Herald of Steel

Lord Bernard's great success in his counterattack had as much to do with the incompetence of the natives as it had to do with another man- that young nobleman who waa his cousin.

In fact, it was he who had done the majority of the work here, planning and directing the men on how to attack and tear their opponent apart.

For example, it was he who divided the 3,000 men into 6 much smaller, more manageable 500 men chucks and let them lose into the world.

These units were far more effective at hunting the smaller five to ten Helvati group across the battlefield, and at one point, three such groups even managed to surround a huge contingent of more than 1,000 Helvati from three different directions and slaughtered them to the tee.

In that particular case, that young nobleman had even used himself as bait, using his shiny armor to taunt the enemy and lure them to the trap.

To do something like that even in the best of circumcenter took immense courage.

Never mind doing it in a case where his 500 men were surrounded on all sides by so many mad marauding Helvati, itching to get a piece of him.

Maddened by battle lust, any one of the suicidal forces attacking his flanks would have been enough to foil his plan and even destroy him.

But given the direness of the situation, his young man felt little scalps.

While the soldiers were also confident in their commander's ability to follow him unquestioningly and stood their ground.

It was unknown whether the same would have happened if the verdant Lord Bernard were to take his place.

And for this, the clever politician was very quick and vocal to praise his cousin.

"Ho… how is this happening? No! Not again!"

While Lord Bernard's counterattack decimated his foes like a hot knife through butter, the Helvati chief who was riding high up in his cloud suddenly felt like he was being yanked down into an abyssal nightmare.

He could not believe the macabre sight that was unfolding and it brought up some very unpleasant memories.

If he were to lose here after coming so close… at that point Metztil's wound in his heart was more for his people than the potential loss of his political position.

Such a defeat would subject the natives to perhaps another century of abject poverty.

'No! We cannot stand that! We must win! We must! We must win!' The great chief venemously swore in his heart, his eyes turning red with fury and hurt, even some tears filling them.

"Aghhhhhhh!" Then with a gigantic roar he and his small entourage of bodyguards rode straight towards the enemy, wishing to give them battle no matter the consequences.

"Alexan…. My lord, shouldn't we go help?" Seeing Metztil's distinct banner move straight towards Lord Bernard's position, Remus finally could no longer keep quiet and posed in a greatly urgent manner.

Until now he and his 1,000 riders had been watching the entire fiasco unfold from the back of the formation with Alexander's company.

They had also followed the retreating Margraves army but much more slowly as the hollow square formation was also not the easiest formation to march in since you had to make sure you kept a certain distance between the three other lines.

In addition, they also made sure to keep an eye out for traps or ambushes,

So until now, they had been waiting for their lord command's allowing them to go chase the enemy.

For that, they had even watched the Margraves surround and destroy a huge 1,000 strong contingent of the natives, although at that time they were really too far to come offer aid. In the shifting chaos of the battlefield, they had noticed them too late.

But now… the young general felt that time had come!

If they delayed any longer, their allies might be in truly serious trouble.

"No… just keep your eyes and ears open for the Heeat army. They have to be close." Alexander's negative reply was one of boredom and nonchalance, repeating his previous instructions with dim eyes.

"Wha.. what?" However to Remus, this was almost like a bolt from the sky.

Judging by what he knew of his friend and lord, he had assumed getting permission for this no brainer of an attack was a mere formality.

He had even started preparing his horse to head out.

"B…but there is no Heeat army! If there were, they would have been here by now!" He thus cried out, finding Alexander's caution now passing over to paranoia.

Remus also did not believe Alexander did not know the unlikelyness of his worries.

The battlefield by now had grown much too chaotic for the 10,000 or so Heeat forces to join and produce any effect- the Margraves were split into two, one of that part had buggered off, while the other was madly hunting the wild Helvati.

There was no sense of formation on the battlefield, with each side basically being inside the other's ranks.

So if the Heeats were to make a move here, it would turn into a chicken race, with all three factions getting themselves totally lost and confused in the ensuing chaos.

They would not even know who were friendlies and who were the target because many of the marauding units had no banner with them and both the natives and Margraves wore dark clothing that from a distance appeared black.

So the perfect chance to attack the natives had already passed- one which should have happened just as the Margraves were retreating and the Helvati were chasing.

And Remus was damn sure Alexander knew all of this.

But after seeing Alexander still just keep observing the deteriorating situation without blinking an eye, in the interest of giving the young lord the benefit of the doubt and thinking he was having a slow day, Remus still decided to spell it out for him,

"If there was indeed even such a plot, they should have appeared to rescue their allies just as me and my men appeared. Or at least they should have tried to help cover their retreat. Given none of those had happened, it means either they have retreated or the Heeats did not even come in the first place."

"......" Yet despite the very detailed analysis, Alexander still initially only lightly nodded… as if only acknowledging he heard Remus.

'Good job. Take a pat on the back,' Alexander's body seemed to sarcastically say.

But this 'slap on the shoulder good job' reply did not satisfy Remus.

"......" He kept that accusatory gaze squarely locked with Alexander, demanding a real reply.

It was very apparent that he could not accept this order.

Now, in any other military of the world in this time period, such a thing would have likely gotten a civilian like Remus hanged for court martial.

An officer had limits to how he could he could act with his superior, even if he vehemently disagreed with him, especially when that superior was as high ranking as Alexander.

In all other cases, Remus would have sullenly nodded and kept quiet.

But Alexander's organizational structure was not like the likes of Lord Bakerfield's, it was unique.

Argument, discourse, debate and even outright quarreling were not only allowed but even subtly encouraged.

And since Remus had made quite a good point, Alexander knew he had to give the brash kid a reply lest he got really jittery.

Alexander hence opened up his clamped mouth,

"You are right! Lord Parker is not here. Most probably he did not even come. I just don't like to work with idiots. This is me punishing them."

"????" The frank succinct answer stunned Remus.

He could not believe the reason Alexander was letting the Helvati get masscared was just to get back at Metztil for refusing to heed his warning and not destroy the formation.

"Surely there are better times to teach them a lesson! Like not during a war!" Remus involuntarily cried with heavy sarcasm, his eyes bulging with incredulity.

"No! These brutes will never listen to us 'outsiders' in civilized ways. The only way to stick it to them is through blood and death!" Alexander simply retorted, his voice cool and dry, devoid of any trace of rage or anger.

Rather it was tinged with cruelty and barbed disregard,

"Even if the Helvati break, there is no problem. That rear guard formation is only a few thousand men strong. Our 10,000 legionaries will be more than enough."

"...." Remus was once again left speechless.

True, what Alexander said was likely correct.

Given that the bulk of the Margraves army was nowhere to be seen, the rear guard was likely abandoned here as a delaying sacrifice.

Meaning they could take their sweet surrounding and destroy them.

But that was not the point here, as indicated by Remus,

"But what use is teaching Chief Metztil a lesson if he dies before he can use that knowledge? Look! His banner is headed straight towards the Margrave main force! Wouldn't he dying throw off all your deals?"

It was quite funny to see the eternally apolitical Remus giving such advice.

"Hmmm!" While hearing it Alexander lightly hummed, for a second even thinking, 'The foolish Metztil dying might not be too bad.'

"Fine... go rescue that fool!" But then he at last acquiesced.

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