Munitions Empire

The commanders of Suthers, of course, did not know that Tang Mo's artillerymen, fearing that their volleys would not be precise if fired all at once, had split the volleys into two sequences.

And when the first volley of three cannonballs came crashing down, they hit the earthen rampart directly, followed by the second round of three cannons' barrage, which arrived after a short interval, to ensure the effectiveness of the attack.

Again, three cannonballs landed on the earthen rampart, blowing Tucci and his horse's remains to pieces, thereby also flinging the embracing officer's body sky-high.

The last words Tucci hoped to deliver to the King naturally vanished with the horrific explosion, and simultaneously, the dream of Suthers Kingdom engulfing Leite Kingdom dissipated into thin air.

Tang Mo let out a sigh of relief, set down the telescope in his hand, and looked towards Wes standing beside him.

Seeing the Suthers troops now in complete disarray, Wes also knew that they seemed to have won the battle. read-first-at-MVLeMpYr

In fact, they truly had won. The Suthers troops, now leaderless, began a hasty retreat after a prolonged period of chaos.

The 3,000 men advancing on the Northern Ridge from the southeast, the two legions personally led by Tucci, started retreating back towards the southeast along the road after nearly 1,000 casualties.

They left behind the 40 field cannons they had brought along, abandoned 100 tents, and various other supplies, fleeing in utter disarray.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, Viscount Romel rode atop his horse, receiving the first piece of good news he had heard that day.

"What? Tucci is dead?" He looked at the messenger who had delivered the news, unable to hide the smile on his face.

"Yes! My Lord! General Tucci has fallen in battle! You are now fighting a lone battle," said the messenger, somewhat regrettably.

"This is truly regrettable news," said Viscount Romel with a smile, waving his hand to dismiss the messenger. No sooner had the man walked away than Romel broke into a broad grin.

Tucci's death meant no one could hold him responsible! For Viscount Romel, this was indeed good news.

Besides, with Tucci falling in battle so quickly and his troops collapsing even faster than his own—it was unlikely anyone would judge him based on his unsightly performance in battle.

Although his troops had failed to seize the enemy's position after four charges, they were at least on the offensive, while Tucci's forces had already been routed!

As for whether this war ended in victory or defeat, that was not something Viscount Romel concerned himself with—win or lose, he, a noble Viscount, would still live a life of luxury, wouldn't he?

"My Lord! With Tucci defeated and dead, we are now isolated. The enemy that vanquished Tucci might come down the road to strike us from both sides... we should make preparations early," reminded the knight who had previously spoken on behalf of Romel.

Upon this reminder, Romel's expression turned sour as he suddenly realized that his troops were indeed alone and faced the risk of being annihilated in a pincer attack.

Previously, even though he was isolated, in the attack plan, his troops' mission was merely to capture the road to cover their own forces—a marginal task. The Northern Ridge did not have a second unit to attack him, so Viscount Romel was not afraid of being attacked and dared to lead his troops alone to the fork in the road.

But now, things were different. An enemy force of superior combat strength stood before him, having already killed the renowned Tucci. If he persisted in holding his ground here, it would clearly be extremely dangerous.

A wise man does not stand under a collapsing wall... translated, this meant that when the situation turned dire, he must run quickly...

Viscount Romel immediately turned to the knights beside him and yelled, "Order the troops to retreat at once!"

"My Lord! It will take time to collect the cannons! We must..." An officer began to explain.

"To hell with the cannons! Abandon those heavy things! Damn it! Command the infantry to follow suit! I'll wait for you at the village where I stayed overnight the day before yesterday!" Viscount Romel interrupted the officer, pointing towards the road they had come from and shouting.

He then mounted his horse and, with a kick to the horse's belly, led the way at full gallop into the distance. Behind him, several knights and a mishmash of followers also either mounted their horses or drove their vehicles, fleeing cleanly with their noble lord.

"My Lord... what should we... do?" asked an officer, watching his superior in bewilderment.

"What else is there to do? Order the troops to abandon their weapons and supplies! Run as fast as you can!" the frustrated officer barked out his orders.

He too had a horse, though he had not ridden it there. Now, in this every man for himself situation, he believed he had a good chance of escaping.

Soon, the 4,500 Suthers troops who had pincered Tang Mo were utterly defeated under the assault of his new rifles and cannons.

And all that was left for Tang Mo on the battlefield was chaos and a heap of thorny issues.

