Chapter 7: Field Squad

Crossing the rugged Pyrenees Mountains, and under the puzzled gazes of the garrison at the pass, Komer and his party set off toward the Flanders Valley. The road descending from the Pyrenees was extremely steep—already quite challenging for ordinary people—but to the barbarians, it was merely slightly difficult. Accustomed to the uneven mountains of the Cordillera Desert, the Pyrenees, which ordinary people considered insurmountable, were just a more difficult obstacle for them.

However, the barbarians seemed unwilling to expend their strength on overcoming such challenges. Compared to the steepness of the Pyrenees, the pass at the mouth of the Meiran River Valley to the east was much easier to breach. Moreover, it lay at the border between the Kingdom of Smyrna and the Kingdom of Iberia, making it a natural weak point and an ideal target for the barbarians.

Komer politely declined the advice of the Iberian guards at the pass. After showing them the contract he had obtained from Count Clermont and sealed by the royal chancellery of Iberia, the guards acknowledged Caradoc’s sovereignty over Flanders. Yet they still told Komer and his party that since the fortress of Gdańsk had been completely destroyed, the entire Flanders Valley had become a hunting ground for the barbarians. Although the barbarians had shifted their focus eastward, small groups of them still operated in the Flanders Valley. They advised Komer and his party to avoid taking such unnecessary risks.

Following the valleys along the northern foothills of the Pyrenees, half a day later, Komer and his party entered the Flanders Valley. Amidst the endless flax fields interspersed with a few barley fields, they didn’t encounter a single passerby along the way. The one or two villages they passed through were also deserted. Looking at the empty houses, it was clear that the barbarians had already plundered the area, and what remained held little interest for them.

Antwerp was the central town of Flanders, located right in the heart of the Flanders Valley. When the crisp sound of Komer’s group’s horse hooves echoed through the streets, the entire area appeared desolate and bleak—almost every shop door had been destroyed, the interiors in chaos, everything looted. Occasionally, a few pale-faced mortals could be seen tidying up their homes; they were clearly those who had no other place to go and had returned to their homes first. Apart from their own provisions, Komer’s group couldn’t find a place to rest, as if ravaged by locusts, the barbarians had taken everything they could carry away.

Seeing Komer’s group’s well-dressed appearance, the people tidying up the houses showed surprise. They hadn’t expected anyone to dare ride horses in this area; it seemed they were people of status. Didn’t they fear being plundered by the barbarians?

“Is this Count Clement’s residence in Antwerp?” Komer asked slowly, pointing with his whip at the ruins.

“Yeah, it is. It seems the barbarians already stripped it bare,” replied the guide Komer had hired at great expense—a former Flanders vagrant who already had no home. The barbarians’ plundering didn’t affect him much. Of course, out of fear that the barbarians would capture locals as slaves, he still evacuated Flanders with the residents. The barbarians behaved more like bandits, stealing everything except the mortals themselves; unless resisted, they rarely harmed them directly.

“A bunch of guys who only know how to destroy and not build—simple-minded. No wonder they can only stay in the Cordillera Wasteland,” Michajevic said, shaking his head and shrugging regretfully. “Newman, look—this building must be at least three hundred years old. It’s in the standard Rococo style, with smooth and delicate lines, a magnificent and splendid design, yet ruined by these tasteless brutes.”

“Well, it should be an ancient building from the Tudor era, about 350 years ago. Look at the reliefs and carved column caps on these buildings—you can still sense the romantic elegance of that era.” Newman was already crouched beneath the ruins of one building, clearing some debris to take a closer look. “It’s a shame. I never expected to find such well-preserved Tudor-era buildings here. But if some money were spent on restoration, most of their original appearance could probably be restored. Those barbarians only care about taking valuables on the surface, not realizing that this building is the true treasure.”

“Lord, if you have enough funds, you could completely restore this place to its original state. The environment here is quite good, though a bit desolate. Given time, I think it could become the center of Flanders again.” Mihajevic seemed very interested in the place.

“Is that so? I’d like that too, but can we really settle here? A single band of barbarians could turn us into corpses,” Cohmer said half-jokingly. The Flanders Valley was indeed a good place to settle down. To the east lay the Melan River Valley, where the Kingdom of Smyrna bordered the Kingdom of Iberia, and to the west stretched the majestic foothills of the Pyrenees Mountains.

