Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

Chapter 102 102 Krefeld's Gamble

102 Krefeld's Gamble

The revelation made Erich's pulse quicken.

So, they had won the battle but lost half their fighting strength. And those who remained were burdened with the wounded.

This was an opportunity.

Erich slowly leaned forward, his mind already working through the possibilities.

With the number of soldiers slain by Dominic's final attack, the enemy's remaining forces had been significantly reduced. A direct assault could now be enough to shatter them completely.

"If they were foolish enough to march all the way to Bodiam on their own, we could crush them outright," Erich mused. "But even they aren't that stupid."

The Grand Pact was broken, and the First Prince's life had been endangered. The enemy would undoubtedly seek to retreat as quickly as possible.

Even if it meant abandoning the defensive advantage of the castle, they had to pursue them into the open field. If they could capture the First Prince, the Emperor would have no choice but to concede to Krefeld's demands.

"Wait," Erich's gaze sharpened. "Where is the mage that accompanied us? Did he die in battle?"

"We don't know, Your Majesty. He chose to remain behind before the battle, but after the defeat... he never reappeared."

"He ran," Erich spat.

That wandering mage had shown no particular interest in anything beyond material compensation. Despite being promised a prestigious position as a court mage if things went well, he had seemed disinterested. And now, after witnessing their defeat, he had fled without even collecting his pay.

"Even a mere wandering mage saw Krefeld as weak? Did he truly believe one loss was enough to break us?"

Erich ground his teeth in frustration, recalling Colin's indifferent face.

There was no point dwelling on a traitor who had already vanished.

If Krefeld succeeded in securing its independence, that mage would regret his decision and come crawling back. When that day came, Erich would make sure the humiliation was repaid in full.

He rose from his seat and declared with unwavering resolve:

"We march. We will annihilate the Imperial forces and capture the First Prince. Krefeld's independence will be won on this battlefield!"

Meanwhile, the retreating army trudged forward at a painfully slow pace.

"I expected this, but they're really crawling," Raymond muttered, watching the struggling soldiers.

More than half the army was either being carried or leaning on someone for support, rendering them incapable of maintaining a proper march. With so many wounded, the entire retreat was sluggish beyond belief.

"At this rate, I doubt we'll make it in time," he sighed. "The enemy will catch up first."

"Are you worried?" William asked with a smirk.

"I'm more concerned that they'll expect us to stop the pursuit force. They might decide to dump the final cleanup on us."

Then—

"The pursuit force! They're coming!"

"Krefeld's cavalry is right behind us!"

A wave of dread swept over the exhausted soldiers.

They turned to see a small but formidable force of mounted warriors barreling toward them, closing the distance with terrifying speed.

William narrowed his eyes. "They're still far, but at that pace, they'll reach us before we can cross."

A voice called out to him hesitantly. "L-William..."

William turned sharply, his piercing gaze locking onto the nobleman who had spoken.

The man flinched under the intensity of his stare. He had clearly been about to ask William to stay behind and fight—but now, he couldn't even bring himself to finish the sentence.

One by one, the other lords turned their attention elsewhere.

And soon, all their gazes settled on a single man.

The second most powerful noble after the Grand Duke of Hern. The one who still had the most battle-ready troops.

Bernhardt, the Marquis.

"Damn it all."

Bernhardt clenched his fists, his teeth grinding audibly.

They called it buying time for the retreat, but in reality, it was a death sentence.

Yet, for Bernhardt, there was no real choice.

Unlike William, who had been right about nearly everything, Bernhardt had made one blunder after another in this war.

If he failed to at least uphold some semblance of honor here, his house would be permanently overshadowed by Hern. Worse, his standing among the aristocratic faction could be at risk.

If he wanted to maintain his influence, he had to act.

Kneeling down, Bernhardt raised his voice.

"Your Highness, I will hold back the enemy. Use this opportunity to escape!"

But before anyone could react, another voice interrupted.

"Wait a moment, Marquis."

It was the Second Prince, Cedric.