Chapter 72: Battle Report
“Battle report—”
“An urgent message from the Third Legion has arrived—”
Suddenly, chaos erupted among the tents not far away. Someone shouted in the dim night, and knights nearby rushed toward the noise. A member of the clergy dismounted from his beast, holding a golden light in his hand; emerald stars radiated, dispersing the darkness as he melded into the crowd.
I was stunned, trying to process the earlier shouts. As I glanced over, I saw the knights supporting someone—a wobbly knight clad in silver armor, stained with dark bl**d, making his way through the crowd.
Who is that…? What happened…?
I think I just heard someone say… Third Legion…
The knight had on different armor styles and looked quite weak. Is he from the Third Legion!?
“Water! Quick, get some water!”
The knight supporting him shouted again, and I instinctively moved forward, unfastening my water pouch and rushing to hand it to the knight. Eagerly, I asked, “Is it… the Third Legion?”
Isaac strolled up right behind me, instantly shedding his goofiness and adopting a serious tone. “What happened?”
“It’s the Third Legion,” the supporting knight nodded soberly, his face grave.
He took the water pouch from me, let the injured knight sip a couple of times, then stopped, holding the pouch while hurrying towards the medical tent. “We found him patrolling in a mountain hollow. The vice captain, he’s out of it, but he carries a sealed message—a battle report from the Third Knights Order… It was supposed to be delivered to the Fessell Diocese…”
“Is he badly injured?”
“Not too bad; he just fainted from hunger. When we found him, he was collapsed on the roadside, and his Horned Horse has already run itself to d*ath…”
We hurried towards the medical tent, but the Third Legion knight stumbled suddenly, and the knights rushed to support him, nearly lifting him off the ground.
“Sir…”
Perhaps because he had taken some water, the knight seemed to regain some awareness. As he wobbled back to his feet, he suddenly spoke in a faint, raspy voice, “Help… rescue… Alectine…”
He was calling for help…
His weak words pierced my ears, and my heart sank.
“Don’t talk, hold on, take a deep breath… You’ve completed your mission, brave knight. Please stay awake; we are right here.” Isaac comforted him from one side, then turned to the knights nearby, “You, go inform the Pope… Who has that sealed letter?”
“I have it…”
Soon, they brought him to a medical tent in the east part of the camp. Several nuns checked him over, finding only minor injuries, with most wounds already healed by a divine miracle. Yet, he was too weak and appeared to be suffering from a bad case of malnutrition, quickly beginning to vomit once he lay down.
I stood and watched for a moment, exchanging glances with Isaac. His expression was serious, firmly clutching the battle report, and he hadn’t even opened it.
Members of the Third Knights Order…
“Shiny head.” I reached out to Isaac, palm up, “Let me see the battle report.”
Let’s not rush into panic… At least we’ve got some news now.
“Isaac, Miss Silvya.”
Just as Isaac was about to hand me the sealed letter, a deep voice called out from outside the tent, and I turned instinctively to see a cleric standing at the entrance, bowing to us. “Please follow me to meet the Pope.”
Oh…
Looks like another meeting is on the docket.
“Let’s go for now.” Isaac patted my shoulder; his hand was heavy, then stepped out first.
I understood, glancing back at the Third Knights member still vomiting, while a nun was mashing herbs, mixing them into porridge, preparing to feed him… looks like we can’t talk to him just yet.
Let’s go see Angel first…
I exhaled softly and followed Isaac out of the tent. The cleric led the way with a torch, back to the command tent. He again bowed and lifted the tent flap for us, closing it once we entered.
Inside the tent, the flickering light from the lantern revealed the silhouettes of several people at the table.
“…The grain harvest in the central Republic this year has been subpar compared to previous years. Two months ago, the national capital opened the granaries to relieve the starving residents of remote areas… but far water doesn’t put out near fire; banditry still runs rampant, making food transportation exceedingly difficult. The North has a somewhat better situation, but down South… Now there’s also the war with heretics. Holy Father, we can ensure that the First Knights Order has enough provisions—that’s a national effort in itself…”
At the table sat Angel, along with two other captains, a bishop, and a middle-aged man in ornate clothing with a cloak emblazoned with the Silgaya emblem.
The middle-aged man sat across from Angel, carefully making conversation. Upon hearing us enter, his voice trailed off as he turned to look, a puzzled expression on his face: “Who are these two lords…?”
Then he spotted the cloaks behind us, and his eyes lit up.
