"Sir, your hat."
Missy placed the blown-off hat on Dingle's head, and then said:
"Twelve years ago, before the Emperor ascended the throne, our Golt was beset by internal and external troubles. The Kosovo Empire had eroded our territory to the point that only thirty-six cities remained. The holy city of Salvia was even nearly taken away by them."
"It was a truly despairing time, but I still vividly remember the speech the Emperor gave under the statue of Saint Marín on New Year's Eve of that year."
He said, "The blood of us Goths flows in our veins and we will never yield. We should not fear war, for war is the moment that tests a nation. Now we have reached the most difficult time. If we choose to surrender, we will forever become slaves to others. If you choose to fight, then do not be afraid of death. Death is only the end for us as individuals, but not the end for our nation and country. Does death mean the disappearance of a person? It can only take away your life, but your will will live on forever!"
At this point, Misby still felt a surge of anger, but he quickly composed himself and said calmly:
"Twelve years have passed. The former Kosovo Empire has disappeared, and only our Delta Federation remains on the continent of Salisno."
"We lost this battle, but has it reached a point of despair? I think it's far from over."
"What do you think, sir?"
Misby reached out again and straightened the hat that was on Dingle's head.
Dingle lowered his head and, after a few seconds of silence, said:
"Um."
Then, he turned to look behind him, his eyes gradually welling up with tears. But then he lowered the brim of his hat, hiding his eyes in the shadows, and Dingle turned to look at the winding road ahead.
“Let’s go, to Heinrich,” he said, his voice trembling.
——
In a slightly low-lying depression, Haber desperately hid under the carcass of a horse that had been killed by artillery fire. He curled up in the horse's belly, its internal organs spilling out onto the ground, and the gushing blood almost soaked through Haber's entire body. The dense gunfire around him made Haber tremble uncontrollably, but he dared not look up, for fear that some indiscriminate bullet would be shot toward his head.
More than an hour ago, he finally realized that he could not break through the enemy's blockade. On the way back, the infantry suffered heavy casualties. They were unable to even fight back. The cannonballs falling from the sky took their lives. Meanwhile, the cavalry on the flanks were subjected to pinpoint fire from the enemy cavalry. In a very short time, all the cavalry were shot down.
Dingle, as envisioned, did not lead his troops to provide support from outside the encirclement, plunging Haber into immense despair. He couldn't understand why Dingle could turn a blind eye at such a critical juncture. With over 20,000 troops, why couldn't he try to launch an attack from the enemy's perimeter so that he could break through with his army?
He just watched so many people trapped in the encirclement without saying a word. Did he really have the heart to make a sacrifice after seeing that defeat was inevitable, exchanging the annihilation of his own troops for their survival?
Harper refused to believe it. Despite his despair, deep down he still hoped that Dingle would appear with his army to rescue him someday.
However, it was already afternoon. Ten minutes earlier, when he hid under his warhorse, he took one last look at his own forces and saw only a few thousand men running wildly in all directions, while the enemy had countless cavalrymen, pressing in from all sides like a dark cloud.
So he gave up all hope and chose to hide in the belly of his warhorse, intending to pretend to be a corpse and perhaps save his life.
Although this method is indeed too humiliating for a soldier, at this point, who cares about anything else?
At that moment, Habo heard the sound of horses' hooves approaching from afar, which startled him, because his own cavalry had already been killed. So it was clear that the sound of horses' hooves was coming from the enemy.
He hurriedly grabbed a filthy pile of internal organs and smeared them haphazardly on his face and body, then lay down on his side on the ground.
With his eyes closed, Harper could see nothing. The strong smell of blood in his nostrils made him nauseous. He suppressed the urge to vomit and tried his best to remain motionless, like a real corpse.
The deliberate shutting down of his vision made Habo's hearing even more acute at this moment. The artillery fire had stopped more than half an hour ago because his own forces no longer had enough troops to concentrate, and the enemy had switched to skirmishing tactics to attack.
Such an offensive tactic was not uncommon in Harbor's military career, but it was ineffective because the accuracy of the shots was extremely low, making it impossible to inflict significant casualties. Therefore, it had long been abandoned. Only a linear formation firing in unison could effectively kill the enemy.
Ironically, in today's battle, the enemy used this very method of attack to kill a large number of their own soldiers. Harbo could only conclude that their marksmanship was superior, with almost everyone reaching the level of a sharpshooter. Of course, this was also due to the fact that their weapons were perhaps better.
Now, another sporadic burst of gunfire rang out, accompanied by dozens of screams, and the sound of horses' hooves gradually drew closer. Harbo became increasingly nervous.
"Bang!"
"Bang! Bang!"
Several gunshots rang out almost right next to his ears, nearly making Harper jump in surprise. Then, an angry shout suddenly rang out:
"That guy's faking his death!"
As soon as he finished speaking, Harper quickly rolled over, and a gunshot rang out at the same time.
"ah!"
With a scream, a Golgar infantryman who had just gotten up from the ground was shot in the back of the head before he could take a step. Red and white matter splattered out, and he fell backward to the ground, dead.
Harper froze, realizing that the enemy soldier's "that guy" wasn't referring to him, but to another person who was pretending to be dead.
"There's one more."
A voice like that of a demon rang out, and as Habo rolled, he caught sight of a cavalryman pointing a lance at him, the dark barrel of which seemed ready to fire a bullet at any moment.
And indeed, that was the case; with a loud "bang."
The bullet grazed his arm and entered the ground. Harper screamed in terror:
"I surrender! I surrender!!!"
"Don't kill me! I surrender!"
He lay on the ground with his hands raised, his blood-stained face facing the dozens of cavalrymen directly in front of him, and he howled loudly.
The cavalrymen still pointed their spears at him, their faces unusually grim, almost like inhuman beings.
Harbo shouted repeatedly, "I surrender to you! I am a lieutenant general! You can use me as a bargaining chip!"
"Bang!"
Almost simultaneously, a gunshot rang out, and the bullet struck Harper precisely in the forehead.
"It's not time to need bargaining chips in this war yet."
The cavalrymen, their faces cold, stepped over Habo's corpse and began to finish off the dead, clearing the battlefield.
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