Chapter 377 Icefield
Strictly speaking, the royal family did not abandon the "Protector" company immediately, but the royal family itself was also in deep debt crisis. It was obviously impossible to control the market of the entire empire with only a few orders from the queen.
But fate always likes to torture people, and bad news always comes with it.
In the deep winter of early 1852, after resting for over two years, the Far North nation of Ferros suddenly unilaterally broke its "peace treaty" and, in a highly unnatural move, marched south again in the dead of winter. This time, they were even hungrier and more ravenous, like a pack of starving icy wolves. Not even the howling northerly winds and snow could stop them.
This group of inhumane Yankees did not seem to be waging a war. They were not even in a hurry to go south to attack the royal city. It was more like they were carrying out a large-scale, systematic massacre.
The villages along the way, swamped by the blizzard, erupted in trails of fire and black smoke. The Snow Wolf cavalry trailed a trail of captives and slaves. They didn't seem to want many captives; women, the elderly, and children were all rejected. After killing most of them, they selectively selected a few, many of whom would die on the march, swallowed by the wind and snow.
More Silver Iris people were reduced to frozen blood-red corpse circles blooming on the ice field, one after another carefully surrounded by human organs and limbs.
Later, testimony from the Far North during a military tribunal—albeit many years later—demonstrated that this was a sacrifice to Salvatore, the Great Shaman of Feroth. The Feroth believed that the blood and flesh of their enemies would warm their limbs and stomachs, protecting them from the cold. The greater the sacrifice, the greater the Great Shaman's protection, ensuring they would not lose their way in the snow.
In recent years, Queen Esmery has indeed made drastic moves to dispose of a large number of corrupt generals, attempting to reform the military. However, the situation remains stubbornly entrenched. With the empire's finances already precarious and barely functioning, the highly sophisticated jet-based weapons have yet to be fully deployed. Furthermore, no one expected the Ferros people to be so reckless as to brave the ravaging winter blizzards and come out en masse. The extreme cold caused widespread malfunction of standard firearms and ammunition.
The logistical support could not keep up, and the Northern Legion was caught off guard and almost collapsed when facing this group of Northerners who rode on snow wolves and grew up in snow caves. Even more soldiers died of freezing and starvation than those killed by the Fellowes people.
At this moment, the People's Party unexpectedly announced to the entire empire that it was willing to temporarily put aside the old grudges and differences with the royal family of the Silver Iris Empire and go to the north to jointly resist foreign enemies.
So far, the royal family has not responded to this.
…
The Long Night Sea, Saga Glacier, means "white tomb" in the local language.
The bitter winter froze the sea, stretching towards the horizon in a pale expanse. The completely frozen sea surface transformed into a vast, flat, and solid ice highway, which only melted in the height of summer.
But this place is not completely dead. Near the coastline, there are several small villages scattered around. The local residents have made a living by hunting beasts from the ice and sea and collecting algae under the ice. It is difficult to say whether they belong to the Silver Iris Empire or to Fernloth. Perhaps they just belong to the ice itself.
This ice field with an extremely harsh natural environment was originally so poor that even the empire's tax officials did not want to set foot here. However, in the winter of 1852, the Saga Ice Field appeared in the public eye in the most cruel way.
As a seasonal natural passage, the Snow Wolf Cavalry and large sled teams of the Fellos people can travel across the Saga Icefield as if it were flat ground, avoiding the steep ice layers and quickly bypassing the Silver Iris Empire's painstakingly built fortresses on land.
What's more, the sea is frozen and ships can only reach the distant ice floes. If they want to go deep into the heart of the ice field, they must change to sleds. Before the arrival of summer, the empire's naval fleet will be blocked outside the ice field and will be useless.
The Silver Iris Empire's northern garrison understood this as well, but their efforts were limited. Even scattered across the ice's commanding heights were desperate blocking positions, where the imperial soldiers huddled behind makeshift ice barriers or rocks, starved of food and fuel. They were practically frozen like ice sculptures, their weapons and bodies alike.
It was a rare winter day, and the sunlight glared down the ice sheet with such intensity that it hurt my eyes. Without goggles, I'd be snow-blind in less than two hours.
But no one knows when the elusive Feroth people will come, bringing their snow wolves with extremely sensitive sense of smell, to slaughter the empire's surviving soldiers in the most cruel way - or perhaps the unpredictable winter blizzards will come faster than the Feroth people, and completely engulf all living things on the ice field.
A soldier with a face black and swollen from the cold, wrapped in a thick felt blanket covered with snow, slowly walked up to the sentry post and handed a bronze telescope to the commander Leon Croft who was lying in the trench.
