The hastily assembled Griffith Battle Group had not practiced together, the temporarily appointed commander was not familiar with the troops, and the combat effectiveness and characteristics of each unit were unknown.
Such an army, even if it is armed with the latest equipment and tactics, can only hold its position at most. It is impossible to defeat the main force of the rebels that can rival the legion in a face-to-face field battle.
Griffith circled a range on the map:
“This is a rebel-controlled area, and rushing into it rashly will only make Macdonald’s mistake the same.
"The organization and coordination of the army are in charge of Berthier and Lannes. During this period, I will find the weaknesses of the rebels and choose the battlefield.
"As for Macdonald, he'll just have to ask for his blessings."
The attendees listened in silence.
"But will it go so smoothly?" Warren Hayden asked at the scene.
The rebels in Verona came and went without a trace like ghosts. The regular army chasing them wasted energy, morale and supplies in vain but could not find a chance for a decisive battle. In a hostile area, reconnaissance work became extremely dangerous. Often a perfect strategy is formulated, but there are no conditions for execution.
Griffith understands the concerns.
"Ophelia, please tell me."
Ophelia, who had not yet recovered from her injuries, left her seat. She still looked shaky, but her thinking was still clear and quick, and she immediately began to report:
"The rebels in Verona have strong mobility and are supported by local people. They help transport supplies, take care of the wounded, and gather intelligence about our army. This is something we do not have.
“However, these alone are not enough to constitute the combat power to defeat the Legion.
“According to the intelligence we collected during this period, the rebels had two stronger forces besides the army composed of spears and muskets.
"The first one is Gulam, a hybrid experimental force that was abandoned by the government. After the war in the east, they were helpless and gradually transformed into a mercenary force that relied on brotherhood. Regiment, serving Isius and the rebels.
"They paid a huge price to obtain power. Their bodies and extraordinary characteristics are very unstable, and they will collapse little by little even if they are left alone. Such a miserable group of people have simple sympathy and attraction for the local civilians, but after all, they are not the same."
At this point, Ophelia paused briefly. Berthier added: "The demands of ordinary rebel fighters and hybrid experimental subjects must be different, and we can find the differences between the two. Once they are divided, the rebels will lose important mysterious flanking power. Otherwise, we will Be prepared to deal with high-level mythical creatures.”
For example, let's say a dragon... Everyone here couldn't help but start talking about it.
"Order," Griffith tapped the table, "Ophelia, please continue."
Ophelia continued:
"The second force comes from the professional army composed of mercenaries, bandits and surrendered troops.
"The rebel forces are growing rapidly, and they cannot train advanced units such as cavalry and two-handed swordsmen in a short period of time just by recruiting new soldiers. During last year's war, many legion veterans joined them and became the core of the team.
"According to the intelligence we collected, many troops fighting in the rebel camp are dissatisfied with Xia Boyang's strict discipline. They are eager to rob and attack large towns, and are very resistant to fighting regular legions.
"To sum up, even if the rebels have many loyal and brave warriors like Loper, we can still find a gap..."
Ophelia was making a report when suddenly a messenger knocked on the door and came in, delivering an urgent report to Berthier.
The venue fell silent for a moment, and everyone stared at Berthier who opened the letter. The new chief of staff glanced quickly, raised his eyes, and said calmly:
"The Fourth Legion has collapsed, and the remaining troops are moving closer to the Twelfth Legion. The Senate ordered Verona to concentrate all its forces."
A thunderbolt struck the venue, leaving everyone speechless. Berthier handed the letter to Griffith as if nothing was wrong, saying that the urgent report was to be delivered to his hands.
In addition to the first sentence read by Berthier, there was another message in the emergency report——
"Xia Boyang will hold a meeting of each column tomorrow. All senior commanders will be present. The address is in the attachment. The meeting materials are with Viscount Sindra."
A simple map marked a small town not far from the camp General MacDonald had previously held. The sender and issuing address are unknown.
Griffith closed his eyes and thought for a moment.
The amount of information in this urgent report is quite large.
Some well-informed person wanted to invite me to a rebel convention. How could I, an officer from Beyelan, attend a meeting of senior rebel commanders? It seems that for some things, in addition to relying on self-strength, the process of history must also be taken into consideration!
