When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#325 - Sand Sculpture Knight has sand sculptures!

“That Haelwyn, he's plain-looking, even a bit ugly, but he's quite reliable when it comes to getting things done. Tell him to feign defeat, and look at him, he does it just like a real defeat.”

Zelakern observed Nidsar's expression, probing as he spoke.

“Hmph, no good at winning battles, but excels at faking defeat... Have the rebel forces advanced?”

“They have.”

“That's enough.”

Sitting on the terrace of Gale Fortress, Nidsar stroked his great sand eagle, not bothering to observe closely.

If he had observed carefully, he would have noticed—

The knights' armor was coming loose in their flight, making clanging sounds.

Some helmets were askew, and some had even discarded their armor completely, running back alone.

Cracked longswords were stuck in the ground, reflecting the afterglow of the setting sun.

Their banners were no longer flying, but rolled into a ball, drooping weakly on the flagpole.

In a corner of the camp, several knights sat around a bonfire, their faces covered in dust and sweat, their wine glasses trembling in their hands.

Wine spilled onto their armor, making hissing sounds.

Their conversations were disjointed, with occasional awkward laughter.

This wasn't a feigned defeat; it was clearly a real one.

Nidsar didn't look closely, and didn't think it necessary to look closely.

As long as the effect was right, he didn't care what happened in between.

Luring the rebel forces to advance was only the first step in Nidsar's plan.

Unlike Boao, Nidsar wasn't from a traditional manor aristocratic background, so he didn't have the Imperial Order knights' nonsensical arrogance.

Nidsar believed in the saying, “A lion uses all its strength even when hunting a rabbit.”

Moreover, this rabbit had even overturned an Order company that Nidsar was quite wary of.

So, in just five days, Nidsar summoned hundreds of knights who had fought the Salvation Army, asking for their opinions.

Although he still didn't fully understand the Salvation Army, he at least had a general impression.

Nidsar's gaze fell on the discarded spring-powered rifle on the table, his fingers gently brushing over it.

According to those knights, this long-barreled weapon was the reason for the Salvation Army's repeated victories.

Some knights called these weapons lightning sticks, but Nidsar knew that was just a commoner's misnomer.

According to the rats from Jeanne Fort, the real name of this weapon was a spring-powered rifle.

The range of this spring-powered rifle was about a hundred paces, and it could easily pierce armor. He guessed it probably utilized some alchemical reaction or special magic.

Nidsar wasn't unfamiliar with this kind of alchemical or magical weapon.

He even had his own alchemical whistle to control his sand eagle.

However, unlike other magic, they could cast spells densely and quickly.

Casting spells could interfere with each other. When a magician was casting a spell, it was best not to have another magician casting a spell within a two-meter radius around them.

The spring-powered rifle had no restrictions at all, clean and simple.

With such a useful weapon, Nidsar was very willing to get himself a set too.

For this dark-skinned man from the desert, there weren't so many taboos and complications; he used whatever was useful.

Perhaps it was because of this that he repeatedly failed to get promoted.

After all, the church has always been process-oriented, not results-oriented.

“How is the replication of these weapons going?” Nidsar's arm shot forward, and the sand eagle spread its wings and flew, swooping down on the farmers working in the fields.

To crack the advantage of the spring-powered rifle, Nidsar brought in many skilled craftsmen to try to replicate it.

“Not yet…”

“Ah—my eyes, he took my eyes away.”

“Get away, get away, don't peck at my Papa!”

“Sani, run!”

Zelakern's train of thought was interrupted halfway by the screams from the fields.

He coughed, cleared his throat, and didn't look at his own people.

“Currently, it has not been successfully developed.”

“I personally disassembled that spring-powered rifle, and the structure inside isn't particularly complicated, is it?” Nidsar stroked the barrel of the spring-powered rifle in his hand, his voice gentle and steady.

Zelakern immediately dissuaded him, “Your Excellency, the craftsmen have all tried it. We even transported the wizard prisoners from the Red Copper Fortress over here, but we still haven't been able to develop it successfully.

