Chapter 182: Not In A Hurry
At the city gate, the mountain of corpses silently told the story of what had happened.
Streams of blood flowed together, and the thick smell of blood mixed with the stench of death filled every corner of Dunmere City.
Even after the reaver troops retreated, the defenders dared not relax. No one could be sure if the retreat were real or just another trap.
The city gate had been blasted open by reaver explosives, and the damage was severe.
Aiden immediately organised slaves to begin repairs. Meanwhile, other soldiers stacked the corpses of reaver soldiers to block the gap in the gate.
"This one’s still alive!"
A voice would occasionally shout, followed by the final scream of a dying enemy.
After ten days and nights of brutal fighting, the Brambleford Army had become calm and composed. When they saw reaver soldiers, there was no fear, only the steady swing of their blades.
No prisoners. That was Simon’s order.
The reavers had long used terror tactics, slaughtering cities and killing captives to frighten the Eldorian Empire.
Now, Simon would repay them in kind. He would show them he was a wolf, one a hundred times more savage than any reaver.
"My Lord, these grape shot rounds are amazing. That one blast must have killed forty to fifty reaver cavalry!" Liam said, gently stroking the metal canister as if it were a precious treasure.
Simon, finally calming down after the bloodbath, nodded. "Grape shot is made to counter dense cavalry charges. We were lucky, the cavalry came charging through the city gate in tight formation, so the shot hit them at the perfect moment."
Lancelot was itching with excitement. "My Lord, let me try firing one! I want to see this grape shot in action!"
But when he came down from the wall and saw the massive pile of bodies at the gate, even he was shocked.
The sight was overwhelming. No wonder the reavers had retreated; who wouldn’t be terrified by this?
"No way!" Liam snapped, guarding the ammo like a mother hen. "We only have 300 grape shot rounds left. What if they come back? You can’t just fire one for fun."
Lancelot scowled. "Liam, you looking for a beating? You think you own the artillery now? Don’t forget, you’re not even from around here. The artillery belongs to the Brambleford Army and...!"
Before he could finish, Benjamin smacked him across the backside with a whip. Lancelot yelped and jumped.
When he saw Benjamin’s dark expression, he realised he’d just insulted another outsider. And Benjamin was one too.
He laughed awkwardly. "Commander! I, uh, I’ll go check on the wall defences!" And he ran off.
Liam grinned smugly.
But Benjamin said. "Don’t get too proud, Liam. Lancelot wasn’t entirely wrong. This artillery belongs to the Brambleford Army. Once the war ends, you’re going back to Eldora."
Liam’s smile faded. He looked at the silver-armoured soldiers cleaning the battlefield. He touched the cannon before him, suddenly reluctant to leave it.
After all, he was technically an imperial guard commander, loyal to Alaric, not Prince Simon.
There was still a difference between a sovereign and a prince.
Simon noticed his expression and said softly. "Liam, I won’t forget you."
"My Lord... Commander... I..." Liam looked conflicted. Clearly, they were pushing him to make a choice.
Simon and Benjamin exchanged a glance and laughed.
There was no denying Liam had talent in commanding artillery. After this war, he had grown even more skilled in using cannons strategically.
Losing him would be a shame, but they couldn’t force him to stay.
The choice had to be his.
This battle had also changed Benjamin’s outlook on fighting the reavers.
"My Lord," Benjamin said. "Now that we have artillery, Aiden’s fortress-advance strategy actually sounds brilliant."
"Thank you, General," Aiden said, approaching in armour, streaked with blood.
In a moment of crisis, even this scholarly civil officer had picked up a sword.
Benjamin laughed and clapped him on the back. It was his way of showing respect.
In the Eldorian Empire, civil and military officers rarely got along. Benjamin had always looked down on strategists like Aiden.
But after fighting side by side, his view had changed.
These scholars might be readers, but now, they were soldiers too.
"This plan won’t be completed overnight," Simon said. "But it has to start now. If the reavers truly retreat, begin building fortresses across the steppe using slave labour, layer by layer, push outward."
Even with the retreat, Simon had no intention of chasing the reavers into open field battles. Their cavalry was still too fast, and he had no way to counter it yet.
Plus, the Brambleford Army had suffered heavy losses. It would take a long time to recover.
Just like Aiden had said, their current strengths were cannons and walls.
Use your strengths to strike the enemy’s weaknesses. That was the wisest move.
While the reavers were gone, the commanders continued planning.
But no one knew if the retreat was real.
In war, it was common to fake a withdrawal to lure the enemy into a trap. So as night fell, the defenders of Dunmere remained on full alert.
Only when dawn came and no reavers appeared did the soldiers finally breathe a little easier.
"My Lord, it looks like they really pulled back," Lancelot reported, excited. "We counted the bodies, yesterday’s attack cost them over 20,000 men. A lot of them were Fern’s elite Snow Wolf Guards. The leaders are always fighting among themselves. Fern probably didn’t want to lose all his best troops here. He still doesn’t know how many more it would take, actually, to break Dunmere."
Lancelot was clearly the happiest of them all.
Outside the city, many of the reaver warhorses had refused to leave, still loyal to their fallen riders.
Lancelot had rounded them up.
One thousand warhorses. That was enough to form another thousand-man cavalry unit, bringing the Brambleford Army’s total cavalry to two thousand.
Benjamin nodded slowly. "My Lord, I think so too. I’ve already sent scouts to confirm."
Simon nodded in return.
Outside the city, soldiers were cleaning the battlefield. They piled up the bodies of slave and reaver soldiers and burned them with firewood.
They collected fallen crossbow bolts and weapons from dead soldiers.
Other soldiers were busy retrieving cannonballs from the ground, precious resources that could still be reused.
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