Chapter 48: The Battle of Ireland (4)

Aside from the main battlefield, another intense battle was raging.

"Push them back, quickly!"

Little Roches had completely forgotten his previous ambitions, watching the battlefield with a serious expression as he commanded the warriors. The projectiles and stray arrows flying across the battlefield didn't affect him at all; he didn't even blink.

When John's main forces went out to fight, Little Roches noticed that the knights inside Dendram Castle began to stir restlessly.

From that moment, he understood why John had assigned him to stay here.

Halfway through the battle outside the city, the knights within Dendram Castle began to move. They opened the city gates, attempting to seize this opportunity to regain control of Dendram Port.

However, as soon as they left the castle, they collided with the soldiers Little Roches had arranged.

A defensive line composed of wealthy citizens and knights blocked them, while other citizens, either from behind or standing on rooftops, bombarded the enemy with arrows, javelins, and even various strange projectiles.

Although there were more knights inside Dendram Castle, their numerical advantage couldn't unfold in the narrow streets, giving Little Roches a significant opportunity.

Citizens stationed in the streets did everything they could to harm the enemy in various ways.

With such a combined effort, the knights rushing out of Dendram Castle faced a head-on attack. They quickly found their numbers dwindling while the opponents seemed to grow.

"Knights! Citizens!" Little Roches encouraged his soldiers, "Victory is within our reach!"

The knights blocked at the gates of Dendram Castle fought and retreated, while the knights on the castle walls awaited the complete return of the knights outside.

However, Little Roches was also uncertain.

He didn't know when those knights would launch a counterattack or how fierce it would be. The most prudent method was to wait until the elite forces outside the city returned in full to ensure that the Dendram knights' counterattack wouldn't retake the town.

...

Outside the city, Earl of Thomond's face was grim as he stared at John from a distance.

Domhnall looked at John as if trying to find some trace of Henry II in him. Perhaps John's appearance wasn't as intimidating as Henry II's, but his heart was much more ruthless.

John's demands were simple.

"It would be best if you surrendered now, Domhnall." John's voice wasn't loud but was full of penetrating power.

Previously, Domhnall had thought he could retreat unscathed. Now, the circle of Norman knights surrounding him with practical actions told him he definitely wouldn't escape today.

He responded to John with silence.

John did not get angry. Instead, he took a severed head from someone behind him, raised it high, and said, "Here is the head of Jean de Courcy. Do you want to take a look? If you want to end up like him, then continue your silence."

As soon as he finished speaking, the bloodied head fell to the ground like a ball.

Unlike other Norman nobles, de Courcy always pursued refinement and luxury. But now, his head was tossed to the ground like garbage.

Domhnall continued his silence, seemingly unwilling to face reality.

"Alright, Domhnall. I gave you a chance, and you chose to forfeit it." John said as he turned to walk away. "I hope you don't regret it when you end up like de Courcy."

"Wait a moment."

Domhnall's call from afar made John pause.

He turned back slowly, unhurriedly turning his horse. He saw Domhnall riding out from behind the shield wall, accompanied by his guards.

When Domhnall reached John, John looked at him with a chin raised, exuding an air of superiority and arrogance.

"Ready to surrender now?"

Seeing John's haughty expression, Domhnall, despite feeling a profound sense of injustice, could only lower his head. He dismounted, his black cloak covered in dust.

In Ireland, Domhnall had immense power, ruling with an iron fist, but now he had to bow before John.

"Take him into custody." John's orders were given in his usual manner. "Go."

Guillaume nodded and signaled the knights to apprehend Domhnall. Domhnall did not resist, accepting his fate quietly with his head down.

As the earl was led away, John did not maintain his haughty expression. Instead, he watched Domhnall's retreating figure in silence.

"Your Highness?" Martin approached John, softly probing him.

John ignored him and rode back to the midst of the royal guards surrounding him.

The warriors of Thomond laid down their weapons, sitting wearily on the ground. They had maintained their composure and fought to the last moment amidst repeated assaults and harassments.

Both physically and mentally, they had reached their limits. Their loyalty was unquestionable. Though they slumped to the ground, their faces still bore expressions of pride. They had fought to the last moment for their lord.

John's soldiers did not mistreat them, only confiscating their weapons without further actions.

The scenes of carnage in the central and right flanks were unprecedented in all of Ireland, a veritable inferno. Numerous nobles perished, without even a chance to surrender.

The intensity of the battle surpassed everyone's expectations, delivering a nearly devastating blow to the Irish nobility.

Countless Irish families along the way wailed in grief upon hearing the news of their relatives' deaths. They were not unaware of the happenings in England, but they had never imagined such a catastrophe would befall them.

After the pain and sorrow, only numbness remained.

Many families lost their strongest men in battle, leaving only the elderly, women, and children. These survivors could only wait for the English to take over and live under English oppression.

The great Irish lords were uprooted.

Earl Domhnall of Thomond was thrown into a dungeon. The lord of Caiman was killed by his own men on his way back to Westmeath, meeting the same fate as de Courcy. Meanwhile, High King Rory returned to Connacht, still clamoring to fight John to the end.

But anyone with a clear mind knew that High King Rory's path had reached its end.

In the present moment, the knights within Dendram Castle, seeing John's triumphant return with his army, chose to surrender the castle.

After all, this was Europe; in such isolation, only a fool would refuse to surrender.

John accepted the surrender of these knights. Except for the lord of Dendram, who was executed, all the other knights were released after paying a ransom.

To John, Ireland now was like a piece of fat meat.

When to consume it and how to consume it were decisions that lay entirely in John's hands.