Chapter 153

Count Luódélìkè named his three sons Luójie, Ruìkǎdé, and Lúsī respectively; perhaps from the order of the names, one can see his attitude quietly changing over time.

But these are no longer important, because Ruìkǎdé Lèsīwēi'ěr has already died in battle, and he and his sons will follow in his footsteps.

Měiyī, coordinating with the surrounding cavalry and crossbowmen, first broke the circular formation where Ruìkǎdé Lèsīwēi'ěr was stationed; when she repeated the tactic to break the third circular formation, the large square formation that Ruìkǎdé Lèsīwēi'ěr had set up by the stream collapsed.

The defeated soldiers fled in panic, and the excited cavalry spontaneously formed hunting parties, pursuing the scattered enemy troops.

Mei wanted to stop the slaughter, but most of the cavalry had already excitedly roared away, continually cutting down the fleeing enemy soldiers. She felt that no matter what she did, it was already impossible to stop.

They were also similarly repressing.

At this moment, they were consuming what little energy remained; perhaps before nightfall they would fall asleep snoring.

Mei's whole body was soaked in blood; after the Lèsīwēi'ěr infantry collapsed, she silently sat on her warhorse, blankly staring at the chaotic battlefield, the fleeing crowds, and the warhorses collapsed in the snow, continually neighing.

She saw tiny snowflakes falling on the warhorse's nose, swallowed by the horse's exhaled mist as it breathed painfully, resembling rolling cumulus clouds, as if slowly merging with a certain scene from her past life.

The sky was also a dull gray expanse; the distant shouts of killing made her feel as if she were in a dream of iron horses and icy rivers.

"Your Highness, are you alright?" Qiáozhì, Bèilún Táohā, and three youths stood guard silently beside her, only the warhorses continually snorting.

Mei was startled awake, she slightly turned her head and looked at them.

Snow melted on the bloodstained outer garment; the originally warm blood gradually turned icy, then slowly congealed together, so that whenever she moved she could feel the blood trapping her.

"I'm fine. Rally under my banner, gather the troops, treat our wounded." Mei gave the order calmly; perhaps she truly had only a hundred cavalry left.

She saw the soldier who often met her at Winterfall City fall beneath his warhorse, then be hacked down by the surging enemy; she saw Leight, deep pattern, big-small eyes, and tall Fet lying face-up in pools of blood.

Only when the battle was nearing its end did these images resurface before her eyes.

Wounded!

She dismounted, unsheathed her sword, and together with her fervor threw it to Berentoha; then she quickly untied her hairband, took off her outer leather armor and skirt, and jumped into the icy lake amid the youths' astonished cries.

"Don't worry!" she shouted at the youths.

She dove headfirst into the water, sinking deeper.

The lake water was icy and piercing; this was a direct way to wash off the blood, but it was not her purpose. When she surfaced again, she had an extra person in her hands.

He still wore armor tightly embroidered with the icefield wolf insignia.

Mei grabbed him with one hand and pulled him ashore; the three youths quickly dismounted and helped her pull him up.

After Mei got ashore, she quickly pressed on his abdomen; he spat out a mouthful of water and began to cough.

His face had turned purple from the cold, his whole body trembling.

"Take off his armor." Perhaps he could still be saved. "You know what to do next, right?"

The three youths nodded repeatedly.

"I leave it to you!"

She was shocked at her own distraction, which had nearly cost a soldier his life. In the battle she had seen this unlucky fellow fall into the water accidentally, and after completing her next move she had blankly forgotten him behind her back.

After handing the soldier over to the three youths, she swiftly returned to the battlefield, continually searching for still-living friendly warriors, and bestowing her own blessings upon the suffering, helpless soldiers.

After each battle, this task is always the most arduous.

Her father, Lord Eddard, would have the courage to wield cold ice and behead criminals one after another without blinking an eye, but Mei greatly doubted whether he had the courage to bring mercy to his own troops. The soldiers stared in amazement at her soaking-wet appearance as she moved across the various battlefields.

"Your Highness, are you alright like this?" Berentoha appeared rather slow-witted, leading his horse over to her side.

She exhaled steam, like a scalding hot spring.

