Knight: Becoming King of the World

Chapter 122: Chapter 102: A Gift of 888 Heads

Of course he wouldn’t let him go! What kind of person was Henry? He was the type to use hailstones to chill his drinks!

He raised his long-handled Yanyue Saber and charged straight at the Karakujit elder.

The elder struggled to compose himself, raising his Yanyue Saber in an attempt to block, but his earlier confidence had already vanished.

Henry’s long-handled Yanyue Saber whistled through the air as it smashed violently against the shaft of the elder’s weapon. The immense impact sent a numbing jolt through the elder’s arm, and he nearly lost his grip on his Yanyue Saber.

He barely managed to steady himself, and his warhorse let out a pained whinny. A glance from the Karakujit elder revealed that the shaft of his Yanyue Saber had actually been gashed open!

Seeing this, Bain immediately seized the opportunity. He spurred his horse forward and charged the elder again, aiming the Riding Spear in his hand at the Karakujit’s chest.

Assailed from both sides, the Karakujit elder was in a dire situation.

Henry didn’t let up. He kept his horse close to the Karakujit elder, slashing again and again. The elder blocked with all his might, but with every clash, he could feel his strength rapidly draining away.

Finally, one of Henry’s heavy blows sent the elder’s Yanyue Saber flying from his grasp, landing several meters away.

Terrified, the elder’s warhorse reared up, throwing him from its back.

Henry gave the elder no chance to recover. He leaped from his horse, the tip of his long-handled Yanyue Saber at the elder’s throat.

The elder closed his eyes in despair, awaiting fate’s judgment.

When the Karakujit riders saw their elder beheaded, their morale completely shattered, and they began to scatter and flee.

Led by Bain and the reinforcing grassland riders, the Grassland Warriors gave chase, shooting down the enemy.

The Karakujit soldiers either surrendered or scattered, their morale utterly broken.

Henry stood on the battlefield, surrounded by a scene of chaos. He took a deep breath, feeling the lingering intensity of the battle.

"Bain, take some men and start collecting the spoils."

"Yes, my lord."

The soldiers immediately got to work, collecting the armor and weapons scattered across the battlefield.

Though stained with blood, the equipment could be used again after being cleaned and repaired.

The soldiers began to take stock of the horses. Many warhorses had been injured in the battle, but after examination and treatment, they could recover and return to service. The horses were led aside to be cared for by designated soldiers.

Henry returned to the ambush site in the hills, watching as his soldiers stripped the Chain Armor, Cloth Armor, and helmets from the corpses, collecting them one by one and stacking them in neat piles.

In addition to the armor and weapons, the Record Keepers who had remained at the camp were now taking inventory of the vast quantities of food and supplies.

This included grain, meat, dried fruit, and other provisions—all indispensable resources for an army on the march. The soldiers carefully sorted and packed these supplies, preparing to transport them back to camp.

Henry nodded in satisfaction, thankful for the "gift" from the three Mercenary companies.

Additionally, many carts and tents had been left on the battlefield. Such equipment was extremely useful for an army on the move, providing both shelter and transport.

These supplies would allow Henry’s army to operate in the field for another one to two months.

Under Claude’s command, the soldiers carried out the cleanup in an orderly fashion.

As the sun climbed higher, the cleanup of the battlefield neared its end. The soldiers loaded the spoils of war onto the carts and headed back to camp.

Henry was having breakfast; he planned to get a good sleep soon. After eating his fill, he let out a loud belch, patted his stomach contentedly, and leaned back on his stool.

Claude strode into the tent, the soles of his boots stained with blood. "My lord," he said wearily, "the casualties, prisoners, and spoils have been tallied."

Henry took the sheet of paper, scanned it quickly, and couldn’t help but laugh.

Chain Armor: 194 suits, some with minor damage, but all repairable. Iron Armor: 57 suits, four of which are severely damaged and will require a craftsman.

Cloth Armor, Cotton Armor, and other Armored Clothing: over 600 pieces, most in perfect condition, suitable for quickly equipping new recruits.

Helmets (iron and leather): over 700, some in need of repair. Long Swords, sabers, bows, arrows, shields, etc.: over 2,000 usable items in total.

Horses captured: over 200. Forty-one have minor injuries and need to recuperate; the rest are uninjured and can be put to use immediately.

Transport carts: over 400. Wheat flour: ~1,000 kilograms. Rice: ~1,000 kilograms. Pearl rice flour: ~2,000 kilograms.

Smoked meat: over 100 kilograms. Cured meats and dried fruit: small quantities. Vegetables: ~700 kilograms. Various herbs and medical supplies for use by the Medical Master: 100 kilograms total.

