A beast-hide map was spread open on the table, its lines tracing the terrain of the Pedrona Hills. Stretching a hundred li along the border between Fulunduo Duchy and Fakel Duchy, the Pedrona Hills formed a vast expanse of dense pine forests, steep slopes, and countless streams, valleys, and cliffs.
After the
The most critical difficulty was that Fulunduo Duchy had stationed a mountain legion here. The soldiers of this legion were mostly drawn from the hillfolk who had lived among these mountains their whole lives. They moved up and down the slopes with astonishing speed, knew every inch of the terrain, excelled at setting traps, and possessed a fierce fighting spirit that feared no death. A thousand-man advance battalion of the White Lion Corps ran into an ambush by over four hundred soldiers from this mountain legion, and the resulting skirmish left the Second Prince and
In less than half an hour of fierce fighting, the White Lion Corps battalion suffered nearly seven hundred casualties, while the mountain legion's four hundred-odd soldiers lost fewer than half their number. Despite outnumbering the enemy more than two to one, the battle took place among the trees on a mountainside. The White Lion Corps soldiers, weighed down by heavy armor, were effectively helpless against mountain legion fighters who wore ragged leather armor, wielded short weapons, darted through the forest like the wind, and let out wild cries even as they fought.
They were simply too skilled at exploiting the terrain to their advantage. As one wounded centurion reported after being rescued: "You never know where they will appear — they might drop down from the trees above, or burst out of the bushes to catch you completely off guard. They will not face you head-on unless there is absolutely no escape. But that situation rarely comes about..."
"Several times we chased them into what seemed like a dead end, only for them to scramble up a tree or leap down a slope and vanish. We were far too slow to keep up. By the time you spot them, they are either already at your back or have finished striking their target, and all you can do is watch the backs of the enemies who wounded your comrades disappearing at full speed..."
The Second Prince had no choice but to cancel the plan to break through via the Pedrona Hills. No one could tolerate that kind of casualty ratio. The White Lion Legion comprised five corps plus a logistics and baggage camp, with a total establishment of fifty-six thousand men. Each corps held ten thousand troops organized into ten thousand-man battalions. Given that the earlier assault on the trench defenses had already cost roughly one corps in losses, throwing the entire White Lion Legion into the Pedrona Hills still might not suffice to break through. On open ground, the White Lion Legion could form up and attack — five mountain legions would be no match. But in the mountains, they truly had no answer to this mountain legion. There was nothing more to be done.
After the Second Prince's forces eventually captured Pedro City, the capital of Fulunduo Duchy, he learned that the mountain legion was still entrenched in the Pedrona Hills and had not retreated with the Grand Duke of Fulunduo to Handra Duchy. But the Second Prince had no desire to send troops against them. Let them stay in the mountains — if they dared come down, did they really think his cavalry would just stand by and do nothing?
Since the Second Prince was unconcerned about the mountain legion, Lorist saw no reason to go looking for trouble with them either. Besides, sending the Flying Tiger Legion — a cavalry formation — into the mountains to fight would be sheer madness. But just as Lorist was content to let sleeping dogs lie, the Flying Tiger Legion, while out clearing the noble estates, was repeatedly struck by raids from the mountain legion. The casualties were never significant, but having them buzz about like flies, gnawing at one's patience, was maddening nonetheless. It was only in late December, when the snowfall grew heavier and the Flying Tiger Legion had finished sweeping through the noble estates of Fabusia Province and relocated to Samora Province, that the mountain legion finally ceased its harassment attacks.
Lorist was truly furious. He had already been merciful enough by not going after them, yet instead of counting their blessings and staying put, they had come down from the mountains to raid his forces — the sheer audacity of it all. If he hadn't been preoccupied with relocating refugees, Lorist would have stormed straight up the mountain. Instead, he issued a secret order, directing Bodfanger and Malek — who had been idling at the border of the southern provinces — to lead three corps and, using the return-trip refugee sledges for concealment, slip quietly into Fabusia Province and set up a covert encampment at the abandoned refugee camps.
"During this period, I had Radi take the guard squad out under cover of the snowstorms to conduct a full reconnaissance of the entire Pedrona Hills mountain range. Fortunately it was winter — otherwise it would have been far too easy for the mountain legion to spot our movements. The enemy does have some cold-weather measures and can dispatch small squads in winter to carry out harassment raids against us. But their vigilance is low, and they're hardly eager to come down the mountain in winter..."
