Chapter 1281: A Deadlock

“That’s right. Fight to the last.”

The campsite backed against hills, retreat uphill into gunfire impossible. Each rescue team operated alone — no reinforcements coming, none close enough to matter. Fish Ball surveyed the situation and arrived at one conclusion: hold the encampment, or die trying.

They were outnumbered by something close to twenty to one. Most of his soldiers had come loaded with food and clothes and nothing else, and not a single heavy machine gun sat on their side of the line. This was going to be fifty against a thousand.

Fish Ball admitted to himself, without flinching from it, that he was scared. But he was no longer the coward who had once counted every escape route before drawing breath. Four years in uniform had changed something in him. He had an obligation now — to these men, to this ground, to getting them all out alive.

He would make the refugees pay for every meter before he fell.

His team members seemed to have reached the same conclusion without being told. They held their fire and let the enemy approach. Two hundred meters. The gap narrowed.

Ammunition was finite. The most efficient killing was done close.

The danger cut both ways — at shorter range the enemy would shoot straighter too — and so willpower became the only currency that mattered. Fish Ball waited nearly a minute, watching through his telescope as the distance collapsed to a hundred meters. At that range he could read faces. These were not windswept, hollow-cheeked refugees. They moved with a settled, unhurried assurance, and not one of them showed a flicker of reluctance.

He no longer had to worry about innocent blood.

Fish Ball centered the man at the front in his sights and pulled the trigger.

His team fired with him.

Gunshots split the air above the encampment like cloth tearing. The leading men dropped; the rest slowed, went prone, and returned fire. Fish Ball could not tell whether the nobles had trained their people or the demons had — either way, both sides were now exchanging rounds across the blood-darkened ground.

Then the enemy rolled forward a pair of two-wheeled trailers, cloth-covered. Fish Ball assumed they were props — part of the refugee disguise, too cumbersome to abandon. He kept that thought until the cloth came off.

A Mark I heavy machine gun.

The world reduced itself to noise and flying dirt. Tracer rounds stitched white lines through the air. The whole encampment shook. Dust geysered from the parapets. Only the fortresses kept Fish Ball’s men alive and firing.

The HMG was close — no more than two hundred meters — and the gun crew needed time to reposition between bursts. Fish Ball used that time.

“Hanson!”

Hanson was already moving, bent low, rifle in hand, threading toward the edge of the fortresses.

By the Operation Manual, a unit short of ammunition was supposed to call for artillery support or concentrate suppressing fire. There was no artillery. There was only shooting back and hoping the gun crew blinked first.

While the enemy reloaded, Fish Ball and the others hammered the trailer with every round they could spare. Hanson dropped the gunners. The men who climbed up to replace them died too, one by one, before they could settle in.

Without the HMG, the charge stalled and peeled back. The deadlock held.

“Why haven’t they taken the campsite yet?” Marwayne was stamping at the crest, watching the sun lean toward the hills. “Viscount Narnos, your men are cravens. What takes them so long to crush one unit? If they can’t win by nightfall, we’ll let the Graycastle men slip through our fingers.”

“They’re doing their best — and your men are no better,” Narnos replied, jaw tight. “You have the largest army here and it’s sitting at the rear. Move your main force forward and we’d have been inside their camp an hour ago.”

“You —” Marwayne swallowed the rest.

Once I am King of Everwinter, you will pay for that.

But that was later. Right now he needed to win, or the Sky Lord would abandon him.

He could not understand why the battle had dragged on this long. The plan had been immaculate: no ambush in town, no surrounding their camp — just a clear valley where both sides could see the other plainly. He had thought of everything, even executed the townspeople who might have exposed them. The Graycastle men had noticed nothing until they were only a few hundred meters out. The alliance outnumbered them in guns, in men, in everything.

There were fifty of them. He had more than two hundred firearms.

Yet the alliance army could not push off the hill. Repulsed again and again, bleeding men each time, while the Graycastle line seemed to absorb every blow without weakening. It was as though each of those fifty soldiers ran three rifles at once — suppressing two positions while a third reloaded.

