The nobles of the two duchies were in agony and anger. They had already lost more than 900 men in the morning attack, and in the afternoon, they were lured away by the enemy's two cannons. About 300 of their private soldiers were gone.
These were not the lowly commoners, but the elite armed forces of their families. One of the nobles, who had sent out two squads of his private soldiers to chase after the two cannons, could only watch helplessly as his family's armed forces were destroyed by the enemy. He was so angry that he vomited blood and fell unconscious.
What angered the nobles the most was that the enemy had fired the cannons at their camp. Less than 10 people were killed, but the chaos in the camp lasted until the evening.
If it weren't for the fact that they had beheaded a few people who were scared half crazy to warn the rest of the people who were still in shock, perhaps the chaos would have continued for a long time.
The hateful and cursed nobles swore that if they could catch the enemy, they would torture them with the cruelest methods to vent their anger and resentment.
They had originally planned to launch a night attack, but it seemed that they could not count on the commoners anymore. The nobles had a heated discussion on whether to continue with the plan.
In the end, the common hatred for the enemy prevailed. The nobles made up their minds and decided to launch a night attack with their private soldiers as revenge for the enemy's cannons in the afternoon.
They believed that the enemy had taken advantage of them in the afternoon and successfully disrupted the camp here. They would not have expected the nobles to insist on a night attack at night.
Moreover, the nobles' private soldiers were well-trained elites. The speed of a roundabout and frontal attack was not something the commoners could compare to. They believed that the night attack would be a success and the hateful enemy would be eliminated soon.
After waiting anxiously for half the night, good news finally came from the frontline. The nobles' private soldiers had successfully occupied the enemy's defensive position.
But the problem was that it was an empty position. The enemy had retreated at some point. Instead, the nobles' private soldiers accidentally fell into the enemy's trap during the night attack, and more than a hundred of them were injured.
Digging pits and setting traps was no longer a problem, and only one or two were injured.
The main reason was that the enemy had buried a lot of sharp wooden chisels, broken swords and spears in the trenches, most of which were the weapons of the conscripted subjects.
After the enemy cleaned up the battlefield, they collected the scrap metal and buried it at the bottom of the trench when they retreated, with their swords and spears pointing upwards. There were also a few scarecrows beside it. From a distance, they looked like sleeping soldiers.
The first batch of nobles' private soldiers jumped into the trenches without hesitation, ready to engage in hand-to-hand combat with the enemy, but they were all hit.
The private soldiers behind them heard the screams of their comrades and thought that they were no match for them. They hurriedly jumped into the trenches as reinforcements, but some of them were also injured …
All the nobles were so angry that they wanted to vomit blood. Not only did they miss their attack, they even sprained their waists.
The enemy was truly sinister and cunning. An empty defensive position had actually caused over a hundred casualties on their side.
This time, most of the injuries were on their feet and calves. If their feet were not pierced, then their calves were scratched. It was impossible for them to walk, and they had to send people to carry the injured back.
"Where did the enemy go?" one of the nobles asked.
The private soldier who came back to report answered hesitantly, "It should be Squirrel Village. After we occupied the defensive position, we wanted to go to Squirrel Village to take a look. We sent a small team over, but they were shot and sent back …"
"Why didn't we just charge over?"
One of the nobles was so angry that his nostrils were swollen. "Since we found out that the enemy was in Squirrel Village, we should all charge over. How many enemies are there?
We have so many people. If we all charge over, we'll crush them to death! "
The poor private soldier didn't know how to answer. He couldn't possibly say that everyone was afraid of the enemy, and that the enemy had also set up a trap in Squirrel Village. If they charged over, they would fall into the enemy's trap, and the private soldiers would be the unlucky ones … In any case, the nobles wanted the private soldiers to attack the enemy's defensive position on the hillside, and didn't say that they were going to attack Squirrel Village …
At this time, the former Lord of Squirrel Village, Baron Flinsland, stepped forward to help the private soldier who had come to deliver the news. He told the nobles present that although Squirrel Village was a poor mountain village, the village still had a stone wall and a log fence to defend against wild beasts.
