Herald of Steel

Chapter 1181: End of the Long Day (Part-2)

*Splash*

As the body of the guilty Heeat soldier was dumped over the sea, one of the newly arrived officers quickly ran up to the Heeat commander, ready to report on the extent of their rescue.

"Sir! We have managed to save close to three hundred men," He had said with a pleased undertone to his voice as he did not think there would be so many survivors.

The collapse of the bridge had made it seem like armageddon had arrived and the man had figured no mortal soul should have been capable of surviving that.

The news of the large number of rescued also seemed to come as a pleasant surprise for the Heeat commander, who produced a quick nod of approval at the report and then asked him to continue the good work.

"Commander... should we give chase now?"

However, instead of swiftly turning on his heel and leaving, the officer decided to take a risk and chimed in to ask this, producing a troubled face as he did.

It did not take a genius to figure out what he was talking about, as the man made sure to turn his face towards Alexander's port while making the query.

He was asking for permission to go after the enemy and rescue General Achillas.

"......." And the thorny ask instantly worked to destroy the confident and pleased face his commander had, for he was quickly reminded how badly Lord Parker would likely react to the news.

The closeness the two men had with each other was general knowledge even among the most green recruits in the army, and so, just the thought of Lord Parker's fury at this news made the commander's heart palpate in trepidation.

It was so bad that even he who had very little to do with the whole thing felt he could get caught up in the lord's wrath if he slipped up along the way.

Thus the commander braced himself for the nastiest reaction and even rebuked himself internally,

'*Tsk*, I should have listened to that loud mouthed first fool. If I had known the general was missing, I could started the chase right then and there. Who would have cared for these deadbeat bumkins anyway? I would swap all of them for Achillas in a heartbeat. But now... *sigh*... it's too late!'

The commander regretted how vehemently he had shut down that very eager Heeat officer who had tried to tattle on the Margraves, now wishing he had been a bit more lenient. If he had, perhaps there indeed might have been a ghost of a chance for him to catch up to Anoon.

Although in his defense, the absolute state of the troops on the decks when he had found them left him with little confidence in the veracity of the other's claims.

After all, how was the commander to seriously contemplate that the General of their army had been kidnapped by a stray band of traitors?

It was just too ludicrous.

Achillas was always surrounded by a hoard of bodyguards, not to mention the entire troop formation that he was leading. So one would have to be a magician to whisk the man away like that.

And even though they did win, it was done with immense loss of blood and sweat, with there even being a point when the number of wounded swelled to such heights that entire sections of the deck had to be relegated solely to tending to the.

There were even unconfirmed reports of corpses being thrown overboard from ships just to make extra space for the others.

All this went to show that it had been a very, very hard fight, and if this had been a normal land battle, such losses would have caused a retreat from either side without a shred of a doubt.

But they were in the middle of the sea with little space to go anywhere, and could only back up only up to a fixed point- the ship's stern. As for the option of retreating, well, both sides were too elite to even consider that shameful option.

Hence the decks continued to be fought over bloody inch over bloody inch, with both the black and blue armored men appearing as if they were possessed. At this point, to an outsider onlooker, the whole thing almost appeared as if either side had forgotten why were fighting, and were only doing so by instinct, like they were in a trance, possessed by a devil of slaughter.

*Creaakkk..... Splashhhhh*

It was only the sudden bang of the collapsing bridge hitting the water that broke them out of this, as both sides turned their heads in frightful alarm at the enormous noise, the sight of ongoing destruction was not much less, proving an unforgettable marvel for them all.

It was such a sight in fact that as the bridge crumbed in the distance, fighting aboard all the ships largely came to a stop, as both sides instinctively chose to declare a voluntary truce, far more wishing to register the once in a generation sight.

"Order the retreat! We are going back!"

It was also this sight that convinced Lord Kite to return port, as the man figured there was little to gain from fighting here. With the destruction of the bridge, reclaiming Phyrros Island could be put on hold, they had other fish to fry.

"What! Leave after coming so close and losing so many men? Lord Kite, please consider! The enemy is so close to breaking"

Some of his officers were of course vehemently opposed to the order, as they clamored for their commander to order them to fight even more, spill even more blood.

Most of these men had been seized by the battlefield lust and given the losses they had already suffered, they could not simply accept such a lukewarm retreat.

But Lord Kite shut these men quickly down, and after navigating through the fallen debris at last reached port.

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

Please come Here!

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