Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 401 - 45: Two Choices

Chapter 401 -45: Two Choices

It wasn’t the Herders’ light cavalry who caught up first, but Lieutenant Bard, responsible for rounding up the missing.

When Bard caught up with the main force with his riders, almost every rider had an extra person sitting behind them.

“Found more than twenty, couldn’t locate the rest in the pitch dark,” Bard reported to the Colonel.

But what the Colonel cared about was something else, “Any pursuers?”

“Didn’t see any.”

Colonel Jeska’s expression was grim, rubbing his stubbled chin, and it took him a while to make up his mind.

He commanded, “Tell everyone not to rest, we’re setting off right now.”

The supply train’s militia had lost thirty percent of its men, and the Colonel was forced to distribute the weapons of the deceased to the drivers and the merchants.

Those civilians who had never undergone military training were temporarily organized into a unit, commanded by Bard—because they only trusted Lieutenant Bard.

All the Dusacks fit to ride were handed over to the Colonel himself to command. Andre returned to his post as an infantry officer, responsible for leading Bard’s hundred-strong team.

The plan was to rest at a temporary camp for two hours, but in reality, there wasn’t even half an hour to spare. The wagons at the rear had not yet entered the camp when those inside were already having to set off again.

The militia, drivers, and merchants were full of complaints—and who could blame them?

The so-called pursuers were nowhere to be seen, yet the brutal one-eyed Colonel was forcing them to march, and right after a bloody battle, too.

Not only were the living exhausted, but the animals were also struggling.

Many drivers and merchants begged for a rest, as their beasts were about to collapse.

But the only answer they got was a refusal.

Winters occasionally saw dead mules and horses beside the road. While their owners were still in tears, others had already started transferring the cargo to other wagons.

The supplies of the supply train dared not be abandoned, and the merchants were reluctant to discard their goods. Although the pursuers might well be close behind, no one could be certain if they really existed.

As a result, the Paratu People wanted to flee but dared not fully let go. Thus they dragged their heavy cargo across the wilderness, evading an unseen enemy behind them.

The convoy maintained order only thanks to the Dusack sabers and the long-established authority of several officers.

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But even the Lieutenants were having doubts: considering Colonel Jeska’s interrogation methods, it wouldn’t be surprising if those Herders said anything.

“Remember that rabbit?” Bard asked.

“What rabbit?” Andre was puzzled.

Winters replied, “A rabbit that was beaten to the point it didn’t dare to claim it was a raccoon.”

After discussing, they decided to express their concerns to the Colonel.

Colonel Jeska turned a wagon into a temporary command post.

When Winters approached the Colonel, the latter was busy poring over a map.

“Sir, it’s too dangerous to move in the dark; several horses have stepped into rodent holes and broken their hooves,” Winters tentatively suggested. “Why don’t we wait until daylight to move? We could send more scouts to check behind us.”

“I’ve already sent them,” the Colonel said without lifting his head. “Rather than worrying about what’s behind, better think about not taking a wrong turn.”

“The forced march has caused too much damage to the mules and horses; the road ahead might not be easy to traverse.”

Colonel Jeska looked up at Winters, raising an eyebrow, “Do you also think I’m being paranoid?”

“I firmly obey your judgment.”

“Small unit harassment of supply lines is a typical Herder tactic,” the Colonel bent over and continued working on his map. “But think about it, how many days has it been since we last saw a messenger returning from the front?”

Winters felt a chill in an instant.

Supply lines were also communication lines; couriers traveling along the route would often encounter the supply train. Occasionally, they’d come to ask for water and exchange some news from the front and rear.

But in recent days, they had only seen messengers passing from behind and none coming from the front.

“In any case, returning to the river encampment is the safest option,” Colonel Jeska casually handed a roll of parchment to Winters. “I suspect the camps ahead have already been lost.”

Winters unfolded the parchment—it was a map, and he finally understood what the Colonel had been busy with.

The militia weren’t given much attention, and maps were only distributed to the level of squadron leaders; Centurions didn’t have them, so Colonel Jeska was making maps for his three Centurions.

The Colonel calmly said, “You guys don’t need to worry about consequences, I’ll take any responsibility. Just obey the orders with peace of mind.”

“Colonel, we’re the least worried,” Winters smiled. “The reason we’re telling you this is because we have doubts.”

“Are there any doubts now?”

“None anymore.”

“Then get out of here.”

“Yes, sir!” Winters saluted.

…

According to the map, there were about sixteen kilometers from the ambush site to the river encampment.

But those sixteen kilometers were only the distance on the map; due to the terrain’s ups and downs, the actual distance was far greater.

The convoy had already been marching for most of the day before they encountered the Herder cavalry.

After the life-or-death struggle, they had no time to catch their breath before turning around and heading back.

Colonel Jeska mercilessly drove the Paratu People to march at a fleeing pace, covering in one night what normally took two days.

The cost was thirty-three mules and horses injured or dead from exhaustion, seventeen wagons abandoned, and thirteen wagons lost along the way.

Throughout the bumpy journey, many of the severely wounded couldn’t hold on and died. Many more were injured in accidents during the night march.

Finally, as dawn broke on the horizon, the “Styx” slowly emerged from behind the hill’s silhouette.

The silver ribbon-like river snaked through the yellow-green plain, its undulating surface twinkling with countless golden lights.

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