Chapter 1363 - 1281: Battle of Feiha (Part 1)

Chapter 1363: Chapter 1281: Battle of Feiha (Part 1)

Imperial Calendar, January 26, 1463, the sky was like lead, yet snowflakes drifted down, falling on the branches which only had withered leaves left.

On the snow-covered pine branches, the cold crows cawed, and the Holy Alliance soldiers, in their coats, marched forward in five columns.

In the river beside them, along the mossy green banks, were densely floating corpses.

They collided, entangled, swirling in the water grasses and ice floes, slowly drifting downstream.

Jeska knew those were the believers from Thorn Garden, driven into the river by the vampires.

The vampires didn’t have a way to kill a large number of civilians directly; burying or killing individually took time.

So the vampires creatively invented a method of drowning instead of burying, driving all the local people to the riverbanks to drown or freeze to death.

Riding on horseback, looking at the bodies which had frost on their eyebrows and hair, Jeska couldn’t help but sigh.

Beside Jeska, Michelle couldn’t help but speak: "Why didn’t they resist? They clearly could have resisted, resistance means death, no resistance means death, why no resistance?"

"The reason is simple, but how many can actually do it?" Jeska coughed, "Between life and death, people like the Saint’s Grandson who care not, are indeed very few."

After speaking, Jeska couldn’t help but cough again. He was exactly fifty this year, his physical strength declining yet at a peak of experience and intellect.

Unfortunately, like Lakunio, Jeska had been wounded too much in his early years, and even with breathing techniques, he couldn’t stop the coughing.

"The intel from those bicycle soldiers yesterday was that there is an army of at least ten thousand; I suspect that is the main force of the Royal Court." As Jeska slowly advanced with several senior officers, he explained.

From Baron Town heading forward, Jeska directly aimed at Copper Hill Castle, forcing the nearby Royal Court main force to come for a decisive battle.

As per his intelligence analysis, the best gathering place for the Royal Court should be near Fertile Clam Town.

And the results of the Vanguard Corps’ reconnaissance showed there were vampire camps on the side of Fertile Clam Town.

If the enemy doesn’t attack, he will take Copper Hill Castle; if the enemy attacks, then it’s just right for a major battle.

Jeska, compared to André, didn’t have the ability to command on multiple fronts in vast spaces.

His style of warfare was still influenced by his traditional military education, with a relatively small battle area.

But relying on the unique command system of the Holy Alliance Army, he could still gain great advantages in large-scale battles and annihilate the opponent.

If André was like a soft rapier seeking your weak points in a roundabout way, causing continuous harm,

Then Jeska’s command style was more like a crude straight sword, slashing continuously until the shield is split open.

There’s not much fuss, straightforward, yet unavoidable.

Dass, who was supposed to be on equal footing with Jeska, at this moment seemed like a student riding behind Jeska: "Do you really think so?"

"Do you have a different opinion?" Jeska lowered his head and looked back at him.

Dass hesitated for a moment: "Maybe we should let the bicycle riders make another detour behind enemy lines; I think they will try to threaten a flank rather than focus on a decisive battle."

"No, it will slow the progress." Jeska vetoed, his eyes blazing as he stared at Dass, "You cannot speculate on the vampires’ behavior like that; they’re not like the Imperial human army. Vampires are more stubborn than humans."

Dass pursed his lips, riding in silence for a while, then spoke again: "So how are we fighting this time?"

"You take two infantry regiments from the northern line to block the stragglers and retreat at Night Cry Gorge, then lend me one infantry regiment and one cavalry regiment, I will break through from the front."

Normally, Jeska should neither freely mobilize troops from Dass nor direct Dass’s actions.

But clearly, he did so anyway.

After all, in most people’s eyes, Dass was the Pope’s relative, who rose through nepotism as a second-rate general.

Jeska didn’t dislike Dass; their private relationship wasn’t bad, but he needed to ensure victory on the battlefield.

As for Dass, he was the questionable factor on the battlefield.

In terms of execution, Jeska trusted Dass’s ability, but in terms of decision-making, he dare not let Dass act rashly.

Dass clearly knew this.

The old Jeska, who often drank and made merry with him, viewed him this way, making it really uncomfortable for him.

Most importantly, it wasn’t just the old Jeska; even the battle commanders around him trusted the old Jeska more than him.

After all, old Jeska in the Holy Alliance was a God of War level figure, second only to Saint Jeanne and the Saint’s Grandson.

Holy Father can testify, since he joined the army in 1444, the battles he has fought in number and size are not less than Jeska’s.

Many times, he could even directly advise Horn and be adopted, and on the battlefield achieve good results.

He had fought for twenty years, accumulating many achievements, yet he still couldn’t gain trust.

Could it be that the Pope’s relatives are inherently incompetent?

Alas, he really didn’t know when he could remove the label "Pope’s relative" from himself.

By now, Dass sometimes doubted whether he was qualified to be the commander of the army at all.

"Lord Dass, from this side road, you can head south first, then north, to jointly attack the enemy with us."

As if sensing Dass’s despondency, Jeska slowed his horse’s pace: "I’m old, this is your first time commanding so many troops, you can take it step by step, there’s still plenty of time."

"Hmm." Dass forced a smile, "I know."

At the fork in the road, leaving behind two regiments, Dass led the remaining two infantry regiments and some bicycle soldiers south.

The following morning, just after Jeska woke up, he received news that Cold Spring Castle’s first regiment was engaging the enemy.

He was increasingly certain that he was indeed facing the vampires’ main force, and there were quite a number of them.

Throwing on a coat, without even buttoning it, Jeska strode out of the tent.

He waved away the morning fog with a frown as several officers, clad in gray coats, rushed over.

"How many enemies is Cold Spring Castle’s first regiment facing roughly?"

"Probably a detachment of the enemy army, around ten thousand."

"The commander of Cold Spring Castle’s first regiment is Steve, right? How much force does he command?"

"Yes, Steve, sir." The staff officer hurried over, "He commands a total of eight regiments, including three veteran regiments and five new regiments, equipped with..."

"Enough." Jeska immediately ordered, "Can we now confirm this is the enemy’s main force?"

"Yes, if not in Fertile Clam Town, then they would have to retreat starving, I can’t think of a reason they’re not going to Fertile Clam Town." The officer even had time for a touch of humor.

"Good, order Steve, his task is to repel the Royal Court army outside Fertile Clam Town, seize advantageous villages and terrain to earn us deployment space."

"Yes, sir."

Quickly, Jeska’s orders were broken down, marked on the map, and then distributed to the messengers, who rode bicycles and horses to deliver them.

Only then did one of the subordinates suddenly exclaim: "Lord Jeska, why aren’t you wearing boots."

Everyone looked down, discovering Jeska was only wearing socks, standing in the snow directing.

"Get me a pair of boots." Jeska sat on a millstone, deftly putting on the boots as if his frozen toes weren’t his, "Don’t start a fire, have breakfast immediately after, and then set out!"