Chapter 155: Racing Against Time

September 14th, evening.

In the Old World, Britannia, within the Adenson Forest outside Yulsen Castle, the knightly army's camp was facing a growing food supply crisis. Marquis Anxi ordered all food to be confiscated and then distributed according to a set quota, causing grumblings among the soldiers. While the knights could still eat their fill, the serfs were left with only thin porridge, further lowering the army's morale.

Even with such measures, the knightly army's food supplies were running critically low.

Conversely, despite heavy losses, the orcs, fueled by the castle's ample provisions, maintained high spirits.

Normally, orcs suffer from a lack of food reserves. Without sufficient food to satisfy their endless hunger and bloodlust, the orc hordes risked internal conflict, with the strongest Doom Bulls and marked Great Horns even attempting to challenge the Beast King.

Now, the food intended for the knightly army had been consumed by the orcs, these omnivorous creatures of chaos devouring everything.

Inside the main tent, Marquis Anxi could directly sense the low morale among knights and serfs. After much hesitation, he picked up the magical communicator: "This is Anxi-Desmond, Gabriel? Please report your situation?"

"This is Gabriel-De-Bastogne. We have advanced deep into the Adenson Forest, about fifty kilometers from Demonrock!" Gabriel responded.

The right army was still unaware of the knightly army's plight.

Damn it! Marquis Anxi estimated the distance and realized it was impossible for the right army to come to their aid. They were at least one hundred and fifty kilometers away from Yulsen Castle, a journey of at least four to five days.

"What's happened, my Marquis?" Gabriel's voice came from the communicator.

Marquis Anxi's youthful and handsome face was clouded with gloom.

His army was in a predicament, yet he still had confidence in himself, believing he could still defeat the orc army and secure a face-saving victory.

The longstanding strained relations between Duke Bastogne Berchimond and King Richard, as well as between Duke Wintfort Francois and the king, had led Marquis Anxi to sideline them. Now, revealing the annihilation of the left army and the central army's hard struggle would damage both his own and the king's prestige.

Thinking of himself and the king, Marquis Anxi felt he couldn't let the right army know the current situation. After a pause, he said, "Nothing much, both Adelaide and I encountered ambushes and suffered significant losses, deciding to halt our advance. You may wait near Demonrock, and if we truly cannot regroup, you may retreat on your own."

"Understood, Lord Anxi. Do you need our support?" Gabriel, prepared for orc ambushes, did not think much of the ambushes on the left and central armies.

"No, just intercept any orc forces from Demonrock," Marquis Anxi put down the communicator, his eyes bloodshot. He knew they must defeat this orc force before their reinforcements arrived, or all would be lost.

"Order all to wake at 4 AM! We must take Yulsen Castle by tomorrow!"

"Yes!"

On September 15th, the knightly army launched a desperate attack on Yulsen Castle. Despite killing three Doom Bulls and four-armed demons, they were repelled by the orcs' fierce counterattack.

After another day of battle, over a hundred knights and two thousand serfs were lost, reducing the knightly army to less than thirteen thousand. Morale plummeted, with serfs fleeing into the forest.

The orcs, now reduced to over four thousand, consisted of the most elite units, including the Great Horn warbands, giant minotaurs, Chaos ogres, cyclopes, and the strongest Doom Bulls and four-armed demons. These creatures and their combat style were hardly reliant on the castle walls, stubbornly holding their positions.

Rumors spread among the knights, some suggesting retreat due to the lack of food, while others doubted the decision to appoint Marquis Anxi as the commander.

Under immense pressure, the young Marquis decided to commit all reserves, no longer guarding against potential orc reinforcements.

Victory or defeat hung in the balance.

...

A day later, deep in the Adenson Forest, the right army's camp.

Ryan took a nap in the afternoon before leaving the camp.

The forest had been unusually quiet, with the right army encountering no orc warbands, not even stray orcs, smoothly marching to about forty kilometers from Demonrock.

