“All Ghost Wolf Cavalry, go to Roseford to heal,” Robin ordered. They did not return to St. Sunday. St. Sunday was not a good place to stay. If they went there, the Ghost Wolf Cavalry might not be able to leave. Even though their numbers were greatly reduced, every soldier could impact the upcoming battles.
Aston Jones had suffered a setback. So had he. They were even now. Next would likely be the final battle, deciding the real fight between Kisia and South Land.
“Yes,” the many soldiers obeyed. However, Robin asked Aaron Linton separately, “Do you want to return to St. Sunday with me? I can let you see Theresa Lindsay, and I can also not tell her about your identity, just saying you are the military advisor, Ghost Fox.”
The position of Ghost Fox, in fact, was a high-ranking one within the Ghost Wolf Cavalry, and held great value within the Kisia army.
If it were an ordinary person in this position, the Ghost Wolf Cavalry would not submit to him. However, Aaron Linton was different. In a previous battle, he had lost to Aston Jones, but he proved his worth with his strength. Therefore, the Ghost Wolf Cavalry respected him. As Ghost Fox, his position was secure.
“No, I only want Theresa to be safe,” Aaron Linton shook his head. He had no other desires, and his wish was simple: for Theresa Lindsay to be safe with Rocco. That was his greatest wish. He knew he had made a big mistake and did not expect Theresa to forgive him. As long as Theresa Lindsay was safe, he would be content.
“Alright then,” Robin did not pressure Aaron Linton. His presence would actually benefit the Ghost Wolf Cavalry. For instance, the Ghost Wolf Cavalry was a group of extremely capable cavalrymen, but they were all brutes with few brains among them. They had tried to recruit several military advisers in the past, but none could control the Ghost Wolf Cavalry or were skilled enough. Therefore, having Aaron Linton with them was better.
“Thank you, War God,” said Aaron Linton, who had been fed some broken bread and water and was gradually regaining his vitality. However, his eyes were still black, his face pale, and it was estimated that he would need several days to recover. After arranging for Aaron Linton, Robin returned to the city.
Near St. Sunday, nearly one hundred thousand troops were stationed, specifically watching the movements of St. Sunday.
“Commander, look, who is that?” a deputy pointed out.
The commander hurriedly looked out and was stunned, “That’s… the War God of Kisia? When did he leave?” He also wanted to know. However, the current focus was not when he left, but whether to send troops to intercept him.
“Commander, let’s intercept him. We have so many people, hundreds of thousands. As long as we swarm him, we can definitely kill the War God of Kisia. At that time, we will have done a great service,” the deputy hastily said. The reward for killing the War God of Kisia would be incredible. However, the commander slapped the deputy on the head, “What are you thinking? Killing the War God of Kisia? If he doesn’t die, we might. We don’t act without orders from above.”
“Yes, sir,” the deputy accepted the order. But he was secretly grumbling, thinking the commander was just scared. Scared of the War God of Kisia. Otherwise, why would an army of hundreds of thousands dare not intercept a single man? If this had been said in the past, it would have been the height of absurdity. However, it was indeed true. Under the watchful eyes of hundreds of thousands of South Land soldiers, Robin leisurely entered St. Sunday. No one dared to stop him, showing the demeanor of a national war god.
“General,” seeing Robin return, the officers hurriedly approached to ask about the situation. People like Maclean, Theresa Lindsay, Jeff Reczek, Reese Daniels.
“Severe casualties, but not completely annihilated,” Robin slowly said. Upon hearing this, everyone sighed in relief. Severe casualties were acceptable as long as they weren’t completely wiped out. It was a relief amidst the unfortunate situation. Especially for Jeff Reczek and Maclean. These two had deep feelings for the Ghost Wolf Cavalry, having spent time with them.
“This time, we owe you much,” Robin looked at Theresa Lindsay for an extra moment.
“Me?” Theresa Lindsay was surprised. She didn’t understand what she had done to deserve such praise. However, Robin didn’t explain further and Theresa Lindsay didn’t ask again, though she remained puzzled as to why they were indebted to her for this battle. But Robin didn’t want to say any more either. She would find out later.
“I am guilty and deserve punishment, War God,” Harry Smith walked over, knelt halfway, and expressed his shame. Earlier, if it weren’t for his youthful arrogance, thinking he was invincible, and rashly fighting Rawdan Jefferson in an attempt to kill him, he wouldn’t have been nearly killed by a single blow. As a result, he implicated General Reczek, who came to his rescue. In the end, the War God had to come out to save them. He knew that all of this was because of his recklessness, which led to such a big mistake. “You deserve punishment.”
Robin thought for a moment with his hands behind his back and asked, “How many people did you lose in the area you were defending?”
“Seventeen,” Harry Smith said after some thought. There were thirty people in one area, and they lost seventeen.
“Alright then, go and distribute compensation to the families of these seventeen people. Not one less, understand?” Robin instructed.
“…”
Harry Smith was silent for a moment before replying, “Yes.”
However, he didn’t quite understand why the War God wanted him to distribute compensation.
“Oh right, your lunch box, the braised ribs that Rosey made for you, they’ve cooled down.”
Only then did Robin remember the braised ribs. He had left them at the city gate earlier, and now handed them to Jeff Reczek.
“General, you should have said so earlier. I’m starving. Come on, let’s all eat together.”
Jeff Reczek, still wrapped in layers of gauze, tried to habitually touch his head, but couldn’t reach it as his hand was bandaged. He chuckled, and pulled out a lunch box.
At that time, it was officially mealtime at the city gate.
Despite a day of heavy fighting, they managed to find joy amidst the hardship, and everyone cheerfully began eating.
Some were even boasting against the city wall about how many enemies they had killed.
Most of them were young soldiers.
The veterans sat to one side, smoking a few dry cigarettes, watching them, reminding them of their own early days in the army.
But Harry Smith didn’t eat. He respected the War God’s orders and went to distribute the compensation. But once he got there, he realized how painful this task was. Everyone looked heartbroken, and some even fainted.
By the end, when he had finished distributing the compensation to the seventeen families and returned to the city wall, he collapsed onto the ground.
He had never been so tired.
Never.
It was a hundred times more exhausting than fighting.
“How’s it going?”
At that moment, Robin came over.
“General, I was wrong.”
This time, Harry Smith truly admitted his mistake.
Being reckless on the battlefield, the losses weren’t necessarily his own, but perhaps those of his brothers. Every time he went to distribute compensation, his brothers’ families cried heart-wrenchingly, and his heart would tear as well.
A seemingly casual decision could sometimes be extremely important.
On the battlefield, one must keep their eyes wide open.