Ars pushed open the door and saw the lonely figure by the fire, a sense of empathy rising in his heart. Blaze had lost two-thirds of his comrades today, and his devastation was no less than Ars's.
"Blaze, aren't you going to sleep yet?" Ars sat down next to Blaze, wearing a coat.
Upon seeing his lord, Blazer abruptly stood up and bowed. "My lord, I can't sleep. I keep thinking about my comrades. Today, we lost too quickly and too thoroughly."
Ars looked at the stocky young man in front of him. He had short, thick hair and tanned skin, but his eyes were full of tears. Clearly, he had not only been playing the flute, but had also been crying silently by himself.
"It's okay, don't cry, sit down, sit down. It's just one failure, maybe it's a good thing. Blazer, tell me, have you lost in the last few years?"
Blazer didn't understand what Ars was talking about as a good thing. He shook his head. In the past few years, he had never lost a battle, whether against mountain bandits or the scout militia of neighboring Balda.
“That’s it. Winning all the time isn’t a good thing either. We haven’t lost in so long that we’ve underestimated the cavalry. I’ve also thought that losing once is a good thing. At least we can find the reasons for the failure. At least we’re still alive and have a chance. Don’t be too sad or discouraged. I, Ars, can afford to lose.”
Blazer seemed thoughtful. The cavalry had indeed made some mistakes in this operation, such as sending out too few scouts and their formation being excessively loose. They didn't even realize the enemy was approaching until they were right beside them. What killed them was less the enemy's sharp attack and more the chaos and fear that followed.
Blazer nodded, feeling a bit better. He straightened up and bowed again. "My lord, I will do even better next time I encounter that cavalry." His eyes gleamed brightly in the firelight.
Ars nodded, looking at the young man he had personally mentored with great appreciation. Blaze was born into a wealthy merchant family and could have easily inherited his father's business and wealth. However, at the age of thirteen, he left his parents and came alone to Arsburg, saying he didn't want to be a merchant, but a knight. The resolute look in the boy's young face touched Ars, who also needed a groom. So, thirteen-year-old Blaze became Ars's groom. Within a year, Blaze became a novice knight, and finally, at the age of 21, he became a full knight, commanding Ars's most prized cavalry unit.
Ars patted Blazer on the shoulder. "Play it again. That tune was really nice. I want to hear it again."
Blaze readily agreed. The flute music started again, and by the campfire, two figures sat like father and son.
Tonight, things suddenly don't seem so bad anymore.
Ars's crushing defeat also delighted Sind. He had previously harbored doubts about the Nightfire mercenaries' strength, given their dismal performance in the operation to capture Serena. However, this swift and complete rout of Ars's cavalry forced Sind to reassess their fighting capabilities.
After all, the reputation of Ars' cavalry was not something to be taken lightly; it was built up through countless battles.
That evening, Sind hosted a banquet for Ensey and Ted, the leaders of the Nightfire mercenaries. The two sides mingled and enjoyed themselves immensely. During the meal, both expressed their willingness to engage in further, in-depth cooperation. The two sides quickly reached an agreement and were very satisfied.
Just then, an untimely messenger approached Sind and whispered a few words. Sind, who had been all smiles moments before, instantly fell silent. He silently finished his wine and elegantly informed Ensey that he had some urgent business to attend to. He invited them to eat and drink to their hearts' content, promising to return and enjoy themselves together once he was finished.
Ensey, with his keen observation skills, naturally understood that Sind had encountered some urgent matter that upset him. He nodded to him, indicating that he should not worry about them and should just go about his business.
As Sind walked out of the banquet hall, his expression instantly changed. "Are you sure your information is accurate?"
"My lord, all of this was told to me by that black-robed lord this morning. Your brother not only tamed nearly eight thousand refugees, but also sent people across the no-man's-land to find elven caravans in preparation for purchasing weapons and equipment. I also have a secret letter here, which that black-robed lord specifically instructed me to deliver to you personally."
Sind took the sealed letter from the soldier; it was just a letter sealed with sealing wax. He tore open the envelope, and inside was only one sentence.
"I've found that person. He's an Aruru, nothing to fear. We'll move tonight."
Sind closed the note, but a vague feeling of unease lingered in his heart.
Could an Aruru person really have this level of intelligence? Is he just trying to fool me? But if he were to try to fool me, he wouldn't choose such an incompetent person.
If it's true, it's utterly ridiculous. A baron having an Aruruman strategizing behind his back—if this got out, he'd be a laughingstock, definitely. It's worse than killing that Aruruman.
Sind clenched his fist. What a pity! He should have stopped him from killing that Aruru. He should have leaked the news, letting the world laugh at his foolish brother.
But thinking about it, accidents are always part of life; that's just life. Although Sind felt a little regretful, he then thought, "This is for the best; it's all over now."
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