On a hunter's path southeast of Talburg, four cavalrymen and twelve infantrymen rode through the hills and dense forest towards the border between the southeastern mountains and the plains.
They were all dressed in tattered clothes, and except for five or six individuals equipped with leather armor and longswords, most of the remaining men carried iron forks, flails, single-edged swords, and clubs, resembling a group of fierce bandits gathered in the mountains.
After traveling for most of the day, the group arrived at a small cave hidden in the dense forest.
The cave entrance was not large, only wide enough for three people to walk abreast, and it was concealed by various trees and green vines, making it difficult to discover easily.
"Sir Art, this is the hiding place we found.
I've been inside, and it's not small; it can accommodate twenty or thirty people.
From here, walking east for half a day out of the mountains leads to a north-south main road."
Angus drew his longsword and cut away the vines at the cave entrance, and Art went in to inspect it.
"This is it.
It's very dry inside and can hide things."
"Ron, come with me to scout ahead.
The rest of you rest here and await my orders."
...
On the edge of the western Swabia mountains, beside a main road running north to south, two figures were hiding in the dense forest, observing a sentry post on the road.
Since early spring this year, after Swabia and Lombardy formed a military alliance and decided on a strategy to conquer Burgundy, many such sentry posts were built along this main road at the southern border.
Their main purpose was to protect the provisions and supplies transported to the northern border where the army was gathering.
Since the war became tense, Burgundy County had shown no signs of dispatching troops to harass the Swabia border.
The garrisons of the sentry posts were repeatedly reduced and transferred to the northern front, so these posts gradually became temporary resting points for passing Quartermaster Corps.
"My Lord, three days ago, Sir Angus and I counted, and there were originally only four Soldiers and one horse in the sentry post.
Now there are more people, probably a Quartermaster Corps resting here."
Art stared at the sentry post for a while.
The wooden wall of the sentry post was less than ten feet high.
If there were only four enemy Soldiers, Art would have dared to lead his men to directly charge and capture it.
However, with a Quartermaster Corps stationed and resting in the sentry post, a rash attack, if the convoy guards and the sentry post Soldiers resisted together, would likely cost many lives to take the post.
"Ron, have you scouted the areas before and after this point?
Are there any other estates, strongholds, or sentry towers?"
Ron recalled carefully and replied, "There are no estates, strongholds, or sentry towers half a day's horse ride to the south, but about seventeen miles north, there's a small estate, the one at the foot of the mountain we saw on the hillside four days ago.
We only went to these places; we didn't go any further."
Art thought for a moment and said, "You go scout the south again.
I'll stay here and observe for a while."
After Ron left, Art stealthily approached the sentry post, ascertaining that, besides the four Soldiers, there were also about seven or eight Quartermaster Corps drivers and guards.
...
The next morning, Art led a dozen men to ambush in the dense forest five miles north of the sentry post, on one side of the main road.
Everyone was sharpening their knives and waiting for the enemy Quartermaster Corps to emerge from the sentry post.
As the sun rose above the trees, just when everyone thought the Quartermaster Corps wouldn't set off today, Jason, who had gone to scout, ran back.
Jason, sweating, ran to Art's side and reported, "My Lord, the enemy Quartermaster Corps has already arrived with four fully loaded horse-drawn carriages, less than a mile from here.
The convoy has four drivers, three infantrymen, and one cavalryman."
"Everyone, prepare."
"Sergeant, later you, Ron, and Jason will be responsible for blocking the front and back of the main road to prevent anyone from escaping."
Art took down the ox-horn bow from his back and pulled out several diamond-headed heavy arrows, sticking them into the ground in front of him.
South of the main road, a Quartermaster Corps, responsible for transporting military provisions and weapons to the northern border, advanced slowly under the leadership of a Quartermaster.
This was not his first time transporting military supplies along this main road.
Since the local garrison cleared out several large bandit groups in the mountains six months ago, this road had become much quieter.