Field tents: over 170, most in good condition and suitable for rapid camp setup. Shovels, axes, ropes, etc.: approximately 300 items in total.

The Mercenary companies hadn’t been carrying much; otherwise, Henry could have looted even more.

"Not bad. With all this, we can continue our advance."

Claude’s eyes shifted. "My lord," he asked, "are we to continue advancing toward Count John’s fiefdom?"

"Of course. Why wouldn’t we?"

Claude swallowed and changed the subject. "My lord, what should be done with the three hundred-odd prisoners we’ve taken? There are also more than ten officers. Oh, and the leader of the Green Forest Brotherhood."

Henry rubbed his increasingly heavy eyelids. "Bind their hands and chain them together. Have two squads of Grassland Warriors escort them back to the mines. Tell Tommy to organize ten self-employed farmers and twenty tenant farmers. Give them some weapons and have them act as overseers.

"When the two squads of Grassland Warriors return, have them bring two hundred serfs with them.

"As for their leader... execute him."

Capturing so many supplies had, ironically, become a burden. He would need more serfs to act as logistics personnel and manage the carts.

Claude nodded and was about to leave when Henry called him back.

"Cut off the enemies’ heads. Pick out the most intact ones until you have eight hundred eighty-eight, then pile them up."

Claude didn’t object. Such acts weren’t unheard of, especially when dealing with Mercenaries. Most nobles despised them, seeing them as a traveling plague.

As for why it had to be eight hundred eighty-eight heads, Claude had no idea. But since Henry had given the order, his job was simply to see it done.

Claude walked out of the tent, a subtle weariness on his face. He took a deep breath of the morning air, quickly gathered his thoughts, and began to issue orders.

"By order of the lord! Bind all the prisoners’ hands and rope them together!"

The Senior Infantry moved at once, binding the prisoners, who had already been stripped of their armor, and linking them together in a line with a thick rope.

The prisoners’ eyes were filled with fear and uncertainty, but none dared to make a sound of protest.

"Bain, assign two squads of Grassland Warriors to escort the prisoners. Take them to the mining district and hand them over to Tommy. Tell him... he’ll arrange for men to supervise their work. On their way back, have them bring two hundred serfs."

Bain nodded and selected two squads of Grassland Warriors for the task.

"As for the leader of the Green Forest Brotherhood, by the lord’s order, he is to be executed. Take his head."

The words had barely been spoken when a Skilled Infantry Officer raised his weapon and walked toward the leader of the Green Forest Brotherhood.

"Don’t kill me! My family can pay a ransom—"

SHLICK!

The Skilled Infantryman’s blade swung down, and a fine head rolled onto the ground.

After dealing with these matters, Claude returned to the tent. He saw Henry was already lying on the bed, his breathing even. He was clearly fast asleep.

Claude smiled and shook his head, then quietly exited the tent to let Henry rest in peace.

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the tent, casting a golden glow upon Henry’s face.

Claude stood outside the tent, gazing at the distant horizon. He offered a silent prayer to the sun, ’May this war end soon, so that everyone can return to a life of peace.’

Lying on the bed, Henry soon began to toss and turn, curling into a ball.

’Hm? How am I awake?’

Henry "opened his eyes" to a blurry scene. As his consciousness sharpened, he realized he seemed to be floating, able to move about freely.

He looked down and saw his own body lying peacefully on the bed, breathing evenly, a contented smile on its face.

Henry was surprised but quickly accepted this bizarre state of being.

He "walked" out of the tent. The glaring sun didn’t harm him. Soldiers were hard at work, digging pits to bury the dead.

Their movements were somewhat mechanical, their faces etched with exhaustion, but each one silently carried on with their duty.

Henry could feel their fatigue; they longed to finish this grim task and get some rest.

Henry moved in front of a soldier and waved his hand, confirming he was invisible.

Next, Henry’s soul drifted toward the area where the Record Keepers were. They were busy sorting and arranging the spoils, pinching their arms to stay awake as they worked.

Their eyes showed their intense focus on the numbers. Despite their exhaustion, they had to be accurate. After all, losing your job was a small matter; losing your head was a much bigger one.

Henry continued to drift until he reached the Warriors who were piling up the heads.

The faces of these Warriors were expressionless. They showed no fear of the heads as they stacked them neatly, one by one.

Suddenly, Henry felt a powerful sense of foreboding. His gaze shifted to the sky, where a dark power seemed to be stirring.

He saw a blurry figure, tall and terrible. A red light emanated from it, as if it were watching everything.

Even the brilliance of the sun seemed to dim before it.

Henry’s soul felt a fear like nothing he had ever known. He wanted to flee, but found he was frozen in place.

The figure grew larger... No! It was getting closer! It reached out a hand, as if to snatch Henry away.