"I'm fine. The battle hasn't fully ended yet; stay alert around us." She rose to her feet, retracting the fervor she had just thrust into the cavalryman's chest.

This was also a viscount she had promised, who did not live to see her fulfill that promise.

It had a head of disheveled brown hair; when he was young, while hunting he fell into a deep ravine, rocks gashed his face, leaving a scar that made him look ferocious while alive.

Mei had previously joked with him, saying the North might never have a viscount worse-looking than him; but after his death, that scar actually became gentle.

Mei grieved for him—grieving his death, grieving that she could not bury him properly, and grieving that she could not fulfill his dream.

Mei used her wet outer garment to wipe away the blood that Viscount Gelohwelington had left on her fervor.

"Farewell, viscount." Mei spoke softly, then quickly departed.

When she regrouped the troops again, after a headcount they had only one hundred fourteen still-healthy soldiers, seventeen severely wounded, and over ninety corpses. Among the surviving soldiers were Àidé Lèsīwēi'ěr, Méisīmǎrètè, and the three newly enlisted youths.

If another such "great battle" were to occur, the essence of Stark would be completely exhausted.

They collected over three hundred enemy corpses on the battlefield; other scattered bodies lay in distant fields, icy lakes, and vanished in apple groves and streambeds—those could not be tallied.

"Tell the herdsmen that the remaining weapons, arrows, coins, and armor all belong to them, the sole condition being that they tend to my wounded; tell them that if my wounded are not well cared for, this grassland settlement will turn to ash."

"Your Highness, I guarantee they dare not defy you." Luófú laughed loudly, Mei wondering how he could laugh like that, "Anyone who sees this battle will know Your Highness is invincible. We can rest well in the grassland settlement tonight, then we will gather the southerners in the dry grassland settlement and continue to cause trouble."

"We still cannot rest." Their warhorses were now more numerous than when they arrived.

"Your Highness, why can't we rest?"

"Two reasons. To the southeast, over a hundred scattered riders are approaching us, friend or foe unknown." Most likely enemies, "Furthermore, I want to bring the soldiers to spend the night at Long Creek City." Promises cannot be delayed too long; this is a lesson she has received.

"Long Creek City?" Luófú wondered, "From here to Long Creek City one must take at least a day! Our troops can't hold out any longer!"

"They can rest on horseback. If they are still decent riders, they should have that ability. I will guide their direction." The warhorses' neighs rose and fell; perhaps they sensed the weather turning cold, and if they did not return to the stables in time, they would likewise be unable to endure the cold night. Fortunately, their warhorses were more numerous when they entered the stream area; she did not worry that part would fail to support, "If we keep moving without pause, after a brief rest we will set out and reach below Long Creek City by the latter part of the night." Mei gripped her precious sword, looking at Sir Luófú, Sir Kongqi, Sir Àidé Lèsīwēi'ěr, Sir Méisīmǎrètè, and his sons, "The conditions we lacked when we first arrived below Long Creek City are now present."

"If I'm not mistaken, our numbers have dwindled further, Your Highness." Luófú withdrew his smile, solemnly gazing at Mei, as if she were making a grave mistake while he was offering excellent counsel.

"Sir, you haven't mistaken; you just haven't looked closely enough." Mei gave a weary laugh, extended her arm, and a crow descended. Amid the curious gazes of everyone, Mei seized the crow in her hand, "This is the crow left by Ruìkǎdé Lèsīwēi'ěr; it will reach Long Creek City before us, bringing news that the she-wolf has been exterminated. If it flies fast enough, Count Luódélìkè will have time to hold a feast for the castle's nobles; if they drink enough, our opportunity will come."

"Could it be that they cannot receive the true news?"

"Most likely they cannot; even if they did, the true news would be too fantastical, while false news would be sufficiently plausible."

"What about the scattered riders outside?"

"Kill or subdue them." Any other way?

"Damn it, if they hold a feast tonight, our spoils will be fewer!" Mercenary Bolong, seeming to have belatedly realized, interjected suddenly, causing the nearby soldiers to laugh.

Mei smiled faintly and nodded, actually beginning to appreciate him.

"Go quickly; perhaps we can still save many."