Initially, the Quartermaster proceeded cautiously, fearing robbery by bandits, but each time he passed, nothing happened, and over time, he relaxed.
Just as they rounded a prominent hill, a section of deadwood appeared on the road.
While the Quartermaster was still wondering how the deadwood got to the center of the road, a heavy arrow, whistling, pierced his heart.
"Enem—enem..." Before he could finish his words, the Quartermaster fell heavily from his horse to the ground with a thud.
Seeing their leader fall, the Quartermaster Corps realized they were under attack and quickly raised their longswords and short spears to defend themselves.
Art had already led a dozen Soldiers rushing down from the dense forest, completely surrounding the Quartermaster Corps.
"Surrender your weapons or die!!!" Art drew his bowstring taut and shouted in Swabian with a southern accent at the guards protecting the convoy.
A guard in leather armor quickly said a few words to the surrounding guards and the drivers holding short spears, then, brandishing his longsword, he led the charge towards Art.
Art released his bowstring, and the leather-armored guard took a heavy blow to the head, falling to the ground, twitching a few times before becoming still.
"Surrender your weapons or die!!!" Art shouted again.
The remaining two guards and four drivers, seeing that their two leaders had been shot dead in an instant, and the enemy outnumbered them, with three riders lingering not far away, slowly put down their weapons and knelt on the ground.
"Sergeant! Take men and set up a perimeter!" Art shouted to Angus, who was patrolling nearby.
"Odo, take them into the dense forest and tie them to trees."
"Tuba, drag the carriages and these two bodies into the dense forest."
After speaking, Art stepped over the leather-armored guard's body, led the Quartermaster's horse to a four-wheeled carriage, and lifted the large felt cover.
The carriage was filled with many rye bread loaves in wicker baskets.
Art then opened several other carriages, which mostly contained military provisions like smoked meat, salted fish, and hulled barley.
Additionally, there were two dozen neatly stacked rawhide round shields, thirty or so ash poles without spearheads, and over two hundred pounds of refined iron ingots for forging weapons.
An hour later, a Quartermaster Corps transporting military supplies slowly advanced from north to south on the road in front of the mountain.
The Quartermaster leading the way rode on a dark red warhorse, gnawing on a piece of smoked meat.
Seven guards and drivers followed closely behind, driving four carriages.
Angus adjusted his leather armor, still stained with the blood of the enemy Quartermaster Corps guards, and asked Art, who was on horseback, "Sir Art, will this work?"
"Of course, it won't fool them completely, but it's much better than a large group of people rushing over with weapons.
Later, you must seize the gate; don't let them close it and hunker down, otherwise, we'll have to assault the sentry post."
Half an hour later, Art and his group, disguised as the recently departed Quartermaster Corps, appeared half a mile north of the sentry post.
The sentry post guards looked at the convoy's flag; it was clearly the same Quartermaster Corps that had left the sentry post that morning.
"What are these Bastards doing? Why are they coming back?" The Commander of the sentry post cursed under his breath as he watched the approaching convoy.
"Is there danger ahead, causing them to turn back?" a Soldier replied.
"Doesn't look like it! Look, they're not panicked at all, and they're moving slowly."
The Soldier mumbled to himself.
The Commander of the sentry post kicked the Soldier next to him and barked, "You, go check it out, what's wrong with them!"
The Soldier, who had been kicked, pulled up his trousers and slowly walked towards the convoy about a hundred paces away, muttering curses.
At the convoy, everyone slightly lowered their heads, their hands already on the hilt of their swords at their waists and the short spears beside them.
Art picked up his waterskin with his left hand, pretending to drink and covering his face, while his right hand already touched the hilt of the sword hanging on his saddle.
The convoy slowly approached the Soldier who had come to inspect them.
The Soldier waved to stop them and said:
"Hey! I said, why are you all lowering your heads~~"
"You all~ huh?"
The Soldier suddenly realized that the returning Quartermaster Corps had been replaced by a group of complete strangers.
"Oh no! Close the—" The Soldier instinctively shouted, but Art's slashing longsword sealed the rest of the words in his mouth forever.