Breathing in the forest air, Ryan walked among the camps, boosting the soldiers' morale. With over four thousand nine hundred men and recent victories, spirits were high, especially after Ryan allowed hunting in the forest, providing even the lowliest serfs with roasted meat.

Now at the rendezvous point, about thirty kilometers from Demonrock, they arrived in the morning and set up camp.

But the silence was unsettling. They encountered no orcs or allies, as if abandoned by the world.

This was strange. After setting up camp, scouts had surveyed the surrounding kilometers, finding no trace of orcs or allies.

Without new orders, the right army could only wait.

"What kind of losses would prevent them from regrouping with us?" Ryan discussed with Gabriel, sitting in the vast forest.

"Losses of about ten to twenty percent," Gabriel nodded.

Knights are well-trained professionals, and soldiers are semi-professional infantry. Such losses are bearable for them, but not for the frail and poorly led serfs. Without knights to oversee them, serfs easily crumble, barely withstanding a single attack.

Unless led by a Grail Knight, serfs show little combat effectiveness and morale.

Military texts advise against continuing combat after ten to twenty percent losses, suggesting rest and morale maintenance.

Grail Knights are rare, with their numbers known only to the Lady of the Lake and the Green Knight. The outside world estimates three to five hundred Grail Knights, mostly guarding the Lady's sanctuaries. Their exact number and activities are mostly unknown, making Grail Knights a precious resource only deployed in severe crises.

This knightly war seemed more an opportunity for the kingdom's young knights to gain experience.

Without new scout reports, they could only wait.

"Sigh, nothing at all. It seems something significant has happened in this forest," Ryan said, stretching lazily.

...

Outside Yulsen Castle, amidst gunpowder smoke.

This was the third day of the knightly army's bitter siege, with only over three thousand orcs left in the castle. The knightly army, now halved and demoralized, saw desertions among soldiers and knights, urging Marquis Anxi to retreat.

"No! We cannot fail!" Marquis Anxi, covered in sweat and grime, roared at his knights, "I don't understand why we can't overcome them when they're trapped in that battered castle!"

His deputy, Pierre, bandaged and pleading, advised, "Lord Marquis, the remaining orcs are elites, and their combat style doesn't rely on walls. We've charged for days without success. It's time to retreat, my Lord."

Marquis Anxi, his once sleek golden hair now straw-like from neglect, weighed his options.

Retreating would allow the remaining ten thousand knights to escape the forest, sparing them from orc pursuit and preserving some vitality.

But the cost of defeat was too high. His title would likely be revoked, and he faced military tribunal. King Richard, having appointed his grand-nephew as commander, would also suffer prestige damage, likely ending Anxi's chances for future command.

His life would be ruined unless he could earn the Lady's forgiveness and complete the Grail Quest to become a Grail Knight.

But could he? Would the Lady forgive someone who led the knightly army to ruin?

If they didn't retreat and awaited orc reinforcements, the knightly army risked collapse, a fact clear to both Anxi and the orcs. But if they could defeat the orcs and behead the Beast King before reinforcements arrived, the war wouldn't be a complete failure.

Everyone was racing against time.

Ultimately, Anxi's adventurous spirit prevailed, and he resolved to lead another charge.

After a noon battle that lasted until 3 PM, the knights failed to break the orcs, with the Beast King personally repelling them.

As Anxi was forced to retreat, a haunting horn sounded from the forest depths.

It was the orc Warshaman "Hearteater" Groz, who had moved and hidden Demonrock, now leading the last elite orc forces to join the Beast King!

"Ah! Humans... your doom... is nigh!" With reinforcements, the orcs' morale soared.

The knights were despondent.

Soon, the exhausted, starving, and demoralized knightly army, caught between orc forces, collapsed and was trapped in a small valley by the river.

When Gabriel picked up the magical communicator, he heard Marquis Anxi's desperate plea.

"Right army! Right army! This is Anxi-Desmond! The knightly army is surrounded by orcs, suffering heavy losses. We need your support, we need your support!"

With tensions rising, I'm forced to write "continued below" often, a necessity to avoid censorship. Please understand if my book is abruptly cut off.

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