Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 402 - 401: Pursuit and Escape

The war has not ended.

In most noble wars of this era, when the Cecil Clan achieved great victories on the northern and western fronts and the southern borders Noble Allied Army fled completely, the war should have concluded. Next, the Cecil Clan would negotiate with various families of the southern borders using captured prisoners for ransom and land distribution. But these are merely wishful thoughts of the nobles who initiated the war.

The war can start with their absurd and laughable reasons for conquest, but it will not end with just one battle or one surrender.

The main retreating forces of the Allied Army are the Hosman Main Force located in the north. In that battle, out of the fifty thousand aristocratic Soldiers of the Allied Army, less than ten thousand actually died or were wounded. Their long disordered columns, arduous mountain paths, and scattered marching routes caused them to disintegrate instantly when faced with artillery bombardment. However, from another perspective, this allowed most of them to survive. The first round of bombardment only destroyed the leading troops of the Allied Army (including the entire corps led by Count Hosman). In the following half-day, the number of soldiers who died from retreat trampling, killed by Supervising Knights, or fell off cliffs during retreat were nearly as many as those killed by artillery fire.

Afterwards, the surviving forty thousand began their nightmarish and embarrassing flight, day and night.

Apart from leaving necessary garrison troops to ensure the safety of the Kant Region, the First and Second Legions led by Sir Philip and Knight Wald Peric, totaling over three thousand men, relentlessly pursued these fleeing enemies from a distance.

Three thousand chasing forty thousand sounds almost like a joke, but it truly happened.

In the hills west of Viscount Carol’s territory, with the leader’s orders in his heart, Sir Philip hurriedly ate a few bites of dry rations, then went to the middle of the formation to check on the bombardment position setup.

Specially designed horse-drawn war chariots stopped in the open space at the center of the military formation, with soldiers running swiftly around the carriages, securing the chassis of each vehicle, and checking the condition of those small rail cannons.

The wheels of those war chariots were reinforced with steel, and sturdy steel frames were welded onto the axle sleeves, with the miniaturized "Persuader" rail cannons fixed onto those steel frames.

These are "bombardment chariots" specially designed by the leader for mobile warfare. The miniaturized "Persuader" rail cannons can be easily installed on horse-drawn war chariots. Upon entering combat state, the harnesses of the chariots will be removed, and the surrounding chariot body will be fixed to the ground with massive steel stakes. The recoil from rail cannon firing is buffered and transmitted to the ground through the sturdy steel frames and specially designed "retraction mechanism." Thanks to these exquisite designs, these powerful weapons finally can detach from fixed turrets and turn into terrifying mobile armaments accompanying the army.

And to ensure the operation of these bombardment chariots, each bombardment chariot is equipped with two auxiliary chariots—one fully loaded with ammunition and the other fitted with a large Magic Capacitor and Magic Web Device, providing ammunition and energy, respectively. Three such chariots form a "Mobile Artillery Unit," and in the pursuit forces, there were a total of twenty such units.

These artillery pieces are the source of nightmares day and night for the still-fleeing Noble Coalition Army.

In the eyes of the young knight, these advanced and powerful weapons are already incredibly strong equipment, but Sir Philip knows that these are only "transition items" in the leader’s words. The legendary hero seems to have even more powerful and incredible concepts than the Mobile Artillery Units. But for the current task, those existing only in conception are not important; the Magic Crystal Railguns are the solid force of the Cecil Combat Corps.

Well-trained Soldiers completed the construction of the artillery position with the fastest speed and then began to await the commander’s orders. Sir Philip raised his head, seeing the old Knight Wald Peric walking toward him.

"The sentinel towers saw smoke and dust; the enemy is in the designated position."

The old knight from the Kant territory reported meticulously and then gave a rather reverent glance at the ready-to-go artillery units while Sir Philip looked up at the sun, silently estimating the time in his heart.

A few minutes later, the young knight whispered, "They should be starting their meal."

Then he turned and loudly ordered to the nearby message-passers, "Commence firing, three volleys!"

The artillerymen, receiving orders, each pulled the firing levers. Accompanied by a series of successive air blasts and sharp whistles, twenty Magic Crystal Railgun shells, shrouded in pale blue magical brilliance, burst out of the muzzles with destructive force, drawing faint arcs in the clear sky.

From the distance, a succession of huge explosions began to resound, occurring far away from the smoke and dust. Yet everyone knew that those aristocratic deserters had been frightened out of their wits by the cannon fire; even if the shells fell kilometers away, they would flee as soon as they heard the noise.

After three volleys, the cannonade ceased firing, while messengers ran through the positions relaying new orders: "Prepare the chariots!" "First and second light infantry companies, set out!" "Grenadiers, depart with the chariots!"