They have had some success. Replicas have been made one after another during this period, but for some reason, either they don't have the rumored power or they can't be wound up at all.

Your Excellency, I think the rumors of 'lightning sticks' are completely just excuses that the knights are making for themselves. This may just be an ordinary crossbow.”

Nidsar narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “Really?”

“Really!”

“Really? I don't believe it.” Leaning back in his chair, Nidsar crossed his legs. “It's possible if one person says so, but so many people say so. Can't I see the holes in the armor?”

Zelakern wiped the sweat from his forehead and quickly shifted his attention, “We have received news that, as you predicted, the Salvation Army has launched an early attack.”

The latest novels are first published on Liu-9-Shu-Ba!

Nidsar glanced at Zelakern with his narrow eyes, sneered, and didn't continue to dwell on the topic.

“Where have they advanced to?”

“It seems to be Black Pottery Town.”

“Only advanced twenty miles? Cautious enough.” Nidsar rocked back and forth in his chair.

But Nidsar had actually expected this result. After all, if it were him, he would probably choose Black Pottery Town as well.

At least from the border to Black Pottery Town, there were some mineral rabbit forests and black mud hills that could block the cavalry. In the hundreds of miles from the black mud hills to Gale Fortress, there were endless wheat fields.

“Yeah, Haelwyn was beaten so badly. Is the lure not working?”

“As long as they come out, our strategy will be successful.”

Through the analysis of the Order company's several failures, Nidsar believed that the peasant rebels could win mainly because of three things—narrow terrain, armor-piercing spring-powered rifles, and a witch with lightning magic.

The main tactics were rapid march and defeating the enemy one by one. If King Xian's knights and the Order company had acted together, even if Jeanne Fort was lost, the Battle of Pavia wouldn't have been lost.

Faced with the peasant rebels' three major advantages, Nidsar's response strategy was to retreat first, concentrate the scattered forces, and not let them defeat them one by one.

When the main infantry force of the rebels quickly marched onto the plains, the terrain advantage would be gone.

The plain terrain was the cavalry's home field.

As for the witch with lightning magic, they could fight on sunny days and then call the monks to suppress her with chanting divine magic.

Finally, Nidsar's solution to the armor-piercing spring-powered rifle was to harass them with mounted archers and fill the ranks with serf soldiers until they were used up.

Eliminating the enemy's three major advantages, the rest was to bring out the knights' original strength.

Nidsar, like his title of Sand Eagle, was known for his ruthlessness and patience, and was best at wearing down his opponent's patience through harassment and then delivering a fatal blow.

In the first stage of luring the enemy, he thought Haelwyn and Kaserdal would mess things up, but he didn't expect them to execute it so well.

“Have the money, food, and supplies been moved away?”

“Except for those immovable properties, they have all been moved away.”

“Good, give some gold, ivory, and spices to Haelwyn and Kaserdal to encourage their achievements.” Nidsar was always generous to those who had made contributions.

“Good, good.” Zelakern felt a bit of a twinge of envy.

A clear eagle cry rang out, and the gray-yellow feathered sand eagle, carrying withered eyeballs and tiny fingers, landed on Nidsar's arm.

“Oh, good boy, good boy!” Nidsar extended a finger and gently stroked the sand eagle's head.

“But Your Excellency, I have a small question.” Avoiding the bloody eagle head, Zelakern asked cautiously, “What if they stay in Black Pottery Town and refuse to come out no matter what?”

“Impossible.” Nidsar affectionately combed the sand eagle's feathers. “His food all depends on the Kasha County supply. They are stationed in Black Pottery Town.

Supplying food on two fronts, their food reserves and transport capacity can't hold up, and the church's offensive on Ansen Fort is going quite smoothly, and it looks like they will take it down soon.

If he has any brains, he will think about ending the war quickly. When they can't hold back and reach the plains, that will be our battlefield.

As long as the plan can be executed properly... I don't want to be rude, but the rebels already have one foot in the grave.”