Chapter 269: A War to Destroy a Nation!

Walking silently among the houses that were charred by the fire, Horn accidentally stepped on the carbonized bones.

He squatted down and gently stroked the ground. There was still a faint residual heat from the ground. A few dark red sparks fell from the house which was only left with a wooden frame.

In the spring breeze, the bodies of the Crusader members hung on the burnt-black trees, swaying in the wind.

The five men were stripped naked, a “屮” character was cut on their foreheads with a knife, and their eyes were gouged out, leaving only bloody holes.

On the chest and belly, the words "Be thankful, farmer" and "The fate of the betrayer" were written in bloody French letters with a knife.

Three crows stood on their shoulders and tore bits of flesh from their faces with their grey beaks.

Having lost the protection of Meliati and become accomplices of the short-haired devil, these demons who looked like knights once again revealed their true faces.

"This is the third village, right?" Horn's voice was emotionless as he stroked the ruins.

"Yes," said Madeleine, uttering the word between her teeth.

"Have you found any survivors?"

"We found fifteen survivors in the vegetable cellar, all of them children and teenagers."

In the thick smoke that had not yet dissipated, a dozen young boys, both young and old, lined up in a neat queue, numbly and staggeringly moving towards the carriage.

Starting from the 26th, these despicable extraordinary knights began to launch raids and massacres against the people under their rule.

They were quite careful, prepared a large number of rangers, and only took the main roads.

Horn prepared several times but failed to ambush them, only killing and wounding a few rangers.

The survivors of the three villages all gathered in Gray Furnace Town, but this time, Horn insisted on coming and seeing for himself.

"Your Majesty, we have to leave quickly, otherwise we will be caught by those rangers from Jeanne d'Arc and it will be very troublesome."

"Let's go." Horn's dull voice sounded again.

As he climbed onto the horse, pulling the saddle, he could feel the gloomy expressions on the faces of the people around him.

Horn knew that his face looked depressed, but he couldn't be happy.

In the setting sun, the last house collapsed in the burning village.

Horn lowered his head and walked along the country path without saying a word until a loud shouting was heard.

"Hey, what are you going to do?"

"Grizzi, come down quickly!"

Looking in the direction where the sound came from, Horn saw a young man who could hardly stand on a hill beside the road.

His left arm was severed at the elbow and had just been wrapped in gauze, but it was still bleeding.

Bright red blood fell drop by drop on the green grass.

His face was pale, his cheeks and eye sockets were sunken, but his eyes were so bright that they seemed like they would pop out at any second.

He raised his right hand high, in which he held a thin branch with a large smock tied to it.

The smock, which had belonged to his father, was blackened by smoke and had a large bloodstain running down the top.

The corners of his mouth turned down, his upper teeth had bitten his lower lip until it turned purple, and his whole body was shaking.

He sounded like he was crying and roaring hoarsely, and the sound seemed to be seeping out from hellfire.

"The Savior Army wins!"

With no one to accompany him or respond to him, the young man named Grizzle kept waving the flag in his hand in the sunset like a madman, repeating the same tune over and over again in his hoarse voice.

"The Savior Army wins!"

"The Savior Army wins!"

"The Savior Army wins!"

The roars from the crying continued to echo behind Horn, piercing his back like thorns.

"The Savior Army wins!"

The shouting continued from the village until Horn returned to Ashforge.

Even when he sat in front of the assembled Salvation Army leaders, he could still hear such shouts in his ears. "The intelligence we have obtained so far is that the Extraordinary Knights have formed a Glory Cavalry Team to ride and plunder the villages where the Crusaders are located.

According to the situation in Joan of Arc, there are currently three forces in the city, namely the Frankish Royal Knights, the Church and the Royal Company.

There are 500 Royal Knights, but 150 of them have fled to Kasha County, so there are only 350 of them now.

They had tried to communicate with us before, saying that as long as we didn't attack the Frankish merchants passing by, they would not attack us, and they were even willing to sell us weapons and food."

"Is it credible?" asked Jeshka, frowning.

