The crescent moon hung like a hook, with its delicate light peering through the dense forest surrounding the cave, spying on the small village nestled within.
Tata Village was different from ordinary villages; it lay on the outskirts of the cave forest, with towering red pines and low houses arranged in an orderly fashion.
The gray-green steep rooftops blended seamlessly with the red pines, making Tata Village difficult to discern at night unless the lights were on.
Unlike its usual tranquility, tonight Tata Village was brightly lit.
Amidst the gathering torches and oil lamps, donkeys and horse-drawn carts were slowly being led forward by the crowd.
Drivers, people holding lambs, carrying boxes, balancing silk, or hoisting sacks—every step they took, a few shiny silver coins tumbled from their bundles and vanished into the underbrush.
Yet behind them, Tata Village faintly carried the stench of blood and corpses.
"Did you kill all the remaining people?" Grush widened his eyes, "Why? They helped us before, you..."
"Killed them, so be it." Feeding the horse some fodder, Defort replied nonchalantly, "What schemes they were plotting, do I not know?
If I hadn't decisively killed that Salvation Army monk at the time, they would have called in the Black Hat Army to kill us by now."
"How can you be so reckless?" Grush circled around to face Defort, "They helped us farm and sell goods; even if not meritorious, they toiled hard for us..."
"I didn't give them a chance?" Defort was irritated by Grush's pressing, and he forcefully threw the fodder into the trough.
"I asked them—do you want to follow me, or stay? They chose to stay themselves...so don't blame me!"
Grush fell silent for a moment, looking at the robust man before him, feeling a bit dazed.
When he was seven and captured by slave traders, Defort was still an honest and friendly young man, often taking them hunting.
When he returned at seventeen, he couldn't even recognize who this burly person was at first glance.
He still couldn't understand how the once honest and friendly Brother Defort had turned into the way he is now.
"Grush, I know you have feelings for them, but they are people from outside the forest. Only our old brothers from the cave are trustworthy."
"I stayed outside for ten years, I'm an outsider too now..." Grush said woodenly, looking at his friends and neighbors lying in pools of blood.
In those days when their fathers escaped the pitch-dark caves, it was these forest people who took them in.
But now, the once forest people had either become their slave cattle or were just like them—bandits and robbers.
"If you want to blame someone, blame the Salvation Army. If it weren't for them, why would we have to flee?" Defort pulled the reins, leading the warhorse out of the stable.
Running away was something those bandits were forced to do; their outposts were removed either by Cheka or the Black Hat Army.
If they didn't leave, the Black Hat Army would be right on their faces.
Eight posts, eight of them, yet only two people managed to escape back.
Thinking of that mysterious flute, a hint of dread appeared on Defort's face.
Taking a deep breath, casting aside the cluttered thoughts in his mind, Grush coldly asked, "What next?"
"I've already sent someone to Jinhe Town for aid; the Ibe Knights from the south are surely willing to help," Defort said through gritted teeth, "Since we've torn down the facade, let's play along with them.
Blackscar went out through the path to plunder, disturbing but not looting, to keep them on their toes.
We'll stay in the forest and caves to compete with them, see if they have the guts to crawl through the caves like us.
They don't have much food left; even if we can't beat them to death, we can starve them out.
Damn, we escaped from that cave twenty years ago, and now we have to flee back in again."
Defort glanced back at the bright moonlight, just you wait, I'll come back in the end!
......
"Legion Commander, what's inside that carriage covered with black cloth? It's moving like a snail."
"Just pull it, I asked His Eminence; it's a miraculous tool to be used later."
After sending away the inquiring brigade commander, Juer Dan raised his head, looking at the Black Hat Legion advancing on the El Ancient Path.
Following the marching formation prescribed by the "War Monk's Sacred Code-Officer Chapter," they advanced in five columns.
Two Holy Gun Masters in front, two in the rear, with six Long Spear Masters in the middle.