The flintlocks Marwayne had trusted so completely were nearly useless. Worse: they had turned on their own operators, wounding men who huddled near them until no one dared approach. From the hilltop, Marwayne could see bodies heaped around the guns like an offering.

The Kingdom of Everwinter could not manufacture bullets. If this battle yielded nothing, he would have no ammunition for the next fight.

“Don’t despair, my lord,” Fueler said, following his gaze. “Look at how rarely they fire now. Their rounds are nearly spent. In a few minutes we’ll settle this the old-fashioned way — sword and shield. And remember: they only have bolt rifles. We have everything else.”

But if it ends that way, there will be no ammunition to take from them. Marwayne pushed the thought aside and summoned a guard.

“Tell them the promised reward doubles if they win this battle. The first man through the enemy’s gate gets a hundred gold royals.”

Chapter 1281 - A Deadlock

Translator: Transn Editor: Transn “That’s right. Fight to the last.” The campsite was against hills, so it was impossible to retreat to the crest against the gunfire. As each rescue team acted separately, they would not get reinforcements anytime soon. Considering the precarious situation, Fish Ball judged that the best way to repel the enemies was to hold onto this encampment. Not only far outnumbered, most of the soldiersonly brought food and clothes with them. There was not even a single HMG on the campsite, so they were not able to defeat the enemies with advanced, long-distance weapons. This was going to be a “50 to 1,000” situation. Fish Balladmitted that he was scared at this moment, but he was no longer the coward who used to only think about escapes. As the unit leader, he had the obligation to get his whole team out of the dilemma. He must have those refugeespay the price before he died here. Apparently, his team members were also thinking the same thing, for they were now letting the enemies approach them. Currently, the two parties were less than 200 meters from each other. Since they had limited ammunition, the most efficient way to kill the “refugees” was to shoot at a close range. In the meantime, the enemies would also fire more accurately as the distance between the two parties shortened. This method was, therefore, a double- edged sword, and at present, willpower determined everything. Fish Ball waited for nearly a minute for the enemies to approach. Finally, they were at 100 meters from the First Army soldiers. Within this distance, he could already see the faces of these traitors through the telescope. His suspicion was thus confirmed. Unlike windswept and weary refugees, most of them looked poised and self-assured. There was not the slightest sign of reluctance in their act of demeanor. He did not have to worry about having innocent blood shed anymore. Fish Ball aimed at the enemy at the very front and pulled the trigger. His team members also fired at the same time. In an instant, gunshots rented the air above the encampment. As the enemies at the front fell, the rest of them all slowed down and began to shoot at the First Army as well. Fish Ball was not sure whether these refugeeshad learned to use the firearms by themselves or they had received some sort of training from the demons. Anyway, both parties started to shoot each other. Just at that moment, the enemies pushed a few two-wheeled trailers covered with cloth to the front. Fish Ball was familiar with this type of transportation tool. Compared to a carriage or a mule, a trailer was more often used for moving and carrying heavy cargo. He had thought that the enemies used these trailers simply to make themselves look more like refugees, and he was surprised to see that they had not abandoned those props yet. It was not until the enemies uncovered the cloth that Fish Ball realized that it was a Mark I type HMG underneath! The enemies began to fire. The rain of bullets immediately suppressed the attack of the First Army. It appeared that the bullets thatthe enemieswere usingwere all tracers, and the HMG was much more accurate than bolt rifles. The whole encampment was thus stirred. Dust and mud flew in all directions. Thanks to the fortresses, the soldiers from the First Army were still able to fight back. Fortunately, the enemies did not fire from far away but carried the HMG along as they charged. The machine gun was, therefore, only around 200 meters away from the defensive line. Since the First Army was fairly scattered, the enemies had time to position. “Hanson!” Fish Ball yelled. Hanson gestured that he understood and ran toward the edge of the fortresses while carrying his gun. The First Army seldom ran into a disadvantageous position because of the lack of weapons. According to the Operation Manual, once