If the nobles' private soldiers charged down to attack Squirrel Village, they might fall into the enemy's trap and cause unnecessary casualties.
It would be better to set up a defensive position on the hillside at night. When the sun rose tomorrow morning, we would be able to see the situation in Squirrel Village from above, and we would know what the enemy was up to.
Thus, the nobles accepted Baron Flinsland's suggestion and ordered the private soldiers to set up a defensive position on the hillside. Everything would wait until the sun rose tomorrow.
When the sun rose high in the sky the next day, the nobles woke up after a good night's sleep. After washing up, they had breakfast served by the servants. Only then did they gather in the large tent, all of them lamenting the hardships and hardships of life in the army.
When everyone had gathered, they rode their mounts and walked towards the defensive position on the hillside, surrounded by their personal servants and guards.
The nobles' private soldiers, who had been exposed to the cold wind for an entire night on the hillside, were shivering as they lined up to welcome the lords. Because no one had given them any orders, the camp did not prepare breakfast for these private soldiers. All of the private soldiers had been starving for an entire night, and then half the morning.
However, the nobles were all reasonable upper-class people, and could empathize with the private soldiers' feelings. They immediately ordered the servants to prepare food and water for the private soldiers in the camp.
Baron Flinsland was right. Standing on the defensive position on the hillside, looking down, Squirrel Village was indeed in a panoramic view.
Although it was only a small mountain village with less than a hundred households, the area was not small. It was not much different from the camp the nobles had set up.
However, the houses in the village were really dilapidated. They were all shacks made of rotten wood and branches, and the roofs were covered with thick thatch.
The only thing that could be seen was that most of the dilapidated shacks had a sizable yard or flat ground in front of them. This was easy to understand, because the villagers needed a place to dry the mountain goods they picked.
Squirrel Village did have a wall made of rocks and logs, mainly to prevent wild beasts from attacking at night.
Carnivores that lacked food in winter would easily focus their attention on the small mountain village. So, not only did Squirrel Village have a fence, there was also a trench dug in front of it.
However, it was very likely that no wild beasts could enter the village for a long time, so the villagers no longer paid attention to the trench and the fence.
The wall made of rocks had not been repaired for many years, and had collapsed in a few places. The gaps were covered with moss and climbing vines.
The wooden fence was the same, some of the logs had been eaten away by insects, revealing many rotten stubble.
Even the top of the trench was covered with thick weeds and shrubs...
On the hillside next to the village, there were scattered fields, which added up to about two hundred mu.
However, the fields were now empty. The winter wheat had been harvested and the stalks were piled up everywhere in the village. There were also many dried branches that were used as firewood.
Baron Flinsland was furious. If it wasn't for the Aueran invasion that raided the three southern prefectures, he would have been able to harvest this batch of winter wheat.
While the wheat in Squirrel Village wasn't worth much, it was still better than letting it all go to the lowly citizens of Squirrel Village.
Furthermore, with this incident, even if he won the war and regained his territory, the villagers would be hard to manage in the future. Those lowly citizens might keep their harvest for themselves instead of handing it over to the rightful lord of the territory.
Squirrel Village was quiet and there was no one in sight. It seemed that the Aueran troops stationed there knew that the allied forces of the two duchies had arrived, so they moved the villagers elsewhere. Squirrel Village was now an abandoned mountain village without a single soul in sight.
"Look over there! The enemy's over there!" A noble pointed at the northwest corner of the village.
Baron Flinsland took out his monocular and looked at it. This was an item that every nobleman of a territory would have, and would be used for hunting and fighting.
Squirrel Village was his territory, and he was very familiar with this place. Wasn't the northwest corner of the village where he camped in the past? Every year, all kinds of mountain products harvested from the villagers of Squirrel Village would be stored in the stone warehouse of the campsite. When the quantity increased, they would be sold to the big trading companies. Every time, he would earn a large sum of money. Unfortunately, this year's income was gone …
The bivouac, as seen through the spyglass, was quite different from the impression which Baron Flensland had made of it.