The well-trained First Corps of Cecil immediately began to execute the orders, and the Second Legion from the Kant Region was also spurred into action by the atmosphere. Wald Peric, watching Sir Philip with admiration, remarked, "I didn’t expect someone so young to be so adept in warfare; is the Cecil Clan always this skilled in combat?"

Sir Philip’s face showed a slightly uneasy smile; the praise from the old knight felt somewhat awkward to him: "This... in fact, I’m just following the orders and hints from the leader, even I didn’t expect these methods to be so effective."

As he said this, Sir Philip couldn’t help but recall the instructions Gawain had given him—

After the battle concludes, pursue the fleeing Noble Coalition Army relentlessly. Use long-range light artillery and continuous harassment to chase them to exhaustion. Follow them every step of the way, attacking every station they stop at, and drive them out before they can resupply, turning enemy provisions into our own supply. Open the granaries of every aristocrat along the way, distributing all the food in Cecil’s name to nearby residents, except for the rations needed for the troops. The well-trained and well-equipped First Corps of Cecil will be the main force, with the Second Legion from the Kant Region accompanying them, capturing any straggling enemy prisoners and sending them to the rear, enforcing the strictest military control throughout this process...

This will be a race of endurance and psychological limits. Those who cannot withstand it first are bound to be the Noble Coalition Army who tremble at the sound of cannons.

Since that decisive victory, this long pursuit has lasted for three days. Although only three days have passed, Sir Philip has increasingly felt the effectiveness and... the terrifying nature of the leader’s instructions during each day’s pursuit.

The leader seemed to have foreseen the course of this war, even predicting the route and most reactions of the enemy after their defeat. The Cecil army seemed to be hunting down a weakened flock of sheep. In this process, war transformed into something unrelated to honor, but increasingly filled with a bloody and brutal nature.

As an orthodox knight who revered knightly conduct, Sir Philip still chose to carry out these orders. This was not only out of loyalty but also due to his rationality—reasoning told him that these seemingly cruel actions were actually the method to quickly restore peace to the southern borders. Only when these foolish aristocrats were utterly defeated could he be spared the need to conduct another cannonade at Broken Stone Ridge in a few years.

The army set off, as if the endless pursuit and escape played out once more on the vast lands of the southern borders. The Cecil Clan warriors, equipped with heat-ray guns and full of energy and morale, resumed their pursuit of the aristocratic Soldier Remnants, like birds startled by a bow.

After that catastrophic cannon bombardment three days ago, the Noble Coalition Army had long been terrified by the whistling and explosions of such cannon fire. In their flight, they didn’t have the mental energy to devise countermeasures. Even if a few still had the capacity for rational thinking, they would be swept along by tens of thousands of panicking deserters, fleeing all the way. In such circumstances, the Cecil soldiers encountered hardly any significant resistance from the enemy.

In the initial phase of the pursuit, a few remaining combat-effective units among the aristocratic Soldier Remnants attempted to fight back, but these forces quickly became victims under the concentrated fire of the heat-ray guns. A few survivors were taken as the first batch of captives received by the pursuing forces. As the pursuit continued, these attempts at resistance became increasingly rare and feeble.

Like panic, hunger was gradually consuming the strength and will of everyone in the Noble Coalition Army.

To escape, the Noble Coalition Army had to abandon a large amount of their supplies, including most of their food, which was discarded along the way. No one had anticipated that the Cecil Clan would engage in such a horrifying pursuit without respite. In this endless flight, they quickly exhausted almost all the dry rations they carried, while the unceasing artillery and harassment from the Cecil forces left them no time to stop and eat properly.

The fleeing Noble Coalition Army tried to find refuge within the high walls of Viscount Carol’s territory, but the Cecil forces demolished their city walls with "cannons" before their eyes. Subsequently, the Coalition was driven westward like a herd of sheep. They attempted to resupply from stations and manors along their path, but the Cecil artillery would constantly shadow them, descending upon them whenever they hoped to find shelter. Aristocratic Soldiers would barely have time to grab a bite of bread before being chased in panic to the next destination—and their provisions would become rations for the Cecil forces.

The fleeing nobles gradually realized that those followers of Cecil had no intention of ending the war. They had no plans to cease or negotiate, and that ancient legend who never adhered to aristocratic rules was also unwilling to observe such rules this time—the objective of this war was not noble games but a fight to the death.

However, even after the awakening, the nobles were helpless; they had no choice but to continue their flight, running without pause until they were dead-tired.

In the endless flight day after day, their strength and will began to plunge to the lowest ebb.

(Gosh!!)