about to begin. Taking that settlement will give our army control of the Central Lowlands, achieving the first phase of our strategic objective. What follows will be a long period of bandit suppression.” Vig unfolded a map, pointed to the area where Lenark was located with a quill pen, and posed a question:
What do you think of that place?

"One who stays near vermilion gets stained red, and one who stays near ink gets stained black." Under the lord's influence, whenever the shrike arrives in a new region, it subconsciously observes the local production situation and calculates how much profit it can gain.

Based on his recollection, he casually replied, "I think it's alright. The scattered farmland adds up to about two thousand acres, plus some sloping land suitable for grazing. There's a creek outside the settlement, and after logging, the timber can float downstream to be sold for money."

After hearing this, Vig marked the plot of land in Lenark as "100 households, 2000 acres," then mounted his horse and headed to Glasgow.

Watching the Duke's departing figure, the shrike suddenly realized, could there be a hidden meaning in his question just now? Did the Duke intend to bestow the title of Lenark upon himself?

broken!

I should have known better than to let the soldiers run wild. Now I'm in big trouble. These idiots have messed things up, and the local residents probably hate me now.

The shrike's eyes gleamed as it snatched a packhorse and chased after the duke. "My lord," it said, "I have some minor misunderstandings with the locals. Please don't conscript me there."

Two days later, Glasgow.

Banners fluttered and spears stood like a forest. Four thousand soldiers lined up in formation in the open space east of the city, awaiting their commander's final orders.

After riding his gray horse around the front lines for a while, Vig, too lazy to persuade them to surrender, waved his left hand, signaling the start of the general offensive.

In the hills to the northeast, Stein led over three hundred raiders to watch the battle. They had originally planned to participate in the siege and grab more spoils. However, Vig disdained to pay attention to this little Karami, warning him to get out of the way and not get in his way.

Given the disparity in strength between the two sides, Stein wisely yielded, silently observing from the hills, watching the various types of equipment at play:

Small catapults, towers, shield carts, ladders, battering rams.
With their help, the Vikings stormed the city walls in the time it takes to eat a meal, engaging the defenders in fierce combat. Overwhelmed by their numbers and equipment, they captured the east gate, allowing a large army to pour inside.

Witnessing all this, a young man behind Stein stammered, "Boss, Glasgow has been breached just like that?"

Since the formation of the Archipelago Alliance, capturing Glasgow has been their primary objective. They've tried various methods, including night raids and disguising themselves as caravans, but all have failed. Now that the town has fallen into enemy hands, they feel not only resentment but also a deep sense of fear.

Once the walls were adorned with Viking flags, one of the leaders sighed and led his thirty-odd warriors westward in retreat. The other leaders followed suit, showing no courage whatsoever to offend this Viking army.

After conquering Glasgow, the shamans and their students inventoried the supplies. The resources there were far inferior to those of Wessex and West Frankish. The few valuable items—precious metals, woolens, and furs—were divided among the soldiers, leaving Vig with only some unwanted scrolls.

At the banquet, seeing everyone's joyful faces, Vig didn't spoil their fun. After waiting for a while, he raised his glass to thank everyone for their contributions, and amidst countless eager gazes, he took out a scroll and slowly began to read.

(End of this chapter)