Herald of Steel

Looking at the state of the water, Alexander found himself hesitating to take the last step.

With all the obstacles in front of him, jumping ship did not seem to be at all a prudent option.

There were patrol ships with archers cruising over the freezing water, and his destination lay several kilometers away, which he would be asked to cover while basically wearing a straitjacket.

A straitjacket that Alexander was unable to take off due to the threat of any potential stray arrow or javelin shot towards him, for there were bound to be some potshot coming along his way when he tried to escape.

And if by any bad luck one of them were to hit, without the armor he might perish to a shot that he otherwise might have survived.

Alexander was unwilling to take such a huge risk.

Neither was he sure he could make it there with it on.

He was a fit man don’t get me wrong, but years of luxury and a cushy position made it so that he was no longer like many of the legionaries under him.

Those men were like Olympic athletes, built like bulls with heavy muscles and immaculate physiques.

While Alexander was more like a regular officer worker who worked out three to four times a week just to keep himself fit and in shape.

Both might look chiseled and muscular from the outside, but the similarities only ran skin deep.

The insides were very different, for one did it as a lifestyle and as a hobby, while the other pursued it as a profession, as a passion, as a means of putting bread on their table.

They were not the same.

Now, Alexander did not practice so hard not just because he was simply lazy. But much more because he was too busy, there being too many things that needed his attention, unlike the simple soldiers.

But whatever the case, these treacherous conditions made it so that Alexander began to feel that trying to escape was almost as doomed as staying aboard the sinking ship.

Thus Alexander turned his head back to suggest,

“Hemicus! The waters are too dangerous! The enemy has trapped us in. I cannot jump. Let’s fight! Order the men to abandon this ship!”

“Have them slowly move to the second ship and see if we can get it moving. With some luck, we will be able to fight our way through. That is our only chance!”

The ship that had rammed Alexander was still intact, and thus he wished his men to move there, and then use it to escape.

The reason why he had not done so earlier was because, one- his flagship was much bigger, and thought the greater deck area would give him the opportunity to deploy more of his troops onto it and crush the boring Margraves.

The result of that assumption was a mixed bunch, with casualties among the attackers being certainly higher, but also at the same time, it sank the ship quicker.

But perhaps a much bigger reason for this came from the fact that this second ship was in the range of the attack from the angry Heeat family soldiers above, who were still throwing whatever they could get their hands on Alexander’s fleet.

Those men were persistent if nothing else.

“…….” Towards the suggestion, Hemicus first produced a greatly annoyed face, as if he found Alexander’s cowardice greatly distasteful.

According to the man’s mind, if Alexander stayed here, he would certainly die. While if he ran, he would only almost certainly die.

The scales of probability spoke for themselves.

As for heading for the second ship and trying to flee using it, the bodyguard captain was quite pessimistic about the chances of succeeding.

Because to do this, first and foremost they would have to break down their troop formation, and present their backs to the enemy.

Doing such a thing in such a tight space would undoubtedly open them up to counterattacks, creating a lot of casualties. Especially since the man did not think there was enough time or space to form a rear guard.

And even if they managed to pull off this dangerous retreat, then there was the whole other matter of them actually fleeing with the ship, during which they were sure to be pursued by the enemy.

Such a maneuver by such an unskilled force would undoubtedly take too long, and the skilled Margraves would surely take full advantage, ruthlessly pinning them in with fierce ramming attacks.

Then it would be just the repeat of the same thing all over again.

What was the point?

‘We should stay on that ship and ask for reinforcements. Either from Remus or from the port.’ Thus according to Hemicus, a better course of action would be to retreat to the second ship, using it as a new regrouping point and holding it until they received help.

There were still ships in Alexander’s fleet that had not been rammed and pinned yet but were moving around being chased by enemy ships. One of these surely could slip through the cracks and inform the others of their dilemma.

Thinking this, Hemicus was just about to reveal this proposal to Alexander when suddenly,

“*Trumpet!* *Trumpet*!” The blaring blow of a trumpet smashed upon his ears with a thunderous roar, and was immediately followed by the loud cry emanating from all the enemy soldiers around him,

“Retreat! Retreat! That is the horn of retreat! The commander asks for us to retreat!”

Many officers among the Margraves were just as confused as the legionaries behind them to the wisdom of this decision.

“We were so close! Why?”

Thus they cried to each other as they saw their troop leave the wounded and crippled prey, rushing to board their ships quickly while giving their back to them.

It seemed to them as if the prey had been already brought to his knees, out of breath and out of tricks, and the only thing left to do now was decapitate it and claim their prize for all the hard work.

Thus leaving the fruits of all their labor just as it was to be ripened, ready to be harvested really stun.

And they could not help but think bitterly of their commander.

While some of the officers began to even hypothesize the plausible reasons, stating,

“Perhaps the commander is feeling apprehensive about the sinking ship. Maybe does not want us to accidentally drown.”

This was certainly plausible as there were instances of the ship, instead of slowly descending, snapping suddenly.

It happened due to the fact that as the ship sunk, the ambient water pressure pressing from all sides kept increasing and increasing, until it suddenly passed that critical point and the wood splintered in the blink of an eye, giving itself away like a tin can under pressure.

It crumbled and crushed itself without any warning, and took all unsuspecting fools on her with it.

“Hmmmm, maybe.” Hence this reason did make some sense.

However, to many, it also rang a bit hollow, as evidenced by the anemic reply.

This was because this was not their first rodeo, and they had never gotten such an order in all the prior times.

So given their current circumstances were not much different from any other time, “What changed now?” many of the officers as well as some of the general grunts were eager to find out, rushing towards their commander with intent.

“Dammit! Why now?”

As for the man who had issued this order, Ser Robert, well he was found cursing like so while giving a frustrated look at his adjutant.

While the black man next to him only wore a pensive face, and in a flat tone pursed through his lips, “It cannot be helped. We must help the Heeat soldiers. They cannot be allowed to perish from the crumbling bridge.”

Yes, Alexander had not noticed it due to the heat of the fighting, the destruction of the bridge had finally reached its apex.

Section after section were falling like dominos, producing frightful creaks and giant splashes, while the pleas for help from above achieved a fevered pitch.

Anoon had been holding off on sending his ships to rescue them for as long as he could, hoping they could finish off the enemy before setting off.

But it seemed Alxx had managed to timer stall him. Given the state of the bridge, there was no way they could wait any longer.

Thus turning to his peeved commander, Anoon reiterated the reason he had already given,

“If we want to have any wish for General Achillas to favor us, we cannot leave his men atop to die. Forget the Adhanians! Order all the ships to work on getting the Heeat men off the bridge instead.”

The man’s tone was almost officious, appearing to the point as if he was the man in charge.

It was something that did cause Ser Robert to furrow his eyes even further, although not necessarily at the man.

He thought it was such a shame to let the enemy go just like that.

But knowing the other side had a very good point, swallowed all such thoughts and began to take in the stranded men.

However the same problem soon reared its ugly head again- ‘there was not enough space.’

Let us say no to piracy! Don’t take part in a crime! Don’t patronize thieves!

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