This Viscount Sindra was the one who was defeated by Lancenis in the battle last year and lost all his army and territory. The meeting materials are with him. What is this meant to express...
"Do we need a new plan?" Seeing Griffith pondering, Ophelia asked inquiringly.
"No, no need for now," Griffith stood up, "Everyone continues their respective tasks. I will leave for some time. During this period, Berthier and Lana will act as command."
…
April 8, 1445, Second Age.
The Verona rebels, who had nearly annihilated the 4th Beyeran Army and its auxiliaries, established their headquarters in a small town in the valley. Since early morning, horse teams have been coming from all over the place, passing through the camps of tens of thousands of troops and heading towards the inner camp.
Viscount Sindra was also among them.
Since his defeat last year, he took some troops and fled to the rebel side in order to avoid punishment. Nominally, he is the commander of a brigade of rebels; in fact, he and other surrendered nobles and surrendered troops are grabbing territory from their former neighbors.
However, he was unlucky. After joining the rebels, his troops were sent to block Beyeran's 12th Army and suffered heavy losses.
Most of the Viscount's army was wiped out. He only had two guards with him and was thinking about what to say later.
Suddenly, a knight in black robes came from the nearby woods on horseback and shouted loudly.
"who?"
The guards immediately drew their sabers and stood in front of the viscount. I saw the galloping knight riding a strong black horse, and the outline of the heavy armor under the black robe was clearly visible.
Is this a vigilant sentry? Such a ferocious and dark aura must not be ordinary. Sindrazi put his hand on the scabbard vigilantly and responded to the knight:
"Sindra, commander of the 2nd Brigade of the 5th Column."
Xia Boyang's army set up police posts along the way. The Viscount had already passed the fourth and fifth floors of patrols and sentry inspections along the way, and there were also patrolling cavalry nearby. The viscount raised his whip and pointed:
"We are going to meet Generalissimo Xia Boyang right now.
"How far is it from their headquarters?"
"I don't know either."
The Black Knight groaned hoarsely, not like a human voice.
The Viscount felt as if a rusty saw was tearing at his ears. Before he could draw his sword, a pale bone sickle flew out of the dense forest beside the road, penetrated the neck of a guard and took off his horse; before the other guard had time to shout, a black shadow flashed behind him And passed.
In the blink of an eye, Viscount Sindra's two guards were killed before they even had time to grunt. The Viscount was about to scream in shock, but his throat was suddenly strangled.
what happened? I was breathless, and the Vicomte was clawing at his throat frantically, trying to remove the noose-like suffocation. However, the invisible power, uneasiness and fear seemed to have grown out of his body and had eroded his whole body.
The Black Knight came to the Viscount's side, reached out and patted his face like an old friend.
The Viscount's heart suddenly tightened. Under the dark hood, there seemed to be no human face. Only the jet-black ink-like liquid was flowing.
"Who are you?!"
Just as the Viscount was about to shout, he felt a sharp pain in his waist. A dagger pierced his unprotected waist and abdomen, and the sharp pain tightened his heart.
The pain is so painful that it blurs consciousness. In the white trance, Viscount Sindra could not scream or break away. The inhuman liquid under the black hood is squirming and taking shape.
The Vicomte saw his face in the shadow. Pale, weak, with a face full of disgust for the world.
"Uh, uh..." The Viscount wanted to question, but was speechless. He could feel himself like a trapped bug, his internal organs and flesh melting, and then being sucked out bit by bit.
A few minutes later, Griffith, who had become exactly like the Viscount, patted his cloak and moved his hands and feet. The appearance, voice and demeanor were all recreated on Griffith through the magic potion. However, it cannot master the other party's memory and can only do limited imitation.
At his feet lay a twisted mass of shriveled corpses, with no human form clearly visible.
Minos consumed the essence of the corpses of Viscount Sindra and the guardsmen, leaving behind a residue that looked like chewed sugar cane. Griffith took a bottle of dark blue potion from the saddle and poured it carefully onto the wreckage. The highly corrosive agent immediately charred the remaining skin and flesh, and dissipated into the air when blown by the wind.