Lorist pointed to a circle drawn in red ink on the map and said: "Each time after they launch a harassment attack from the hills, we deliberately let our pursuit stop right at the edge of the Pedrona Hills, giving them the impression that we're unwilling to enter the mountains. In secret, Radi has been tracking their movements and has already pinpointed their encampment — right here, inside the circle I've drawn.
The mountain legion has thirty-five thousand men, and we estimate our target this time numbers over a hundred thousand in total. That is the main reason I called three corps of the Rock Legion over.
The two corps left behind by the Flying Tiger Legion will also join the operation. They will dismount and enter the mountains to seal off every external passage, preventing the enemy from escaping. Bog, you will take three corps with me to launch an assault on the Hot Spring Valley — we must capture every last one of them. You've already seen the specific arrangements and steps, so you know the plan. But what we need this time is not to wipe them out — we need prisoners. These sturdy mountain folk are all excellent laborers, and our family's territories still have a vast amount of development work that requires their services."
The Family Knights in the great tent all broke into knowing laughter. They knew their lord had his eyes set on these mountain folk once again.
Lorist chuckled a few times, then had Geronio spread out another map: "This is a detailed topographic map of the Hot Spring Valley. According to Radi and the others' reconnaissance, the eleven ridges surrounding the Hot Spring Valley have all been fitted with warning outposts and signal-fire piles by the mountain legion. To attack the Hot Spring Valley, we must first eliminate these eleven observation posts — otherwise, once they sound the alarm, the people in the valley will be forewarned and seal off the valley's three passages, making our assault far more troublesome and costly. However, these eleven observation posts will be handled by Radi and me along with the guard battalion. Bog, you will be responsible for attacking the Hot Spring Valley's three passages.
The Hot Spring Valley has sheer cliffs and steep slopes to the north, but the east, south, and west sides each have a passage leading outward. The valley itself is not entirely flat — there are some ten small hills inside, and the hot springs are located basically among these hills. Most of the mountain folk who winter here have built crude shelters around these hills. The Fulunduo Duchy's mountain legion maintains a well-developed camp on the eastern side of the valley. Fulunduo Duchy relies primarily on this mountain legion and the valley camp to maintain effective control over all the mountain folk of the Pedrona Hills. So if we're going to strike, we must rip out everything here by the roots — leave no future trouble. Understood?"
"Understood, Your Highness," the Family Knights and senior commanders in the great tent answered in unison.
...
"Shut the door, it's freezing!" Old Chek grumbled in discontent. Perhaps it was because of his age, but Old Chek grew increasingly cold-intolerant with each passing year. Whenever the weather turned cold and damp, the joints in his hands and feet would ache fiercely. It was probably a severe case of cold-induced arthritis. According to the apothecary of the Mountain Legion, the ailment was caused by excessive drinking and exposure to cold during Old Chek's younger years. The treatment was simple — all it took was ten gold Fordes to buy a bottle of medicine specifically for this condition, and three bottles would guarantee a full recovery.
"What a swindler!" Old Chek muttered under his breath. Were gold Fordes so easy to earn? He had sold his life to the Mountain Legion for the better part of decades, fighting tooth and nail. Now, past forty, his savings still didn't amount to twenty-three gold Fordes. If it weren't for the fact that he had ambushed and killed some
But now Old Chek faced a difficult choice. Once he accumulated thirty gold coins, should he buy medicine to treat his arthritis, or use the money as a bride price to marry Selina, that quiet widow? He wasn't getting any younger — past forty already — and his days drawing pay from the Mountain Legion were numbered. Last time, Selina had told him that with thirty gold Fordes, they could buy twenty acres of fine mountain farmland and build a home. Living off hunting and gathering herbs in these hilly highlands would be a wonderful life. He ought to settle down, start a family, have a few children, and live properly...
"Sigh, Old Chek, it's really cold up here. I just walked around a bit and my hands and feet are nearly frozen. I miss the hot springs down in the valley so much. Soaking in a hot spring in weather like this with a steaming pitcher of wheat beer — now that would be paradise..." The one who came in was Masocley. He and Old Chek were partners, manning the outermost mountain lookout point together.
"You think I don't want that?" Old Chek shot him a look. "But if you want gold Fordes, forget about comfort. If you hadn't racked up all those gambling debts, would you really be willing to huddle up here with me for the entire winter?"
That was the honest truth. It was precisely why Commander Norley had offered a two-gold-Forde bounty. Old Chek and Masocley had come to this windswept mountaintop to endure the freezing cold for the sake of that generous reward. Survive the winter, and the two gold Fordes would be theirs.
