SCT-Novel Chapter 176.1: Negotiations
Chapter 176.1: Negotiations
Chapter 176.1: Negotiations
Lieutenant Wagner Pitt and Captain Kenn, who had both firsthand experienced the might of the undead legion, were well aware that victory for the undead was merely a matter of time.
No matter how ferocious the Radiant Sun Church knights were, and even if one single knight could match a hundred, they had their physical limits.Fôll0w current novÊls on n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(co/m)
With the endlessly reinforced undead slowly draining their strength, they would have no choice but to abandon their camp and retreat in defeat.
Yet, such a result was still insufficient.
Yang needed captives, while the undead required the weapons and equipment from the captives. Letting either side down would give Wagner and Kenn a massive headache.
Therefore, to achieve a significant victory and satisfy both Yang and his undead, Wagner and Kenn, as commanders, had no choice but to make some strategic moves.
Firstly, they gave the undead the mission of cutting off the Radiant Sun Church knight's retreat path.
Lizard horses could adapt to most terrains, traverse mountains, and cross waters. They were explosive, strong, and had great endurance, with their only drawback being the bulkiness that made them more cumbersome.
By having the undead scatter specially made caltrops around the Radiant Sun Church's camp, the knights would be unable to flee on horseback once they decided to abandon their position.
Next, they issued various "battlefield missions" to the undead that caused continuous harassment for the enemy and prevented the church knights from being able to rest peacefully.
Examples of these missions were tasks such as brazenly infiltrating the enemy camp to set off flares, destroying their food supplies, stealing their horses... and more.
Not all players loved direct confrontation, and completing battlefield missions was part of the fun for some. As Wagner and Kenn issued these missions, players who had grown bored after a few charges and started slacking off eagerly rushed toward the two of them.
Thanks to the basic "military training" in the monster battlefield, players approached their missions with commendable seriousness and determination.
The Radiant Sun Church knights forced to retreat to their own camp, along with the observers on the plateau, witnessed a bizarre and comedic, yet unsettling, spectacle of undead infiltration: In broad daylight and in full view, groups of undead, either in tens or twenties, boldly charged into the enemy's lair.
Even the Indahl spectators watching from afar with their binoculars were dumbfounded, much less the Radiant Sun Church knights, who had already retreated to their own camp.
Even more absurd was that these undead, who brazenly invaded the enemy's territory, seemed utterly indifferent to their "hosts'" feelings. Some randomly threw flares, others used their weapons to destroy supplies, and a few even boldly went to untie the lizard horses...
After eliminating this wave of seemingly crazy undead, the church knights were left utterly baffled, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
But before long, yet another group of undead charged into the camp with wild screams; driving the resting church knights to the brink of insanity as they were forced to chase these intruders all over the camp...
Concerns about being seen were non-existent for the undead. As long as they weren't promptly driven out or eliminated, it counted as a successful infiltration in their point of view.
Meanwhile, on the frontlines, the undead's harassment continued unabated. They tirelessly piled up bodies to exhaust the enemy while launching abduction raids every few minutes, dragging away a few unfortunate souls each time.
In the end, after a mere three hours of fierce combat and relentless harassment by the numerically superior undead, the Radiant Sun Church's knightly order, weary and beleaguered, had no choice but to raise the white flag...
Gould, the loyal Bartalis steward, wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead, temples, and chin with a handkerchief held in his shaking hands.
This knightly order of the Radiant Sun Church, whose military might undoubtedly surpassed that of the Bartalis's city guard, had lasted a mere three hours against the endless, inexhaustible undead horde!
Steward Gould felt the entire world darkening. He understood warfare and had personally fought in territorial wars for the Bartalis family in his youth.
The undead army's tactics lacked any sophistication. It was merely relentless harassment and abduction while ceaselessly assaulting the camp to deny the enemy any respite until their physical strength, morale, and will to fight were utterly depleted.
Such brute force tactics, combined with the horrifying ability of the undead to replenish their ranks indefinitely, proved nearly unbeatable!
Gould couldn't fathom how the city defense force could ever triumph against such a foe!
"The Third has to be informed of this immediately." Mustering his strength, Gould stood up, signaled his servants to pack up, and hastily departed from the hilltop, forgetting even to bid farewell to neighboring Darcy's steward.
As Gould left, other nobles who had come to watch began to make their exit as well.
Whether they were previously on good terms or at odds with the Bartalises, none departed with a cheerful demeanor...
After all, during the few months of Charlie Rex's occupation of Weisshem, these Indahl nobles had little respect for this illegitimate son. Coupled with rumors of Rex's associations with a black mage and the presence of undead in Weisshem, even the most diplomatic of nobles was loath to associate with him.
But now that Charlie Rex had flexed his military might and demonstrated the power of his undead army (bolstered by dark magic), these nobles, regardless of their disdain, were compelled to reconsider their diplomatic stance toward this bastard son.
Mrs. Griff, who had rented a carriage rather than impose on the baroness's hospitality, sensed the baroness's grave mood upon parting—a stark contrast to the expected delight over Marcus Baron's discomfiture.
Assisted by her housekeeper, Madam Wilde, Mrs. Griff descended the hill and boarded the rented carriage. Then, Mrs. Griff, seasoned in Indahl's social circles, had an epiphany.
"Indahl is going to change greatly," murmured Mrs. Griff, a middle-class wife whose husband's substantial salary earned them a modicum of acceptance among the higher echelons of society.
"Milady?" Mrs. Wilde, who had just settled into the carriage, didn't quite catch her mistress's murmuring.
"It's nothing," Mrs. Griff replied, attempting to sound composed despite her pallor betraying her inner turmoil.
Her husband's position in the city's board of trade might be affected if Indahl had a change in lords. That was a coveted position with an annual salary of 50 gold coins; losing it would mean relinquishing their lifestyle in the affluent Grantham district and parting with their servants.
"The Bartalises have held Indahl for years; surely they won't be easily usurped... Lord Adra III is well-connected with the nobility in the royal city. They wouldn't stand by idly," the bourgeois matron consoled herself.