Chapter Thirty-Four: Countering the Enemy's Plans

  The Duke of Saxony grasped the hilt of his sword at his waist, gazing intently at the camp of the Duke of Meissen for a long time. His eyebrows were furrowed as if he was pondering some question. The Countess of Wulshfield stood guard behind him, seemingly casual but with her hand resting on the hilt of her own sword at her waist. Although this was a mixed camp, it was after all the closest place to the Duke of Meissen's camp, and the Countess did not dare to be careless. After a long time, the Duke of Saxony suddenly relaxed his eyebrows, as if he had figured something out.

  "We're leaving." The Duke of Saxony turned and walked out of the camp, which was filled with prostitutes, his chain mail clanking as he moved. The Countess of Woolshire followed closely behind him, her eyes scanning the surroundings from time to time, but at this moment, the soldiers of the Duke of Meissen in the camp were all drunk and unconscious, making shameful sounds of men and women loving each other in some dilapidated tents.

  "Your Grace, shall I have some of the Duke of Meissen's men seized and interrogated?" The Countess of Woolshire stepped up to the side of the Duke of Saxony, her voice low as she suggested that it would be easy to seize a few of the Duke of Meissen's soldiers in this not-so-secure camp, but these lower-ranking soldiers were hardly worth questioning.

  "No need, let's go back." The Duke of Saxony shook his head, not wanting to stir up trouble. They carefully avoided the soldiers who were lying drunk on the ground and made their way towards the woods outside the camp. In the darkness, where one couldn't see one's hand in front of one's face, several attendants were hiding with the horses. The Duke of Saxony grabbed the reins of his horse and stepped on an attendant's hand to mount it. He spurred the horse's belly with his heel and rode towards his own camp, followed closely by Countess Wulshiefeld and the others.

  "Duke, what's going on? Why have you left the camp?"

  The Count of Belengar, clad in chain mail and with a sword at his waist, had his squire hold his helmet and torches. He saw the Duke of Saxony and the Countess of Woolshire riding towards him at full gallop and hurried forward to ask them.

  "Count Berengar, take a thousand men and go to Creve at once." The Duke of Saxony rode up on horseback, saying nothing more, and gave the order to Count Berengar, which left him bewildered.

  "Why did the Duke suddenly send me to Creville?" asked Count Belengar, looking at Countess Woolshifeld as if also asking her.

  "Don't ask so many questions, it may already be too late. Count von Berengar, take your men and defend Creve. I'll lead another thousand with the Countess of Woolshire to Brunswick." The Duke of Saxony gave the order in a tone that brooked no questioning, leaving Count Berengar bewildered by the sudden division of forces.

  "What about this place? What to do with it? Leaving only a thousand people, how can we resist the 5,000 cavalry of Duke Mason?" Count Belengar hurriedly asked. He thought that Duke Saxony was going to give up here, but he also knew that once Duke Saxony made up his mind, there would be no room for maneuvering, so he could only ask his last question.

  "Let the thousand men-at-arms here be led by Count Ulrich, just for defense there should be no problem, he is a cautious man. However, tell him that if the soldiers of Duke Mason launch a small-scale attack, they can go to meet them. If the enemy launches a general offensive, let him lead the soldiers to retreat to the castle." After making the final arrangement, the Duke of Saxony turned his horse's head towards Brunswick and left, while Countess Wulshifeld hastily waved her hand, and a thousand-man cavalry and infantry team quickly formed up and followed their lord out.

  "What's going on, Your Excellency?" Count Berengar wondered, shaking his head in puzzlement. However, he resolutely carried out the duke's orders, as it was a clear command. Instantly, the large army was divided into three parts. Except for the 1,000 men left behind to guard, the other two troops advanced in different directions. They carried little food and luggage, setting out lightly, because these two territories were fiefs of the Duke of Saxony. As locals, they could easily obtain supplies. But the Duke of Meissen was completely unaware of this change and still had his main camp by the brook, waiting for his own troops to ambush the enemy.

  The judgment of the Duke of Saxony was quite correct, for at this time, due to its proximity to Brunswick territory, Count Lausitz's army first invaded Brunswick territory. The knights and soldiers of Brunswick were summoned by the Duke of Saxony, leaving the territory defenseless and empty. Except for a few cities with high walls and closed gates, the rural areas outside the city were looted by Count Lausitz's army. Even if some country squires hastily formed troops to try to stop them, they were defeated and dispersed by Count Lausitz.