His offensive directly doubled his own losses. In just the short half hour he spent killing his way onto the road, nearly 200 of his soldiers, or close to two platoons, had 6 dead and 21 wounded.

These were the elite troops he had painstakingly accumulated, the seeds and standard bearers he could rely on in the future. Now, in a single battle, he had lost 10 and had nearly 30 wounded. This made Tang Mo feel as if his heart was bleeding.

Frankly speaking, from his personal desire, he wouldn't be willing to trade a thousand of the enemy for one of his men.

However, seeing that nearly everyone including Wes was beaming with joy, he didn't have the heart to dampen everyone's spirits.

Because aside from him, everyone present believed this was a great victory, an unparalleled triumph.

"Lord! We have captured this..." an officer came over, holding a longsword: "According to the prisoners, this is the weapon of their commander, a famous general of the Suthers Kingdom, General Tucci..."

Tang Mo looked at the longsword. There was blood on its scabbard, and even the entire longsword and scabbard were slightly bent and deformed due to the impact of the artillery fire.

After a battle that resulted in the seizure of the enemy commanders' swords twice, Tang Mo's new recruit camp definitely could be considered to have achieved its first tactical victory.

The platoon leader who delivered the longsword, after the initial joy faded from his face, put on a somewhat helpless smile and said, "Lord, we've captured over 400 prisoners. They are squatting in a big black mass over there. How should we deal with them?"

"How else can we deal with them... Later on, sell them all to Lord Earl. Send them to the mines to work!" Tang Mo, who found the Suthers soldiers who had killed his 10 men particularly distasteful, ordered in a gruff tone.

"Now, we still need to find people to watch over them... Basically, we can no longer continue to fight." The platoon leader glanced at Redman standing to the side and said with some reluctance.

Tang Mo knew that with these prisoners in tow, his troops couldn't possibly move quickly anymore. Fortunately, with Tucci dead, Tucci's forces no longer had the courage to counterattack, so they were no longer at risk of being caught in a pincer.

Thus, the remaining task was to defeat another group of Suthers troops trying to take the village. After that, this battle would be over.

Thinking of this, Tang Mo also breathed a sigh of relief, because he could say he had completed the mission entrusted to him by the Earl to hold out for one day and one night in advance.

He indeed had completed it. However, he had turned the defensive mission to hold the village into a counteroffensive that crushed the enemy forces.

"Are we forgetting something?" Wes walked up to Tang Mo, licked his chapped lips with his tongue, and reminded him.

Tang Mo slapped his forehead, only then remembering... He had a force that had yet to be deployed to battle...

"Damn, Tagg, who was ambushed on the enemy's retreat path, must have already engaged..." Tang Mo said, somewhat confused.

After all, this was his first battle in command, so it was inevitable that it was full of flaws and frequent mistakes.

But who could have anticipated that the battle would go so smoothly that Tang Mo would forget he had another troop in ambush...

"I wonder how it's going over there." Wes looked off into the distance, unsure whether he felt concern or envy.

"Here, we still have a lot of things to deal with; let Tagg handle it himself!" Tang Mo glanced at a Shireck field gun lying not far away, his teasing tone was filled with a smug air.

The Suthers forces that came up from the southeast numbered about 3,000 and they brought with them 50 artillery pieces. Some of these guns were captured from the Leite Kingdom, while others belonged to the Suthers forces' own arsenal.

Frankly, rather than calling Tucci's reinforcement troops a combat force, it might be more fitting to call them a unit transporting artillery northward.

This was also why Tucci, with 3,000 men at his disposal, only committed around 1,000 men to battle at the outset.

Tucci's artillery-laden unit, in their defeat, had no capacity to take their guns with them, so they were all abandoned on the battlefield.

Apart from a few cannons that were blown up or deliberately sabotaged, Tang Mo captured over 40 field guns in one fell swoop.

At this moment, he was still unaware that Romel's forces on the other side, which had 18 field guns, had also abandoned their artillery and fled.

Therefore, in this battle, Tang Mo miraculously captured a total of 60 cannons, which could be said to have made a fortune.

If one were to also include the Shireck Flintlock Guns scattered across the battlefield, Tang Mo roughly estimated that just the munitions he had captured could almost recoup the cost of preparing for the war.

"War... what a wonderful thing you are." Tang Mo gazed toward the main battlefield where Fisheo was in personal command to the north and murmured softly.

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