"Damn it! We're under attack!" The Commander of the sentry post, seeing the fallen Soldier not far away, repeatedly cursed and quickly turned to run towards the sentry post gate.
The moment the enemy Soldier discovered the convoy's identity, Angus, wielding a long-handled battle axe, had already left the convoy and charged towards the sentry post.
As he ran, he spotted the enemy Soldier turning back and running towards the sentry post gate.
They were only about ten paces apart, and seeing that the enemy Soldier was about to enter the sentry post and close the gate, Angus, while charging, slowly raised the long-handled battle axe over his head and then swung it forcefully.
The long-handled battle axe, propelled by immense power, cut a high arc through the air, trailing a long tail as it flew towards the slowly closing gate.
"Thud!" With a dull thud like a heavy hammer striking something, the long-handled battle axe was deeply embedded in the sentry post gate, but the gate was still closed.
"Damn it! That Bastard runs fast."
Angus couldn't help but curse loudly.
"Alright, let's assault it quickly; take this place before they can light the signal fire."
"Odo, bring the carriages under the wall."
Art said, then took a round shield from behind the saddle, preparing to personally lead men to climb over the wall using the carriages and assault the inside.
"Sir Art, I'll lead the way."
Angus drew his battle axe, ran to a carriage, took a round shield, and then jumped onto the carriage.
"Alright, you lead men to assault from this side, Odo lead men to climb over the wall from the other side, and I'll climb in from the front.
There are bows and crossbows inside, everyone listen to my command and climb over together."
After speaking, Art had someone bring over another carriage, then jumped onto it with Ron, assuming a climbing and jumping posture.
"Attack!" At the command, six people on the three carriages simultaneously climbed onto the wooden wall.
Indeed, an arrow and a crossbow bolt were shot from inside the sentry post, but in the confusion, six heads suddenly appeared on the wall.
The two Soldiers holding bows and crossbows panicked for a moment; at such close range, only one light arrow hit a person, but the person hit was Art.
When the sounds of clashing weapons and blades entering flesh echoed from within the sentry post, Art was lying horizontally on the carriage outside the sentry post's wooden wall.
A flat-headed light arrow had deeply pierced his left shoulder, just below his collarbone.
After a moment of cold numbness, an unshakeable excruciating pain set in.
He tried to struggle up, but the intense pain quickly permeated his mind and engulfed his entire body.
He felt his limbs weak and limp, and everything before him slowly faded into darkness.
In a hazy state, Art lay in a scorching desert.
The fierce sun baked the earth; Art's mouth was parched, his limbs weak, and his legs numb.
He desperately wanted to stand up and find water to drink, but his hands and feet felt as if they didn't belong to him and wouldn't obey.
Just as Art was growing restless, a prairie wolf slowly walked towards him.
As he wondered why a prairie wolf would appear in the desert, the wolf, drooling, had already reached Art's side, lowered its head, and began to tear at his shoulder.
The increasingly intense pain gradually spread into his brain.
"Ah~!"
Art cried out in pain, and the desert and the vicious wolf instantly vanished, replaced by Angus holding a flat-headed light arrow in his hand, Ron cleaning his wound, and Odo and a few others gathered around the bed.
"Water, give me water."
Art's weak voice sounded.
Ron quickly opened the waterskin and brought it to Art's lips.
Art gulped down several large mouthfuls, choking on some water before stopping.
"How is the battle?" Art tried to sit up, but the movement tore at the wound in his left shoulder, making him wince in pain.
"My Lord, we captured the sentry post, and we extinguished the signal fire in time, but the enemy Soldiers resisted fiercely.
We also had two Soldiers suffer minor injuries, but it won't affect their fighting ability.
This afternoon, I've already sent men to bring the people from the dense forest here.
I've sent scouts to both the north and south, and there's no enemy activity in the surrounding area for now.
Everything is well."
Odo stepped forward and replied.
"Good!" After saying this, Art fell back and drifted into a deep sleep.