“Ah, I must be in the presence of the legendary ‘Fist of Judgment,’ Commander Isaac, and the hero who has saved countless lives in Silgaya, ‘Reaper of Frost,’ Miss Silvya…” He stood, thumped his chest with his right fist, and bowed deeply, offering a grand gesture. “I am but a humble envoy from the Emerald City of Nalanda. It is an immense honor to meet two great heroes of humanity today.”
The sincerity in the middle-aged man’s eyes caught me off guard.
“Reaper of Frost… what?”
Who’s this guy again…?
What ridiculous nickname are they giving me now?
“The Reaper of Frost.” He grinned kindly. “Perhaps you haven’t been to the Royal City in a while and aren’t aware of some minor incidents here… The title originally spread among the people, widely after the reports of your battle in the Royal City. Before long, it will spread across the entire Western Continent, even the Eastern Continent. It’s a title the people gave you, my heroic lady; Silgaya has never forgotten your kindness, and our respect for you is heartfelt.”
Uh…
I genuinely didn’t know…
Still, I curtsied to the man. “It’s… my honor.”
What…
Frosty Reaper… is that my title? Supposed to go viral across the West?
Feels so long, can’t keep track… and not even catchy…
A bit of awkwardness settled in my heart.
Why not something like Osmelure Cake, that sounds lovely and easy to remember… but Frosty Scythe…
The people of Silgaya really have strange tastes…
I shook my head, pushing those jumbled thoughts aside. This isn’t the time for such foolishness. Isaac and I approached the table, and Angel raised a hand, signaling for everyone to take a seat. He then tapped the table and asked, “Any news?”
“The patrolling knights found a member of the Third Knights Order. This battle report is from him.” Isaac produced the sealed letter, holding it up. “We haven’t read it yet, Holy Father. Should we read it here?”
He glanced at the middle-aged envoy.
“I’ll excuse myself…”
The envoy stood up quickly, but Angel waved his hand. “Not necessary. Just listen here.”
With that, the Holy Father turned to Isaac: “Read it.”
So Isaac opened the letter.
“The Holy Church’s Third Knights Order, Nick Williams writing… it’s in Commander Nick’s own hand.”
He read the text aloud with a gravelly voice. “Due to the disruption of supply routes, the battle at Mosley Coast has completely collapsed. The remaining five thousand knights of the Holy Church’s Third Knights Order retreated together with the Third, Ninth, and Sixteenth squads of the Sixth Knights Order to a hundred kilometers outside Alectine City, resuming a fierce battle against the wicked heretics in the Pawanxi Gorge. After two days of defeat, I write this letter on my way to retreat…”
As Isaac continued reading, his expression darkened. A tense silence filled the tent as everyone exchanged glances, each pair reflecting a complex emotion.
They lost…
Even though I expected it, when that news hit us suddenly, it was hard to accept. It was like being slapped in the face with undeniable shock, hidden beneath seemingly calm faces. Angel stopped tapping the table, unconsciously shifted his posture, leaning forward with arms crossed, resting his chin on his hands, his brow creasing deeper.
I sat beside him, able to hear my heart thumping loudly.
“Those demon worshippers are like a terrifying plague, sweeping through nearly all coastal villages, draining the life bl**d from villagers and livestock, leaving even birds trembling in their wake. They’re bloodthirsty and possess formidable infernal fire powers, capable of easily melting a knight’s armor. It’s confirmed that at least eighty percent are Second Phase followers, with ten of them having reached the Third Phase, nearly impossible to k*ll.”
“I never expected that the Gate of Truth, hidden in the Eastern Continent for twenty years, could grow this powerful. This will be a calamity for Silgaya and the entire Western Continent. Great deity, I have tens of thousands of people behind me in Alectine City. We cannot retreat any further; brave knights cannot retreat any further, and the Church cannot retreat any further either. Otherwise, the number of demons will only grow…”
“We will face off with the demons in a decisive battle in a few days in the wilderness outside Alectine City. Nick Williams is willing to d*e for glory, but the Church must win this victory. Yet now, the hope of victory is as scant as starlight in the night sky. In the last half month, the Third Knights Order has sent out six distress signals—each one has sunk into the sea, unheard…”
“This may be the last letter. I will no longer send anyone to relay this; instead, I’ll dispatch knights directly to the Emerald City, hoping that each lord in the Fessell Diocese, upon reading this letter, can promptly send aid to the battle in the South. Only if Holy Father permits the valiant First Knights Order to deploy can we perhaps have hope of winning…”
“I may have composed my final words this time. May the deity bless the citizens here… Sincerely, Nick Williams, primary heir of the Williams Family, Commander of the Holy Church’s Third Knights Order.”
Once Isaac finished reading, silence descended over the tent for a while, no one daring to speak.
