One day at the end of March, Duke Winford, François, who was at the pinnacle of the Saint-level, woke up early.
The heavy snow outside the tent made François very irritated. Laing's father-in-law couldn't help but regret the way he urged the army to march. François, who was used to fighting in Brittany, really didn't expect to encounter such strange weather. First, there was the sudden rise in temperature. The ground melted and became extremely muddy. The logistics became intermittent.
Then there was the sudden drop in temperature and heavy sleet. The cold and extremely harsh environment made the southern Brittany army, who was used to the warm and humid environment, feel very uncomfortable. Some people fell sick, some deserted, and many soldiers would rather sit around the fire all day than move.
The logistics couldn't arrive for a long time, and the army didn't prepare strong alcohol to resist the cold. François found himself in a dilemma. Although his army hadn't completely lost their ability to fight, their morale was low and their fighting spirit was low.
After washing up and washing his face, François ate something casually. He patrolled the camp slightly, his brows furrowed.
The army was stationed in the forest. The soldiers gathered around the fire in groups of three to five. The knights were wolfing down food. Many people were arranging horse feed for the war horses and workhorses. François frowned after observing for a while. The feed wasn't good enough. This caused the war horses to lose weight.
Of course, François still had a very strong reputation. Everyone knew of his strength, his glorious deeds, and his identity as His Majesty Laing's father-in-law. Seeing him appear, everyone greeted him, "My Duke, good morning!"
"My Lady, a new day has begun."
"Your Grace! Have a good day. "
"Ha ha ha …" François touched his long goatee elegantly. He smiled at the group of soldiers huddled around the fire. "Soldiers, how's the food?"
"It's okay."
"It's okay."
"It's not so good, my Duke." The freedmen soldiers also answered casually. François and Suria were the same. They didn't put on airs with the freedmen and were willing to interact more with the ordinary soldiers and talk to them.
"It'll get better. There'll be bread and milk." François learned a sentence from Laing to deal with the soldiers. Then the old Duke asked again, "Did you sleep well at night?"
This point received a relatively unanimous response. Thanks to Berliat's advice and information, the Brittany army had prepared very warm double-layered winter coats. Although the soldiers were very cold and some were frostbitten, there was basically no situation where they would freeze to death.
The army still maintained its discipline and chivalry was still working.
However, François couldn't bring himself to smile on his face. As soon as the old Duke turned around, his expression became very serious. he spoke to his servant. "Where is Jerk? Quickly find him, and that Semyon … what's his name again? "
"Semyon Alexandrovich Rumyantsev," the servant added. This Mrs. Kiesler used to be an officer of the vanguard cavalry near Örengrád. She fled to Auster and survived the Battle of Wolfenburg. When she heard that the chivalrous Brittany was willing to continue the northern expedition to recover Kislöw, although she still had some doubts, many Mrs. Kiesler took the initiative to join the army of the Knight King. Semyon Alexandrovich Rumyantsev volunteered to be François's guide for the second army.
"Oh right, Rumyantsev. Kislöw's name is so hard to remember." François nodded.
The old Duke didn't plan to march today. He returned to the tent and looked at the map with a worried expression.
François knew that he was a little rash, but as a knight commander who had seen many battles, and the famous Holy Grail who defeated the Necromancer Heinrich Kaimler twice, how could François be a military idiot?
He had his own reasons for making this choice.
First, he was indeed a little anxious to prove himself. As a reserve, he and his army missed several epic victories, including the Battle of the Swamp of Pain, the great Battle of the Three Kings, the Battle of Herzig, and the Battle of Wolfenburg. This made François feel that he was a little overshadowed by the "younger generation", so he was anxious to win a battle and let everyone know that he didn't fight to the end to take the credit.
Second, after the rash advance, François also thought about whether to stop for a while and wait for reinforcements and logistics, but military reports quickly came to him. Lauen's First Army on the west defeated several Norska gangs near Lowitz Castle, and Berchemund's Third Army on the east defeated the remnants of the Nurgle army in the ruins of Kaganov town.
In other words, François's flanks were very safe. This gave the old man enough confidence to continue the march, and also made him more eager to win a battle.
However, the old man still underestimated the extreme weather of Kislöw. The power of Marshal Winter made his army suffer because of the overly long supply line.
"Never attack Kislöw in winter."
— The Empire and Mrs. Kiesler's conclusion after hundreds of years of territorial wars before the great Holy War.
Now François found himself in a dilemma. If he retreated, his prestige would be damaged, and it would seem that he had no achievements in this great expedition. If he advanced, it would be difficult, and he might even be in danger of being destroyed.
The old man looked at the map and thought for a long time. The old man crazily thought of all possible directions.
After thinking for a while, Jerrold finally came in from outside. Winford's shoulders, cloak, helmet, and robe were all covered in snow. He took off his helmet, and his face was full of wind and frost. "Duke, the situation is not good!"