"We can't be sure. We'd better keep an eye on it." Armand shook his head. "Your Majesty, what do you think? Your Majesty?"

"Do you think we are ready?" This was the first sentence Horn said as he looked around at the people in front of him.

At this moment, all the top leaders of the Papal States and the Salvation Army were present, about twenty of them in total, but they looked at each other and no one responded.

This was a habit they had long developed. Whether it was the Long Sweat Road or Autumn Dusk Island, Horn made all the decisions.

They had experienced numerous crises, and they had all been overcome with the help of this saintly grandson in front of them.

Many of them, many "smart people" saw through Horn's tricks from the beginning, but they just needed Horn to unite people and take responsibility.

After taking on responsibilities, making decisions, and getting out of crises time and time again, Horn has become the true "Holy Grandson" and "Eye of God" in their hearts.

To put it in Horn's hometown dialect, it means "To bear the disgrace of the country is to be the master of the country."

"The weapons have been repaired, but the armor is not ready yet?" Armand asked tentatively, "and the phosphorus stone and concentrated wine you asked us to prepare have not yet been mobilized."

Horn still didn't speak. He looked around and everyone was still looking at him.

He suddenly laughed.

Look at these bishops, Madeleine is a fugitive baker, Armand is a monk from Yonbi, Grandpuven is a clown, and Chilvers is a bootlegger.

As for the legion commanders, Jeshka and Hakuto are both wanted criminals, Coleman is a vagrant who carries bags at the dock, Victor is a shepherd, Monse is a dung collector, and Rudilo is a rogue gangster.

As for Horn himself, he is a farmer who acts crazy with his peasant sister Jeanne.

Horn couldn't help but think that if it weren't for him, Madeleine would have been executed by the church, and Frick and Tange would probably not have died.

Armand will starve to death in Moulin Rouge Village, Grandpeven and Chilvis will still be part of the refugee army, but Townley will live a good life.

As for these legion commanders, their lives might not be as good as they are now, but they would not be as dangerous as they are now.

If it were when they first met, in the current situation, Madeleine would be obsessed with going to Cassia County, Armand would follow Cosset in a daze, Grandpeven might join the uprising in Rapid City, and Chilvius would most likely escape.

The Papal States at the time, including Horn himself, were vermin, a "state" composed of cowards, scheming rogues, and timid peasants.

For their small Papal State, every battle was a war of annihilation, and they had to mobilize the entire country, as if they were moving forward in a muddle.

This shabby little boat with numerous flaws and leaks has now turned into a warship with 60,000 subjects and 5,000 soldiers.

The encounters in life are truly the result of the joint advancement of personal struggle and historical progress.

"From the beginning to now, when have we ever been ready?" Horn stood up and smiled at everyone present. "We often fought wars to annihilate nations before, but which war were we ready for? Aren't we just being forced into it?
It’s better to say the opposite: if you feel that there is nothing to prepare, that is a sign of failure, because there is no perfection.

Our enemies are 300 of the most elite Imperial Knights, 100 Country Knights, 120 Temple Knights, more than 300 armored sergeants and more than 3000 Night Guards.

It is even possible to add another 350 Franks of the Royal Knights.

But as I predicted before, if we don't fight, what awaits us is only Jeanne d'Arc Castle turning into a fiery hell.

This is a battle from which we cannot retreat. We have no way to retreat, no help, and no rope bridge that can drown so many knights!
We may be able to use all our strategies, pick the right battlefield, and choose the right date, but in the end, we will have to face it head-on.”

Gently stroking the walnut table, Horn stared at everyone with his burning eyes.

“Everyone sitting here today, including me, may die, because we are facing more than 500 extraordinary knights and nearly 3500 infantrymen.

But I don't ask if the weapons are ready, or if the phosphorus stone and wine are ready.
Now, I just have one question, are you ready?"

After a short but long silence, the benches and stools were moved around, and everyone present stood up one after another.

Before they knew it, the planks of the leaky boat had grown into solid oak boards, and the long sail had been woven from linen into canvas.

"We are ready!"

(End of this chapter)