There used to be a two-storey wooden building and a stone warehouse. There was also a wooden fence 50 meters ahead.
Now, next to the stone warehouse, under the stone wall of the small stone hill, there was a long row of wooden houses built with logs. Even behind the log fence, there was a row of large wooden sheds.
Between the wooden fence of the camp and Squirrel Village was an empty field about a hundred meters away. It was estimated to be about a hundred and forty to fifty meters.
This was a place that Baron Flinsland, the lord, had specially set aside for his servants to walk their horses.
For the sake of this empty field, he had even ordered his servants and guards to tear down the walls of Squirrel Village and a few of the villagers' dilapidated houses. He had leveled the land so that his beloved horses would have a place to walk their legs.
As the Lord, Baron Flinsland naturally had this authority. Besides, when he came here to hunt, he could wake up early in the morning and see a large green field with a few of his beloved horses strolling on it. It was much more pleasant than seeing a few run-down houses of his subjects ….
Now, this green field had been ruined by the enemy squadron stationed here. They had moved forward about sixty meters and built a new wooden fence. They had also dug a two meter wide trench in front of it.
They did not waste the soil they had dug out from the trench. They mixed it with some vines and pressed it into large cubes. They then piled these cubes in front of the wooden fence to form a mud wall.
Although this mud wall was only about 70 meters long and the wooden fence was only about three meters tall, there was a drawbridge in front of the trench.
There were also low canopies built on top of the wooden fence. There were also wooden turrets built on both sides.
One end was connected to the small rocky mountain, and the other end was cut off at the steep slope of the mountain road. In fact, it had become a small fortress that was easy to defend and hard to attack.
All the enemies had clearly retreated into this small fortress. Through the telescope, one could see the gun barrels sticking out from between the wooden fence behind the mud wall.
But there were very few people walking around in the empty field.
From afar, this small fortress seemed to contain an infinite amount of murderous intent in its silence.
"Is, is there a water source inside?" One of the nobles muttered.
Baron Flinsland smiled bitterly and replied, "Yes, there is a clear spring on the small rocky mountain next to it. It flows all year round …"
If it was not for that clear spring, Baron Flinsland would not have chosen that place to build his hunting camp.
"Then, then can we go around to the back and climb up that small rocky mountain?" Another nobleman asked.
"You can't climb it. There's a rocky cliff behind it that's almost fifty to sixty meters high. You can go up the mountain in front, but it's very rugged and steep. But you can reach the top."
Baron Flinsland's words were as good as not saying anything. They were inside the camp. If they could go up the mountain in front, it would mean that they had already conquered this small fortress. Why would they go up the mountain then?
The nobles of the two duchies knew very well that there were only two ways to capture such a small fortress without cutting off the water source or taking advantage of the terrain. The first was to besiege it for a long time, and when there was a shortage of food inside, they could force the defenders to surrender.
The other was to attack with ants. They would use their superior military strength to attack from the front and slowly whittle down the defenders' strength and energy. When the defenders inside could not hold on any longer, they would then be able to conquer this small fortress.
But both methods had their pros and cons. The first was to besiege it for a long time. Although it could reduce their own casualties, they would need to provide supplies for the besieging troops. This was a number that the nobles of the two duchies could not afford.
They had gathered almost five thousand men to pillage the three southern prefectures. Just gathering these five thousand men to provide supplies for ten days to half a month had almost used up all their money. They were just waiting to plunder some valuables from the three southern prefectures to supplement their expenses.
What they didn't expect was that they would be beaten to a pulp by an enemy garrison of less than two hundred people, suffering heavy casualties.
It had only been a few days, and they had lost almost half of their men.
And because of the high number of casualties, the supplies they had gathered were more abundant. It was enough for the rest of their men to last a month or so.
But with fewer enemies, they could hold on for a longer time in this small fortress.
So, the first method was not advisable. Then, the only way left was to attack with ants.
Although this method would result in heavy casualties, the nobles did not need to personally go into battle. As long as they did not sacrifice themselves, the loss of some of the family's armed forces and nobles' private soldiers was bearable...