the army was short of ammunition, the soldiers should immediately request for the support of the artillery at the rear or concentrate on suppressing the enemies’ gunfire. Apparently, in the current situation, the only thing that the unit could do was to shoot directly to deter the enemies. While the enemies were reloading the HMG, Fish Ball and his team members fired ferociously to distract the enemies. Hanson also successfully shot down the gunners on the trailers. Those who attempted to clamber onto the trailers were immediately shot dead one by one. Without the support of the HMG, the charging enemies were soon repulsed, and the battle went back to the beginning. “Damn it. Why haven’t they taken the campsite yet?” Marwayne complained irritably as he looked up at the sinking sun while stomping impatiently. “Viscount Narnos, your guys are all cravens, aren’t they? What takes them so long to crush a unit? If they can’t win by the end of the day, we’ll let the Graycastle men escape right under our noses!” As the commanders, the nobles did not have to fight at the front in person like their squires and mercenaries. Plus, the Graycastle men never followed the rules of war between nobles. They never reserved their power or exchanged captives. The nobles knew perfectly well the arrogant attitude of the Graycastle men. Charging at the front would not bring them any honor or respect but only a miserable defeat. “They’re doing their best, and your men aren’t any better than mine either,” Narnos retorted indignantly. “You have the greatest army, but they’re all at the rear. If your main force moved a little bit forward to the front, we would have taken the encampment a long time ago.” “You — ” Marwayne was at a loss for words. He rested his eyes upon the front again and promised to himself that he would seek revenge later. “Once I become the King of Everwinter, you’ll pay for your insolence!” However, right now, Marwayne knew that hemust win. Otherwise, the Sky Lord would abandon him. He did not understand why the battle took so long. Everything went well as planned. To fool the Graycastle men, they did not set up the ambush in the townor surround their encampment but awaited in this valley so that both parties would have a clear view of the opponent’s force. He had considered every single detail of this operation to make sure that they would not blow their cover. He had even killed all the townsmen who might possibly give away their true identity. In fact, just as he had planned, the Graycastle men did not raise any suspicion until they were several hundred meters from each other. The nobles had far more firearms and soldiers than their opponent, and this battle should have ended in a second. Whydid they still not gain the campsite? Even if every one of the Graycastle soldier possessed a weapon, there were only 50 of them, but the alliance army of the nobles had more than 200 guns! Marwayne was indebted to a belief that the Graycastle soldiers should have been vanquished under such an unfavorable condition. But the reality seemed to be exactly the opposite. The alliance army could not move any further from the hill, and for many times, they had been repelled by the gunfire of the Graycastle soldiers. Their attack, however, had not weakened the Graycastle men at all, as though the enemies were possessed of an unusual power that enabled them to operate several guns at the same time. The flintlocks that Marwayne had put great faith in were almost ineffective. They not only failed to break the spirit of the Graycastle soldiers but a lot of times, they wounded their own soldiers. From the top of the hill, Marwayne could see bodies litter around the flintlocks, so nobody had the courage to operate them anymore. If things went on like that, everything he had dreamedof would remain as a dream. The Kingdom of Everwinter did not possess technologies to produce bullets. If he could not obtain sufficient ammunition after this battle, he would have no chance to win the Graycastle men again. “Don’t worry, your lordship,” Fueler comforted. “As far as I see, the enemies fire less frequently now, which indicates that they’re running out of ammunition. Just in a few minutes, we’ll fight this battle out in the traditional way. Remember that the Graycastle men only have flintlocks, but we have everything.” “But in that case, we won’t be able to get more ammunition from them,” Marwayne thought to himself in anguish. He would have to ask the Sky Lord for more. The most pressing task for him now was to eliminate these Graycastle soldiers as soon as possible. Marwayne thus summoned a guard and ordered, “Tell them that the reward I promised earlier will double if they win this battle, and the first one who enters the enemies’ campsite will receive 100 gold royals!”