Chapter 183: Ecstacy Of Victory
On the steppe, only about 40,000 reaver cavalrymen remained, slowly heading north.
Agarth walked among his people, and from time to time he could hear the quiet sobbing of women.
This time, the Alkamite Tribe had been tasked with leading the siege. More than half of their tribe had gone to war and never returned.
"One more battle like this and the Alkamite Tribe will cease to exist."
That one sentence from Amon made Agarth finally decide: he would no longer send his tribesmen to fight the steel-armoured soldiers.
It was madness; there was no hope of victory.
Fern, too, had lost 6,000 of his elite Snow Wolf Guards after breaking through the gate. They never came back. After a long silence, he ordered a retreat.
Like Agarth, Fern also couldn’t see how many more lives it would take to capture Dunmere. Still, half his objective had been achieved.
The Alkamite Tribe under the Father had suffered devastating losses. To Fern, this meant one of his rivals’ arms had been cut off.
Even though Agarth eventually realised this, it no longer mattered.
A tribe with only five thousand cavalry was no longer important.
But to Fern, the most important part of this battle wasn’t the Alkamite Tribe or even the losses of his Snow Wolf Guards; it was the new weapon of the Eldorian Empire.
He needed to inform the Father that the Eldorian Empire had mastered cannon technology.
The moment the first cannon fired, he understood everything.
His Snow Wolf Guards, who had fought the Sapphires, stayed calm in the face of artillery only because they had seen it before.
Even the shield formation that protected him had been designed for those battles.
"How does the Eldorian Empire have cannons?" Fern kept asking himself.
The Order’s cavalry ruled the steppe; only the fortified cities and cannons of the Sapphires had ever stopped them.
Now that same threat had appeared again, in Dunmere.
"Fools! Why does no one ever believe me?" Fern cursed aloud.
He had led countless campaigns through the Outside Regions. He had seen firsthand what cannons could do to cavalry, and since then, he had long wanted to acquire such weapons.
After returning, he had suggested building cannons, but the Father mocked him harshly.
Everyone claimed he was just scared.
"The cavalry of the Order doesn’t need to hide behind walls and fire cannons."
After all, no one would be stupid enough to fight the Order on the open steppe.
Remembering all this, Fern clenched his fists.
This time, he would blame everything on the Alkamite and on the cannon.
"Brother, don’t blame me." A voice echoed in Fern’s mind.
"For the future of the Order, I won’t let someone who only knows how to play with women in his tent become the Father."
He looked back toward Dunmere. His eyes were sharp and cold.
One name burned into his memory: the twelfth Prince of the Eldorian Empire.
"Dunmere... I’ll be back."
Fern’s voice echoed across the empty steppe.
The Snow Wolf Guards let out a collective, powerful roar.
Agarth watched Fern’s back with cold eyes. His heart was bleeding.
He would go to the Fold and meet with the Order.
He wouldn’t sit still.
He would seek justice for his dead people.
In Dunmere, scouts soon brought back news that the reavers were retreating toward Snake Pass.
"The reavers have retreated! We’ve held Dunmere!"
This time, the shout came from Simon himself.
As soon as his voice rang out, the city wall erupted with deafening cheers.
"We won! We won!"
"We’re alive!"
"Mother, I’m still alive!"
The soldiers shouted, cried, and laughed. After ten days and ten nights of brutal battle, they had finally driven off the reavers and protected Dunmere.
They wept tears of joy.
Simon smiled.
The reavers’ retreat gave him a precious chance to breathe.
Even if they returned, it would take months to regroup.
And in that time, Dunmere’s walls would be armed with even more cannons.
Supplies would keep pouring in.
Next time, the reaver army would face an even fiercer barrage.
Dunmere would become a mountain they could never climb.
Benjamin laughed heartily.
Since joining the Brambleford Army, he had kept a stern face...
But now, he finally laughed with joy.
From disgraced official to commander fighting alongside Simon, he had slowly adapted to this new life.
He looked at Simon, cheering with the soldiers.
This was a man worth following.
"My Lord, I’m so happy..."
The always-tough Lancelot broke down crying.
The first time he cried was when they retook Dunmere, surrounded by the bodies of the Brambleford Army.
This time, he cried with joy, surrounded by the corpses of their enemies.
The Brambleford Army had also suffered heavy losses,
But most were wounded, not killed, thanks to the protection of their armour.
Even though the reavers lost this battle, Simon understood:
It was just a small wound for them.
Most of the dead were slave soldiers.
Only around 20,000 of the real reaver warriors had died.
Now he finally understood what Baldwin had once told him:
’The reavers can afford to lose again and again. But you can’t lose even once.’
Because Simon was fighting a vast empire... With only six cities at his back.
"Let them cry their hearts out," Simon said.
They had won.
The soldiers deserved to let loose.
Then he told Benjamin. "Gather all the wine and meat in the city. Tonight, let the soldiers eat and drink their fill!"
"Long live His Highness!" A soldier shouted. "We get meat!"
The others quickly joined in:
"Meat! Meat! Meat!"
Benjamin chuckled. "My Lord, you’ve just created a huge problem for me. Where am I supposed to find that much meat?"
"If we must, we’ll buy from the people," Simon said.
"These soldiers have put their lives on the line; don’t tell me we can’t even fulfil this simple wish."
Benjamin nodded. "I was waiting for you to say that."
Simon was slightly stunned. This old fox was just making sure he wouldn’t have to cover the costs himself.
The cheers continued, wave after wave. The sound of victory drowned out everything else.
Aiden’s eyes grew misty, but he stayed clear-headed.
"My Lord, we should send out the victory report."
By now, every official in Eldora was probably waiting for news from Dunmere.
Simon smirked.
Dunmere was safe. The royal bloodline had held firm.
Now, it was time to leave the rest of the political headaches to those distant vassal lords.
"How should we report it?" He asked.
"Dunmere’s great victory, of course!" Aiden replied.
"You led only 20,000 soldiers and killed 100,000 reavers."
"Wasn’t it only 20,000?" Simon asked.
Aiden rolled his eyes. "My Lord, now’s not the time to be honest. If this were Prince Ravencrest, he’d say he killed 300,000. Besides, slave soldiers still count as soldiers."
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