  "What a bore, this battle is pointless." A knight in leather armor sat on a corpse, the body was young and strong, but blood flowed from its slumped form. The face had two bloody holes where the eyes used to be. The knight yawned, looking utterly bored, with a long sword stained with blood beside him, his slender fingers also smeared with blood.

  "Ogden, hurry up and clean up the battlefield, we still have a long way to go." Grover, with a pig face, was helpless against his younger brother's bad taste, thinking why couldn't he be as straightforward and efficient as Patsy in taking down their opponents? The notorious reputation of the three wild boar brothers was mostly due to this perverted younger brother.

  "Pachi~~." The gigantic Pachi stood quietly behind Groover, his right hand grasping a wolf-toothed club with many pieces of fresh meat hanging from it. Around the three brothers were scattered many corpses with their heads split open like flowers, all of them farmers holding farm tools, killed by Pachi's wolf-toothed club in one swing.

  "Woe to you, demons! The Duke of Saxony will not forgive you!" At Grover's feet lay a middle-aged squire with his legs cut off, blood foam flowing from his mouth, and his legs bleeding non-stop. His eyes were wide open in anger as he stared at the three wild boar brothers, for he saw his own son being pressed under Ogden's buttocks, who was the most outstanding swordsman in his family, but was killed in just one round. What's more, Ogern was playing with his son's eyeballs on his fingertips, which was simply the devil's behavior in the Bible.

  "Hahaha, you old fool, your duke in G?ttingen is currently facing off against the Duke of Meissen and doesn't have time to bother with you." Ogden carelessly tossed aside the pair of eyeballs he had been playing with, a brown pair that he didn't find particularly attractive, not as beautiful as those of the young servant boy he had seen last time. Unfortunately, if it weren't for the interference of the Duke of Meissen's heir, he would have succeeded.

  "That's enough, Ogden, finish him off quickly, I have an appointment with Count Lauteritz." Grover was indifferent to these insignificant country squires, he turned around and ordered his soldiers to plunder the not-so-rich village, but there were not many supplies that could be collected in the village, which made him a bit depressed. However, his clever subordinates managed to catch several young women for him, which improved his mood somewhat. He was eager to meet Count Lauteritz as soon as possible so that he could quickly find a few more villages to plunder.

  As the sound of a sword cutting through flesh and throat, the coughing sound from the broken trachea, and the hissing sound of air leaking out, the surviving villagers and countrymen were also killed by Ogden. The three wild boar brothers, who had enjoyed the pleasure of slaughtering the village people, finally left the burned-out village with their carts loaded with loot, leaving behind a peaceful village that had become a purgatory on earth.

  "Count, are our troops scattered a bit too much?" A knight of the Imperial Guard of Count Lautrec asked with some concern as he looked at the village that had been burned to ashes.

  "It doesn't matter, the Duke of Saxony's troops are all in G?ttingen." Count Lauzitz calculated in his heart how much benefit he could gain from this expedition, and at this speed of plundering, he could make up for the losses suffered during the expedition and still have a surplus.

  "But Duke Mason requests us to join Sir Eber as soon as possible. Is this pace a bit slow?"

  "What's the hurry? Eber will have to go around the Duke of Lower Lorraine's lands, it won't be so quick." Count Lauwitz mentioned Sir Eber and he felt a surge of anger, remembering that handsome face made his heart uncomfortable.

  "I merely fear that Sir Ebril will steal a march on us." the Knight of the Inner Temple reminded his sovereign.

  "Ah, that." Count Lausitz was reminded by his trusted aide that if Sir Eber were to reach the back of the Duke of Saxony first and launch a surprise attack with the help of Duke Meissen, both from inside and outside, the honor of defeating the Duke of Saxony would fall to Sir Eber alone, which he could not allow.

  "Hmm, hmm, hmm, Count Lauderdale, I've discovered another village not far from here. Please allow us to go and investigate." Just then, Grover excitedly reported to Count Lauderdale, completely unaware of the count's somewhat unusual expression.

  "You fool, who told you to waste time? Quickly gather your troops, we're starting our march!" Count Lauteritz raised the whip in his hand and struck Grover's face with a loud crack, scolding him angrily.

  "Hmm, ah." Grover covered his face, let out a miserable cry, completely unaware of what he had done to offend the Earl, but not daring to resist Count Lautrec, hastily dodged to one side, even if it was resentment that could only be deeply buried in his heart.