“Heh, then let them try,” Mihajevic laughed as well.

Cohmer’s idea was simple: restore normal life order to the Flanders region. The Flanders Valley, which wasn’t rich in grain, held little value for the barbarians. What they needed most was grain, not linen. The Gdańsk Fortress was just a nuisance to them, not a serious threat. It seemed unlikely that the Kingdom of Iberia would launch an attack from here into the Cordillera Desert to assault the barbarians. If some kind of compromise could be reached with them, it might be possible.

Cohmer had even thought about who could serve as the governor of this region. Neptune would be perfectly suited for the reconstruction and restoration work here, while governance in Leon could be handled by the Carreira Knights of the Order of Mercy. The Order’s excellent performance in the Caucasus and Leon had won Cohmer’s approval and respect. Toward this monastic group, which was completely different from the Church of Light, Cohmer felt more respect than hostility.

As they were joking around, chaotic footsteps came from the end of the street in the distance. Looking at the ordinary people around him, whose faces showed fear but who didn’t leave, Cohmer already knew who was coming. But that was just fine—he needed to have a serious discussion with the barbarians anyway.

The group before them was a typical barbarian patrol combat squad of seventeen men, led by a Earth Dragon warrior. The fact that a field patrol squad had an Earth Dragon warrior as its attack core proved that the major tribes in the southern part of the Barbarian Alliance were far more combat-effective than small tribes like the Sanjia tribe in the north. Thick dragon spears were slung across their backs, and their arrogant expressions were evident on their faces. Coupled with the Earth Dragons’ massive bodies and ferocious appearances, they indeed looked quite imposing. However, the armor worn by the Earth Dragon warriors seemed somewhat mismatched, though it was still far superior to that of the infantry warriors around them.

The three hurlers had feathered javelins stuck behind them—long-range weapons with a range of up to eighty meters. Though not comparable to mortal archers, their power was much greater than that of crossbow arrows. In the leather bags hanging from their waists, the handles of several small stone axes could be faintly seen. These were small stone axes designed for close-range throwing attacks. Although their blades were made of stone, they were crafted from special Luoshan stone from the Baden Golden Mountain Range, which was extremely hard. After processing and sharpening, they became incredibly sharp, capable of piercing metal and stone upon being thrown.

Ten axe warriors, who formed the core of the combat force, carried axes on their shoulders—most of which were made of Luoshan stone, while three were clearly iron axes from the mortal world. Both in terms of material and craftsmanship, they were far superior to those produced by the barbarians themselves, indicating a significant improvement in their combat capabilities. In Kommer’s memory, in the past, at most the squad leader of a barbarian field patrol could have an axe made of refined iron, but now they had three!

The remaining three were clearly spear warriors serving as the assault force. Their three-meter-long bladed spears could clearly not have been made by the barbarians themselves. The dark-colored front parts of the spears were clearly designed for heavy-armored pikemen, but they looked somewhat out of place paired with their crude leather armor. Kommer could even tell that these fully iron-made weapons clearly came from the Caucasus! It was unknown how much gold shields the barbarians had spent on these items. Given the strict blockade in the Caucasus, smuggling weapons was an extremely risky business, and carelessness could lead to catastrophic consequences. Yet even so, it couldn’t stop those greedy smugglers driven by profit.

The Earth Dragon warriors were the first to spot Komer and his group and sent out an alarm. The field squad quickly dispersed into an attack formation. The throwers had already drawn their throwing axes, while the axe warriors rushed forward at full speed, forming a crescent-shaped attack front. The three spear warriors, on the other hand, simply raised their iron spears coldly, staying on guard and ready to launch a sudden assault at any moment.
The axe warrior in the center was the only one wearing a face-covering helmet. Clearly, this man was the leader of this field patrol squad. He was somewhat surprised by Komer and his group’s calm demeanor. He gently pulled down his face cover, shifted his axe to his left shoulder, and raised his right hand high. Once he pressed it downward, the throwers behind him would deliver their most fierce attacks!