Chapter 685: Crossing the River

On the road leading east from the Duke’s Territory Manda, a large number of soldiers formed a long queue, winding their way like a giant snake.

The 3rd Infantry Battalion of the Army of Arda was traveling lightly under Schroeder’s orders to a stronghold called Fort Silvermoon.

Schroeder, on the other hand, led the main force and supply wagons at a slower pace and would arrive later.

According to the intelligence, Silvermoon Fortress was gathering a large number of the kingdom’s defeated soldiers, which might be used by the Aldar army.

Battalion Commander Joyce was riding his horse and pondering over the defense strategy, but the halt of the troops ahead interrupted his thoughts.

“Why did you stop advancing, what happened up ahead?”

A soldier came to report, “Battalion Commander, there’s only one bridge over the river ahead, but it’s already crowded with refugees and we can’t get through.”

Joyce frowned tightly, how did he run into this kind of thing.

So he raised his whip and gave his horse’s ass a smack, steering his horse towards the river.

Before he had even arrived, he passed large groups of refugees.

Refugees from the east, old and young, carefully carrying their few belongings with them, entered the boundaries of the Northwest Gulf in fear and trepidation.

Some had already been ravaged by war, some of their suffering coming from the orcish armies, some from the chaos of the kingdom.

Others had planned ahead, and began to move before the battle approached.

Judging by their tired faces, they had all had a less than wonderful journey.

Joyce rode down to the river’s edge, where a dark mass of people still gathered on the opposite bank, all waiting – or perhaps scrambling would be more appropriate – to cross the only wooden bridge.

The more you entered the bridge the more chaotic it became, with bickering, pushing, shoving, fighting, and crying, making the already unpleasant passage even more inefficient.

Joyce was getting anxious; if he let this go on, his army would have to wait until tomorrow to cross the river.

It seemed from the map that there was only one bridge here.

Anxiously, he noticed that on this side of the bridge there was a group of knights maintaining order, commanding them was a man dressed as a noble.

Joyce loped over and removed his own hat.

“Good afternoon sir, Lieutenant Colonel Joyce of the Army of Arda salutes you.”

“This damn river!”

The aristocratic man cursed harshly through a throat that had been shouted until it was hoarse, but he quickly reacted and turned to look at Joyce.

“You are the lieutenant colonel of the …… Arda army? Sorry, I was cursing that river just now.”

His tone took on a bit of caution.

“Joyce …… Lieutenant Colonel, I am the local lord Viscount Jephson Rossi, it is an honor to meet you.”

Viscount Rossi was about forty or so years old, with a slim figure and a delicate eight-bearded face, looking civilized.

He spread his hands out with a helpless expression, “Just now, your men have already said that the army has to pass through this river immediately, but you have also seen this current situation.”

“Viscount, I have to remind you.” Joyce said seriously, “The longer we stay here, the closer the orc army will get to your territory, and we must snatch them before tragedy strikes.”

Viscount Rossi’s demeanor was devastated, “Lieutenant Colonel, of course I know this, all the knights under my command have been deployed here to maintain order, just to let you pass quickly.”

“No, that’s not enough!”

Joyce suggested, “Have those on the other side of the river who are pushing their way to the bridge stop at once, and those who supposedly haven’t crossed yet wait on the spot until we’ve passed before they do so.”

“But ……” Viscount Rossi glanced at the throng, “they are so irrational now that no amount of persuasion will help.”

Hearing this, Joyce frowned and stared across the river for a moment.

“Lord Viscount.” Joyce reached out and pointed to a row of things not far away, “See that one? Do you know what that is?”

Although it was covered in cloth, Viscount Rossi recognized it.

He gulped, “That seems to be what …… Alda calls ‘artillery’?”

“Yes, Lord Viscount.” Joyce said, “The orders I received were to reach the predetermined location within the predetermined time, and I will remove any obstacles in order to accomplish the mission.”

His tone took on a hint of coldness, “If this bridge is still jammed with refugees in another hour, then I will clear a path with my artillery.”

“You …… you can’t do that!” Viscount Rossi was shocked by Joyce’s words, “They are all the kingdom’s subjects.”

“I’m doing this to stop a greater tragedy!”

Joyce’s gaze was like a torch, producing a feeling in Viscount Rossi’s mind-this rash man would do it.

“Just a moment, please!”

He immediately turned and ran to his group of knights. “There’s no need to keep evacuating, immediately tell them to give up the bridge, Huey, Duane, get a few more guys to swim across to the other side and tell the people that the army is going to cross the river, and for those who haven’t gotten on the bridge yet, stay where you are and don’t move.”

“But ……” said the leading knight, with some difficulty, “will they be so obedient?”

“Then beat them into submission!”

Viscount Rossi suddenly let out a shout.

“It’s better to take a beating than to be blown to pieces.”

“Aye aye!”

The knight hurried off to find someone.

Joyce and a group of other officers waited anxiously for the results by the river.

Those already on the bridge continued to pass, but there was a sudden commotion in the crowd on the opposite side, and it was evident that the lord’s orders had been passed on.

The crowd, which had been dense, began to grow loose, and the entrance to the bridge was at once empty.

“Bugler, blow the horn and gather, we’ll cross the river here!”

With the bridge finally free of obstacles, the 3rd Infantry Battalion quickly crossed the wooden bridge to the other side of the river and continued on to the east.

By the time the next day rolled around, they finally arrived at the destination of their trip, Fort Silvermoon.

Only then did they realize that the so-called Fortress of Silvermoon had been deserted and only a broken wall remained.

Trying to rely on this abandoned fortress to defend against the orcs was obviously impossible.

Retreat?

No, both sides of Silvermoon Castle were lush and vicious forests, only through here could one continue to the northwest bay, one had to hold this place, one could not give it up to the enemy.

Joyce had once been Schroeder’s squire, he had sworn not to dishonor his knight, and he himself must assist him in winning the battle.

At that moment, the scouts came to report.

“A large number of troops have appeared ahead! I don’t know if it’s a routed army or an orc’s servant army, another hour and they’ll crash into us.”

“What? That fast?”

The entire 3rd Battalion’s officers and soldiers were in chaos.

“Don’t be afraid!” Joyce snapped, “Everyone just play according to their usual training.”

Under his strict supervision, the crowd quickly stabilized and quickly took up positions – three rows of formation in front, back, and center.

Just like that, they quietly waited for the enemy to come to their door.