"I sent someone to call you. Why are you only here now?" François turned around with some displeasure. Suria's platinum hair was obviously inherited from François, and the old man's deep sea blue eyes were full of wisdom. "What happened?"
"It's an epidemic, my duke. A disease has spread in the army. Some people have caught a cold, some have a bad fever, and some have typhoid and measles. Fear is spreading in the army," Jerrold said anxiously. "We must take action immediately."
"Isolate all the sick first. Damn it!" The old man slapped the table angrily.
Jerrold took the order and left. François suppressed his anger and tried not to vent it on the servants and the others. He reached into the suitcase and took out a bottle of wine, only to find that the wine had frozen. He cursed, "Ladies above!" and had to find another suitcase.
There was a special supply of "Grey Goose" vodka from Berliat in the suitcase. The white liquid in the glass bottle was crystal clear. After drinking a mouthful of the strong liquor, François felt like a fire was burning in his chest, making him feel much better. The old duke immediately ordered a large amount of vodka prepared by Berliat to be distributed to the soldiers and knights.
Some time later, when Francois was still wondering when the patrols would bring back news, a Madame Kiesler was brought into the tent. He was a strong man with a beard, a dog-skin hat on his head, and a thick double-layered winter coat on his body. "My Duke!" said the Madame Kiesler.
"Lu … Rumyantsev?" François thought for a while before he remembered the man's name. "I won't say too much. To put it simply, we're in trouble."
"Yes, my duke." The cavalry officer bowed. "And I'm here to solve the problem."
"You have the ability to solve our current problem?!" Francois immediately turned around. Even someone as calm as Francois couldn't help but feel surprised when he heard the news. "Really?"
"I may not be able to solve all the problems, but I found a contact mark for Kislöw in a hidden camp in the depths of the forest," the cavalry officer said respectfully. "There are still Kislev's survivors in the forest. They've hidden themselves and formed a few well-hidden camps. Perhaps they can help us."
"How can they help us?" François asked.
"There's a wise woman among them who can help us solve the threat of the plague. They also have some excellent scouts and hunters who can help us move better in the forest. Perhaps they also have some supplies that can solve our urgent problem." Rumyantsev said sincerely. "My duke, it's not that easy to solve the threat of Chaos. We have to work together."
A wise woman?
François thought for a while and quickly made a decision.
"Buy two sets of goods! Bring enough gold coins. I'll personally ask for their help! "
Two hours later, in the snow-covered coniferous forest, the twenty or so knights of the Champion Knights' Brotherhood under the personal leadership of François came to the depths of the forest that was almost impossible to pass through.
Behind the twenty or so knights were two large carriages filled with gifts.
The atmosphere was very quiet. Only the sound of snow falling from the sky could be heard. The wind blew through the coniferous forest, and strange sounds could be heard. The knights were very nervous. Many of them reached for the hilts of their swords.
The guide Rumyantsev carefully identified a few engravings in hidden places. After he confirmed it several times, he shouted in a direction.
"Привет!"
No one responded.
Rumyantsev thought for a moment and shouted again, "Привет?"
After a long while, an archer wearing a white cloak finally appeared from the snow. "Ктотатакой?"
Rumyantsev and the archer exchanged a few words.
In the end, the archer said, "Hello!" Then, more archers appeared in the forest.
The hidden camp gate was exposed. Two musketeers pointed their guns at the group of people.
"Old friend, open the gate! We're the Brittany Army! We're here to recover the fallen areas and expel the Army of Chaos! " François first expressed his friendliness. His father-in-law continued, "We're not taking anything from you, and we're even giving you gifts!"
"The Brittany Army?!" Mrs. Kiesler looked at each other in confusion. She slowly put down the bow in her hand. These people had heard of the Brittany Army. If it was someone from the Empire, they would definitely ask them to leave. But the Knight King had always prided themselves on being chivalrous and virtuous. They might really do that.
"Don't you remember our help to Örengrád?" François shouted. "We're here to help you recover your land from the Army of Chaos. But we're in trouble and need your help. Can you let us in?"
"I swear in the name of Essun that they're telling the truth. The Brittany Army really wants to help us recover our land!" Rumyantsev also said, "I swear on my life and my identity as the leader of the vanguard!"
The people in the camp discussed for a long time. Finally, the gate was opened.
François's group entered the camp under the watch of a few Kesa warriors and a group of Kislöw militia. There were about two to three hundred people in the camp. They obviously lacked sufficient clothing and nutrition, but their willpower was still strong.
A Kislöw noble appeared in front of François's group. He was obviously a priest of Essun, the Bear God. He had a wide forehead, beady eyes, a big nose, thin lips, and a very stern expression. He held a battle axe in his hand and rode on a giant bear.
"Greetings, Holy Grail from Brittany. I'm Vladimir, Vladimir Vladimirovich, a priest of Essun, former Councilor of Örengrád Duma and former deputy mayor of Örengrád. I'm now the leader of this camp."
"How may I help you?"
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