"Boss, we've spotted a Yankee transport convoy," he said, pointing to the distant icefield gleaming in the sunlight, suppressing his excitement. "It's not a large group, about fifty or so, escorted by only ten Snow Wolf cavalrymen. They look like they're isolated. Wanna go?"
Leon Croft, barely feeling his fingers, took the telescope with difficulty, and saw a Fernloth sled team slowly crawling across the ice like a clumsy beetle.
There were about seven or eight sleds, pulled by giant elk, piled high with supplies and covered tightly with thick felt. There were indeed only ten Snow Wolf cavalrymen around, scattered about. Those huge, ferocious, tusked beasts were casually enjoying the sunshine, occasionally lowering their heads to sniff the scent on the ice.
This was an extremely tempting target. Lyon licked his cracked and bleeding lips.
His army had a full complement of 120 men, but fewer than 50 could still lift a gun. They huddled like rats in this icy hole, surviving on a last morsel of black bread, disgusting even more than frozen dog shit, and slush. Even after collecting the weapons of the dead, more than half the guns still couldn't fire, and three of the five cannons had become useless lumps of metal.
The supply team had long since disappeared, but on the sleds might be the food, fuel, and medicine they desperately needed, and perhaps even Fellowes-made weapons. The Yankees' equipment seemed to be better adapted to the severe cold than theirs - whether it was God-given hope or a bait to lure them into the abyss, they would only die if they continued to waste time, so they might as well take a gamble.
"Dry."
Leon Croft didn't hesitate for long. He gritted his teeth and ordered, "Leave two of you to tend to the wounded. Everyone else who can move, get up and check your weapons. Those without guns and cannons, bring your bayonets and shovels. Let's go around behind the ice ridge to the leeward side to avoid being sniffed by those beasts."
So they left the trenches, used the undulations of the ice field and natural cracks as cover, and silently reached the ice ridge. Then they lay on the cold snow and pointed the muzzles of their guns, which were still able to hold out, at the Fairlos transport team exposed on the snowfield.
The Snow Wolf Cavalry was getting closer and closer, and Leon held his breath nervously. He could already see the gray icicles hanging on the dirty fur of the leading Snow Wolf, and the hot breath from under the Snow Wolf Cavalry's mask - he slowly raised his right hand, ready to order an attack.
At this moment, a sharp and shrill wolf howl exploded from behind them!
This seemed to be a signal, and the howling of wolves rang out one after another. More additional snow wolf cavalrymen were like demons emerging from the ice, suddenly appearing on the snow slopes on the flanks, shouting something loudly in the Fellowes language, full of cruelty and excitement in preparation for the hunt.
Fallen in! Leon Croft's pupils shrank sharply.
"Retreat! Retreat quickly!" He roared loudly, but before his voice could get far across the snowfield, it was completely blended into the howling wind.
But it was too late. The speed of the transport team suddenly increased. The thick felt cloth was suddenly lifted up, and a group of Ferros soldiers armed with battle axes and crossbows appeared on the sled. They jumped off one after another and rushed towards Lyon's team, forming an encirclement together with the Snow Wolf Knights on the flank.
The hunt on the ice field has begun, and the reversal between hunter and prey is only a moment away.
They easily drove Lyon's troops together, and the first few who opened fire were instantly killed by crossbows. However, the Ferros people did not rush to deal with the remaining imperial soldiers. A woman wearing a snow wolf fur cloak, a skull necklace, and a face painted with frost and fang-shaped totems in black paint, walked out from behind the snow wolf cavalry.
Leon Croft's face was as pale as death.
He'd been on the battlefields of the North long enough to know what that meant.
These damned Yankees were determined to make them into "monuments of flesh and blood" to sacrifice to their damned Great Shaman. This was undoubtedly the worst possible outcome; they would be dismembered alive, their limbs cut off, their genitals cut off, and their stomachs ripped open to take out their hearts, lungs, and intestines, some of which would be fed to the snow wolves and priests, and some used as paint and bricks.
"Attack!" Leon Croft roared in despair, his eyes bloodshot. "Everyone, attack! Shoot! Stab! Bite! Even if it means death, I'll take those Yankees with me into the abyss!"
"ridiculous."
The priestess shook her head. She actually spoke the Common Tongue, though her voice was rather stilted. The next second, she switched to Fehros and spoke something to the Snow Wolf Riders beside her. The wolves howled in unison, scrambling to pounce on their trapped prey!
"boom--"
A cannon shot rang out across the ice, but it wasn't from Lyon Croft's soldiers.
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