Chapter 777: Chapter 63: Testing_2 Chapter 777: Chapter 63: Testing_2 “I’m not very clear on that.” Tamas said, ashadly, “My horse was hit by two arrows and crazily ran off for several kiloters. Last night’s battle was commanded by Bunir’s soldiers. According to him, it seed like the barbarians were pulling sothing out of the water.”
“Pulling sothing out?” Winters shook his head, “I think they first dropped it in and then pulled it up—it must have been a way to asure the depth of the water.”
“asure the depth?” Tamas was taken aback and asked incredulously, “Do you an the Terdun barbarians are trying to learn on the fly? To build a bridge over the Big Horn River just like us?”
“I doubt those monkey-ass-faced fools would be that dumb.” Winters smiled, “If the people of Terdun start driving piles and building bridges across the river, it would be like putting a noose around their own necks.”
“Why?” Tamas’s mood was a rollercoaster of emotions.
“Ti,” Winters said flatly, “the weather is getting colder by the day, and the food supplies are dwindling; they don’t have much ti. But this place indeed is a good crossing point.”
“I’ll send soone to keep a close watch on this area!” Tamas imdiately perked up.
...
Winters asked leisurely, “How do you know they will cross the river here?”
“I… uh…” Tamas found himself at a loss for words.
“Purely from a terrain perspective, there are over forty places suitable for a forceful crossing in Iron Peak County,” Winters patiently explained to the battalion commander and acting camp head, “We might be able to control these forty-plus locations if we stretch ourselves thin, but this mindset could also be exploited by the people of Terdun.”
“Then… what should we do?”
“War is the art of deception, rember that,” Winters’ expression turned serious and his tone formal, “We make every effort to deceive and mislead the people of Terdun, and the people of Terdun are trying their utmost to deceive us. Tell , are the fire-makers still on the other side of the river?”
“They are?” Tamas dared not answer.
“Why?”
“That flag is still there…”
“When I was in Niutigu Valley, was my flag raised there?” Winters spoke with such calmness it was as if devoid of any emotion:
“The fire-makers might already be gone from the opposite bank, and Terdun’s elite might have silently broken camp; these recent raids could be smokescreens or perhaps indeed preparations for a forceful crossing; as for the enemy that ca last night, they might be elites deliberately using bone arrows, or they could just be a bunch of slave soldiers. Even the intelligence that reaches our mouths could be poisoned atballs.”
Tamas struggled to keep up with the Centurion’s line of thought: “Then… what do we do?”
“There’s no way to tell,” Winters said as if discussing the weather, “Intelligence is always incomplete, a mix of truth and falsehoods, complex and ssy. The old marshal once said—the duty of a commander is to make the right decisions based on the limited information, true or false as it may be.”
“It’s good that you’re here,” Tamas licked his lips and said wholeheartedly, “so I don’t need to think about this kind of thing, or else I would certainly go mad.”
Normally when faced with such blunt flattery, Winters would put on a stern face and give a lecture.
But this ti, he said nothing and rely sighed, casually kicking a small pebble into the river by his boot.
“I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you,” Winters said sowhat indifferently, “I don’t have that ability either. For example, I can’t figure out what’s happening on the other side of the river, nor can I fathom what the fire-makers are planning.”
Hearing such a disheartening comnt from the seemingly infallible Centurion sparked a sudden fear in Tamas. His forehead and back broke out in sweat, his heart pounding wildly, and he beca involuntarily parched with cold palms.
But as his unease surpassed a certain threshold, Tamas began to feel completely numb. There was only one thought left in his mind, solid like a foundation.
“Wherever you point, that’s where I’ll strike,” Tamas said with heartfelt determination, “You tell what to do, and I’ll get it done.”
“Having the ntality of a tool is not right.”
“I’m willing to be your tool. Just tell what we should do,” Tamas pleaded.
“What should we do? Since we can’t figure it out, let’s not bother guessing,” Winters laughed heartily, “Let the storm rage on, for I shall remain unmoved.”
“Let the storm rage on, for I shall remain unmoved,” Tamas mused over these words.
Winters gazed into the eyes of the battalion commander and asked, “What is the first phase of the ‘Storm Plan’?”
Tamas responded reflexively, “Hold the river! Don’t let a single person cross!”