"Any movement outside?" Old Chek asked.
Masocley shook his head. "Same as always. One look out and it's nothing but white in every direction — stare too long and your eyes start to hurt. I circled the mountaintop, and the surrounding wilderness was dead silent. The only thing stirring was a serow foraging for food down below our cliff. Shame we can't get down there, or we'd have fresh meat soup tonight. I'm sick to death of this salted meat soup and black bread day after day."
Their cliff was the outermost lookout point of the Hot Spring Valley, and also the highest and most rugged. In winter, once the snow fell, forget about going up or down — the narrow path, barely wide enough for a person to walk sideways, was practically sealed off. The two of them could only tough out the winter in the crude wooden shelter built atop the cliff. Supplies were hauled up by rope lowered from the edge.
"Winter is the easier part to endure — it's the thaw and the rainy season that are the worst. Once the snow melts, we'll find out whether this wretched shack leaks. If it does, we'll need to patch it up right away, or you can forget about getting any sleep when the rains hit," Old Chek said with the air of someone speaking from experience.
"...what?!"
"Impossible, who could possibly climb up a cliff this high—" Old Chek hadn't even finished speaking when he heard a knock at the door. Then the shack's battered door was pushed open, and a figure stood in the doorway, cold wind blasting in from behind them...
"Surrender. I'll give you a chance." The figure, wrapped in a white scarf and draped in a white cloak, spoke with an air of calm indifference.
Old Chek's teeth were chattering — whether from fear or the cold, he couldn't tell. "H-how... how did you... get up... up here...?"
"How did I get up here?" The figure seemed genuinely puzzled by the question. "Isn't there a path? I just walked up."
Old Chek had recovered his composure by now. He tugged quietly at Masocley's sleeve and whispered, "Hold him off for a bit. I'll light the signal fire, then we'll deal with him together."
The signal fire pit was set up behind the shack, but there was a vent inside the shack that led directly to the beacon pile. Old Chek had already worked it out — as long as Masocley held the enemy at the door for even a moment, he could bend down, grab a burning stick from the fire brazier on the floor, push open the wooden shutter of the vent behind him, and toss the stick onto the signal beacon. The pile, already doused in oil, would ignite instantly, and the people down in the Hot Spring Valley would know the enemy had arrived...
Done quickly, it would take no more than a few blinks. The enemy, realizing his plan had failed, would either fly into a rage and try to kill them both, or panic and try to flee. Either way, as a sentry, Old Chek would have done his duty in short order. As for a fight, Old Chek wasn't afraid — he'd spent the better part of his life on the battlefield and was confident in his abilities. The opponent was just a pretty boy; nothing to fear...
"Now!" Old Chek bellowed. He bent down, snatched a burning stick from the brazier, and spun toward the wooden shutter behind him. In the corner of his eye, just before he turned, he caught sight of Masocley drawing his sword and charging at the figure in the doorway.
"Got it..." Old Chek's heart soared with triumph. He was just about to push open the shutter when he suddenly felt a chill pierce his chest. All the strength drained from his body, and he staggered, unable to stand, falling against the wooden wall. What happened? Old Chek looked down and saw a gleaming sword blade protruding from his chest.
"Mm..." Old Chek managed to turn around, only to see that Masocley, who had been standing just a moment ago, was already lying on the ground, alive or dead unknown, while the white-clad figure stood behind him, miming the act of drawing a sword while cursing: "Ungrateful wretch..."
His vision went black, and it felt as though a hole had torn open in his body, with air rushing out of him. Old Chek crumpled face-first to the ground. He was dead.
February 3, Year 1782 by the common calendar of the Galentea Continent — the Norton Family's armed forces launched a surprise raid on the hot-spring valley in the Pedrona Hills. The mountain legion of the Furlando Duchy was completely annihilated. The legion commander, Knight Naori, fought to the death and refused to surrender, falling beneath the sword of Bodfing, commander of the Norton Family's Bedrock Legion. Over ten thousand able-bodied hillfolk who insisted on resisting were subjected to a bloody massacre; the remaining fifty thousand were forced to lay down their arms and surrender, becoming captives of the Norton Family...
...Yan Ben Shi Dao wishes all fellow readers a happy New Year! In this festive season of reunion, may you celebrate the turning of the year together with your loved ones. Wishes for success in your careers, fulfilling love lives, harmonious families, good health for your relatives, and that all goes well. Also a quick question — after all these New Year blessings, anyone care to leave a tip?