Lord of Caldera - Chapter 339

Chapter 339: Chapter 339 Retreat
Malon’s thoughts returned to the present, and his frustration deepened.

“Even now, it’s laughable. Outnumbered by us, and yet they hunted us down like wolves chasing sheep,” he muttered, his words biting enough to make Birgit shift uncomfortably.

“Still,” Birgit ventured again, “we have enough forces left to devastate their rear. If we move quickly, we can force the Dragonslayer to return.”

“Perhaps,” Malon admitted with a grudging nod. As much as he despised Birgit’s recklessness, the logic held. They still had enough troops to inflict significant damage, which might disrupt the Dragonslayer’s campaign.

“We’ll see if he can overcome sheer numbers,” Malon thought grimly.

“Sir Malon! Look ahead!” Birgit’s sudden cry broke Malon’s train of thought.

“What now?” Malon snapped, following Birgit’s trembling hand.

What he saw left him speechless.

Near their target, an enormous force stood ready—easily comparable in size to their own.

“Where in the hell did they come from?” Malon whispered, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“What the…? Who are they?”

“They’re the enemy!”

The soldiers were startled at the sight of the approaching allied forces and began to react in alarm. Only then did Malone, observing their movements and attire closely, murmur to himself.

“They’re mercenaries.”

“Mercenaries?”

“Yes, look at their attire. There’s no uniformity; each is dressed differently. They seem to gather haphazardly, without clear leadership or coordination.”

“Ah, I see!”

At Malone’s words, Birgit studied the troops with renewed focus. Indeed, upon closer inspection, Malone’s observation was accurate. Unlike a proper army, where soldiers would have pre-assigned positions to take, these individuals were seeking out what appeared to be their respective leaders.

In essence, this army was a collection of numerous mercenary groups. Birgit’s eyes lit up at the realization.

“This is our chance! We should strike immediately.”

“Strike now?”

“Yes! Look at how disorganized they are. It’s obvious their command structure is a mess. If we attack now, they’ll crumble easily.”

Birgit’s suggestion was brimming with confidence. A poorly organized army was indeed prone to collapse under pressure. After all, even the Dragon Slayer relied on targeting commanders to disrupt the enemy’s chain of command. However, Malone let out a deep sigh and shook his head.

“Sir Birgit, those are mercenaries. In terms of experience, they far surpass the conscripted rabble of the alliance.”

“That may be true, but with their chain of command in disarray—”

“That’s army logic!”

Frustrated, Malone’s voice rose, startling Birgit. Malone pressed on, glaring at him.

“Those men don’t lack a chain of command! They’re simply following the orders of their respective mercenary leaders. Their system may appear chaotic, but it’s actually well-structured!”

“But… wouldn’t their inability to unify their forces still be a weakness?”

“Perhaps! But in a chaotic skirmish, where intricate strategies or formations aren’t required, such a ‘weakness’ is irrelevant! Those men are seasoned fighters who know how to handle themselves in battle!”

Charging in recklessly without a plan would only result in being counterattacked—and their foes were hardened mercenaries. Unlike the alliance’s ragtag conscripts, they would strike back fiercely, likely inflicting heavy casualties.

“Yes, they may be susceptible to division due to their independent nature, but such tactics require time! Do we have that luxury right now?”

One could sow discord by bribing one group or by selectively targeting specific mercenary factions while avoiding others. However, such strategies required careful preparation and, above all, time—something they lacked at the moment.

Faced with Malone’s relentless logic, Birgit deflated.

“Then… what do you propose?”

“We’ll withdraw and target another location.”

“Withdraw? But this was our objective!”

“Why? Do you, unlike this coward here, wish to demonstrate your bravery by engaging them in a head-on fight?”

“…”

Malone’s jab at the disaster at Grixbor Fortress left Birgit speechless. Clicking his tongue in irritation, Malone ordered the army to retreat. Fortunately, the mercenaries, seemingly content to earn only what they were paid, did not pursue the allied forces.

Malone let out a sigh of relief at the lack of pursuit.

‘Even so, what an overwhelming number. Just how much money has that Dragon Slayer poured into this?’

Hiring mercenaries was never cheap. Given that their job entailed risking their lives, they charged exorbitant fees. Yet here was such a vast number of them. Even if the contracts were short-term, the cost must have been astronomical.

‘Still, it’s fortunate. If he hired this many mercenaries, other areas must be left vulnerable. It seems he’s chosen to consolidate his forces in one place rather than risk being defeated piecemeal.’

The allied forces’ current location was just behind Grixbor Fortress. It appeared the Dragon Slayer had concentrated his mercenaries here to fortify his main base. It wasn’t a bad decision, but it also meant that other locations were likely left undefended.

‘Poor Dragon Slayer. No matter how well you play your hand, the fundamental disparity in numbers can’t be overcome!’

With that thought, Malone spurred his horse toward another stronghold farther from Grixbor. If the enemy concentrated their forces on their main base, they would inevitably pay the price for neglecting other locations.

However, when Malone arrived at the targeted stronghold, he shouted in shock.

“What in the world—!”

The stronghold, which he had expected to be undefended, was teeming with mercenaries.

“So we retreat? After all this time?”

“Unless you want to stay here and fight to the bitter end. We might last until the eighth battle, but it would only end in annihilation. At least our names would be remembered.”

Birgit closed his mouth, not in response to sarcasm, but to the harsh truth of the statement. It was indeed humiliating to retreat now, but he wasn’t ready to throw away his life just to preserve his honor.

“Fine. Let’s retreat,” Birgit agreed with a heavy nod. The two began the withdrawal, though they did not rush—they already knew it was too late.

As they made their way around Grixbor Fortress, news reached their ears.

“The traitors Franz and Roland have been executed! Justice has been served, so let all southerners praise the greatness of the goddess!”

“It’s over,” Malone muttered.

The faces of both knights were contorted with despair. They turned their horses around and headed toward Grixbor Fortress to surrender.