“Ti is not on the enemy’s side,” Winters’s words were clear and distinct, “No matter the cost, no matter what tricks and sches the baboons’ asses have, our only concern is to hold the line along the riverbank of Central Iron Peak County. We cannot be led by them, we must instead force them to take the path we’ve drawn for them, it’s that simple.”
Tamas saluted with his hand.
He earnestly requested, “In last night’s battle, the first platoon suffered losses because they couldn’t reach the barbarians. Please issue us so muskets and bows and arrows. Even if many more barbarians co, I will hold out until the reinforcents arrive.”
“The losses are my neglect,” Winters said with a light laugh, “The old Marshal’s manual states that if sword and shield soldiers lack the covering fire of crossbows and muskets, they should be issued javelins. The manual also says ‘sword and shield soldiers should carry six stones.’ I used to wonder what the stones were for, thinking it was a typographical error. Now, I understand.”
“If there are no bows and arrows or muskets, so hemp rope would also do,” Tamas said urgently, “I’ve already started training the first platoon to use slings.”
“Good, keep training. Have the other platoons train as well,” Winters patted Tamas on the shoulder, “Additionally, I’ve prepared eighty archers for you—you’ll have eighty n per platoon. Whether you can control them, that’s up to your ability.”
…
With the assistance of Father Caman and the Priest of Niutigu Valley Church, the n, won, and children within Niutigu Valley town were smoothly divided into separate encampnts for n and won.
Winters cordoned off a separate area in the town for won and children to live, even going as far as building a small inner town and strictly forbidding adult males from entering.
One reason was to ensure the safety of won and children; another was to physically separate the won’s camp from the n’s camp.
“The barbarians are just across the river. With the great enemy before us, anyone who dares to misconduct themselves, disrupting public order and morals, will be hanged as a traitor,” Winters announced publicly to the civilians of Niutigu Valley, “Gentlen, show your courage. Your sons, wives, and mothers are counting on you. To defend Niutigu Valley is to protect them! Whoever shows cowardice or hesitates in battle betrays everyone.”
If it were the open and enthusiastic Sea Blue, forcibly separating the n from the ladies would certainly cause considerable trouble.
However, Iron Peak County, located on the edge of Paratu, is insular and conservative in its social mores.
Winters’ policy of separating n and won actually received praise from everyone—especially among the ladies and the older n.
Because soon after the flood of refugees poured into Niutigu Valley, there was a shocking gang rape case in the temporary shanty areas where the refugees had settled.
The perpetrator was swiftly taken through the entire trial process and publicly hanged.
According to local customs in Paratu, the victim’s father first stabs each criminal in the chest with a dagger on behalf of the victim—since it does not cause imdiate death, it is not considered murder.
Then, the Montaigne civic official personally pulled the lever, snapping the necks of the criminals.
Although “justice was swiftly delivered,” the impact of the horrific case on the people of Niutigu Valley could not be easily cald.
For a ti, the original residents of Niutigu Valley viewed the refugees as a scourge—thousands of people had suddenly cramd into the small town, resulting in more than just serious criminal cases, but also an increase in petty theft.
The local residents were even unwilling to let the refugees enter the church to pray.
And the refugees were equally indignant, being farrs with hos and livelihoods in nearby villages, who had left their hos unwillingly to flee to the town.
Now living in lowly shanties, eating coarse food, and suffering the cold stares of the town’s people.
Tensions escalated overnight.
It started with a few verbal exchanges, followed by several young lads scuffling, and quickly the town’s youth and farmhands went to gather their friends, and more and more people thronged the square.
Both sides were ard, and it looked like a full-blown fight was about to break out, beyond the control of the town mayor and the village chiefs.
At that ti, Winters was inspecting the river defenses, and in the end, it was Samukin who stepped forward to resolve the situation.
Samukin, with his considerable experience dealing with mobs, first sent out a cavalry troop; thirty riders managed to separate the two groups with just one charge.
The riders swung their vine whips like sabres, striking those confronting each other in the square until they were crying for their parents.
Then Samukin fired a volley of guns—without lead bullets, effectively dispersing the crowd.
After the Montaigne civic official returned to the city, the dispersed people were then rounded up house by house by the gendarrie.
“So you like brawling, huh?” Faced with hundreds of battered and listless brawlers, Winters issued a cold judgnt, “I’ll give you a taste of a real battlefield.”
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