After the Battle of Joan of Arc Castle, the number of Blessed increased significantly, so the ratio of Holy Gunmen to Long Spearmen reached an astonishing 2:3 from the previous 1:4.
According to the calculations made by Horn, Jeska, and others, this proportion will continue for a long time before the bayonet is equipped.
On either side of the winding ancient road, apart from sparse shrubs, there are hills undulating like waves.
The relative heights of these hills do not exceed a hundred meters, and one can occasionally see exposed rock cliffs.
Between the moss-covered and lichen-strewn rock cliffs, the remaining hills are filled with lush red pines, chestnut trees, and white poplars.
Looking at the overcast sky, Juer Dan took out the pocket watch, the pointer already pointing to four-thirty.
This finely crafted pocket watch can only be produced by the lathes of the Mechanical Palace on Autumn Dusk Island.
So far, there are only over twenty, all allocated to officers and bishops at various levels.
"Alright, just a few hundred more steps to the encampment, keep pushing." Juer Dan shouted to the war monks behind him.
"An hour ago you said only a few hundred steps left…"
The war monks grumbled, yet hastened their steps, rushing to set up camp before darkness fell completely.
After half an hour of walking, they finally stopped, but they hadn't reached the encampment yet.
"What's going on?" Standing on horseback, Juer Dan gazed ahead.
It was not until the arrival of Mormul, the legion commander, that Juer Dan knew their path was blocked by giant logs and large rocks.
"Is it those bandits who placed them?" Juer Dan asked Mormul.
Mormul blinked, "It should be them who placed it; removing it will still take quite a bit of effort."
"Why not set up camp here first and move it tomorrow when the light is better? Otherwise, messing up the formation might lead to night battles, which would be disadvantageous for us." Juer Dan advised.
"I've sent people to search nearby and found no traces of bandits, they must've run away early." North Knight Leader Mira rode over at this moment.
"We've been walking all day, let's rest first."
The three officers reached a consensus, and the war monks started pitching tents right there and began chopping down the surrounding shrubs and small woods.
In the evening swaying night wind, tents and curls of cooking smoke rose in the forest clearing.
Scouts took their dry rations and canvas sleeping bags, dispersed, and set up hidden sentries around the camp.
Service soldiers in the food tent stirred the big pots, handed out sticky rice fruit porridge and salty fish to the war monks collecting their meal rations.
The Black Hat Army made meals by teams, each consisting of fifty people.
According to the current menu personally set by Horn, each war monk receives 3 pounds of staple food, 3 ounces of meat, and 1 ounce of vegetables daily.
During training, they have meat and vegetables along with stew and cabbage soup; when fighting outside, the meat and vegetables become salty fish and pickled vegetables.
But this level of eating meat every day can make those villagers at home drool and crave.
"Wuwuwu—"
No sooner had Juer Dan picked up the rice fruit porridge, when sharp horn sounds came from under the dark gray night clouds.
The war monks stopped their eating movements, stood up, and gazed toward that direction.
Juer Dan poured the rice fruit porridge back into the pot, discarded the wooden bowl, drew the arming sword from his waist, and ran toward the higher area of the camp.
Picking up the telescope, within the shadowy view, Juer Dan saw a scout standing on the slope.
He was blowing the horn while frantically waving the torch toward this side.
In the flickering of the torchlight, a battle horse leaped up, neighing, battle cries, and horn sounds intertwined.
A stout man on horseback shouted, leveraging the momentum of the war horse's charge, the curved saber in his hand sliced phantom-like toward the scout's neck.
The shiny blade slashed effortlessly, and a human head flew up, the gruesome neck stump spurted bright red blood.
The scout's headless body rolled down the hill alongside the charging stout man.
Behind the stout man, hundreds of bandits riding horses emitted eerie cries, crossing over the hill and the corpse, charging straight toward the camp.
"Why was the horn only blown when they're so close, what were the sentries on the perimeter doing?"
Although Juer Dan had a good temper, he couldn't help cursing upon seeing this scene.
"Quick, assemble!"
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