The "Viscount" packed up the remaining belongings, looked through the documents, took away the horses, and moved on. The rebels' inner camp was right in front, and there were no obstacles along the way.
This place does not look like an army headquarters, but more like a lively market. As he passed an ornate tent, Griffith heard shouts and curses.
A group of people were gathering inside for a meeting.
"After all," someone shouted in a hoarse voice, "after all, we tens of thousands of heroes are not just sheep at the mercy of the shepherd!"
"Yes, he is nothing without us?" a voice echoed loudly, "He is just the most ordinary person...a librarian. When we followed the Lightning King across Verona, he was still in Old Town Have a small life!"
"My heroes and I did not join the rebel army to hide in the mountains of Sophia. I swear to the great storm god! ... I swear, we will never go!"
Griffith walked into the camp and found many rebel officers gathered here.
Standing in the center, calling out was Don Joseph, the commander of the fifth column of the rebel army, a twisted and corrupted spellcaster.
Another clergyman named Anthony Green fully supported Joseph's opinion. He himself was the commander of a newly formed column and the commander of three thousand recruits who were being trained nearby:
"Master Crozier's opinion, if you ask me, is absolutely correct. Is he there... Hey, who did I see? Isn't this Master Syndra? It's great to see you. We all thought you had already He suffered misfortune with his own army."
"I have no army anymore," Griffith said in the voice of a viscount, frustrated. "They were either wiped out by the river by the 12th Army of Bayerland, or they were driven into the river and drowned."
The tragic news was met with an outpouring of sympathy.
"Poor friend! You are the victim of Xia Boyang's escape route and rebellion. Now we fully understand," Don Joseph said with a sad face. His expressions were so spot-on that the actors in Old Town could not fault him.
Griffith accepted their kindness with an embarrassed smile.
What's amazing is that most of the rebel commanders here were once enemies of Viscount Syndra, and many of them raided his territory. The other part is the local nobles who once fought with the viscount against the previous group of people.
Most people's expressions were surprisingly consistent, and they expressed condolences one after another, as if the past had never happened at all.
"Chiefs, I speak in the name of freedom and equality!" a strong commander shouted in a thunderous voice. "Is Xia Boyang really a traitor? Hey, this is too much, too much!"
The voice was so loud that Griffith immediately looked away.
Among a group of strong and sturdy warriors, he saw a commander named Hart Orwell.
This man was well-equipped, carrying a two-handed giant sword and a long bow on his back, and had a resolute face. He was clearly a regular knight. When Griffith's eyes moved over, Hart Orwell's eyes also fell on the false Viscount.
Before the knight who had defected to the rebels could finish his words, another woman with wheat-colored skin shouted in the crowd:
"I got the news that Beyeran is mobilizing the army! This is absolutely true. I, Palali Rabindra, guarantee with the honor of the demon hunter that as soon as we enter the mountainous area, Beyeran will re-enter the mountainous area." Occupy this place and send more knights to be the lords here."
"This must not be tolerated!" a large group of commanders shouted together, "We will never give up our land."
"That's right, comrades," the fallen wizard Joseph raised his hands and shouted in a very contagious voice, "Xia Boyang is going to take us to the mountains. What is there except rocks? There are no patches of farmland. How much. When we get there, not to mention equipment and weapons, even food will be a problem.
"Byelan's army is waiting for us to go there. They only need to seal the valley with one-tenth of their troops, and we will be trapped inside!"
"traitor!"
The tent was boiling like a pot. The voices of Hart Orwell and the minority were completely silenced.
"We're going east, to fight Oldtown, to fight Bayerland!"
Joseph said with satisfaction: "Yes, he is a traitor. His accomplices are farmers and sheepherders. They made up lies and described the already vulnerable Beyelan as an unshakable giant. They wanted to destroy us. Betrayed to the Beyelan Senate.”
"They are all traitors, and everyone who wants to lead us to the Sofia Mountains to the west is a traitor!"
"Fight Beyelan! We must go to Beyeland!"
More than a dozen people shouted in unison:
"Fight to Bijlan!...Fight to Bijelan!..."
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