When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

"Master Knight, fish, please eat."

Looking at the charred river fish in his hand, the knight with the collapsed nose leading the group did not eat. He glanced around; only seven or eight knights remained.

Dust covered their armor, and they lay on the muddy ground without any knightly etiquette.

Taking advantage of the night, they escaped from Joan of Arc Castle and ran for half the night to reach here.

But just a few days ago, their daily breakfast was delicate cheese bread and steak.

Now there was only a palm-sized fish, charred black.

He was Duke Kush's Knight Commander, and those men were just a bunch of unarmed farmers.

Now Duke Kush was dead, Joan of Arc Castle had fallen, and they had fled in defeat, losing all honor. Their knightly titles might even be stripped away.

Thinking of this, the knight couldn't help but burst into tears. His crying stirred the others, who soon also wept.

"Alright, stop crying, stop crying." After almost ten minutes, the knight named Droolte relied on his longsword to stand and stuffed the charred fish into his mouth, "Dry your tears, what does this look like."

"Knight Commander, what should we do now?"

Long blades of grass brushed against Droolte's waist as he looked toward Joan of Arc Castle, with eagles circling in the morning light.

"Let's go report to Prince Kongdai. They resisted and dared to kill the noble Duke..."

The knight with the collapsed nose took a deep breath.

"Once the decree arrives, we'll show them the meaning of cruelty!"

......

Inside the Joan of Arc Castle City Hall, Salvation Army flags already hung on the walls.

Soldiers and the wounded lay scattered on the luxurious carpet in the corridor, resting their heads against altars, dozing off.

Busak had to carefully tread between bodies and limbs on the ground to find space, enabling him to push open the doors of the council chamber.

Inside the door, Jeska was standing before Horn, reporting on earlier looting incidents.

"...Those troublemakers who took advantage of the chaos for mischief were all hanged. I maintain my stance: no murder, no looting, and no insulting women.

If they extort money, gamble, or seek out Liu Ying, I'll turn a blind eye, but don't push it."

"Understood." Jeska nodded, summoned a few black-clad soldiers from outside, and walked toward the outer chamber.

At that moment, Horn's head was wrapped in bandages, his beard was unkempt, and bloodshot eyes filled with exhaustion.

On the velvet seats of the City Hall, Jeanne's arm was slung across her chest, her head reclined against the chair's back, snoring intermittently.

Busak handed a few sheets of white paper, stained with dirt, to Horn: "From the City Hall and the church, we've secured approximately 40,000 gold pounds, currently being used to purchase medicine and bandages. Here are the accounts."

Taking the accounts, Horn glanced briefly and set them aside: "Are the granaries open?"

"Yes, the first batch of relief grain has been distributed. However, the grain merchants are quite dissatisfied and demand to see you..."

"What about the citizens?"

"They're also demanding to see you, insisting that the Duke's tens of thousands of gold pounds belong to them and wanting it back."

"Dream on. Tell them this money is the devil's asset. If they claim it as theirs, they're aiding the devil." Horn pulled out a note and scribbled quickly on it, "If they don't comply, accuse them of 'Devil Support Crime' and send them to the ice cellar in the west to sober up!"

Stamping the note with a radish, Horn took a crunchy, sweet bite of the radish: "Anything else?"

"There's also this." Picking up the note, Busak pulled out a frayed yellow sheet and handed it to Horn, "This is our post-battle casualty report."

Although he knew the death toll would be horrendous from this battle, seeing the list Busak presented still left Horn breathless.

Horn's group mobilized nearly 12,800 strong young people, with many laborers joining later, both men and women, totaling around 15,000.

Among these Salvation Army refugees, 476 died, 1,127 severely injured, 1,453 lightly injured, 1,644 missing, and 1,912 fled.

The final count showed only about 8,300 could continue fighting, with casualty rates among veteran soldiers nearing half, while trained Holy Gunmen saw less than a third killed.

Truth be told, if Dane had truly held out and gathered remaining knights to fight Horn on Citizen Road, Horn might have been the one beheaded.

But the Duke had lived indulging in luxury and leisure, always active outside for a quarter of the year.

He claimed to be training a secret army, but current intelligence suggested he socialized in Falan Royal Capital, lacking the resolve.

Placing the list on the table, Horn walked to the window.

He opened the small round window and looked outside; sleepless, he couldn't shake off the fatigue in his eyes.

By now, the morning bell had rung, and the cries of the wounded in the city hall square almost drowned out the bell's sound.

Boiling pots simmered linen bandages, with columns of smoke rising at the city's center.

Veteran army medics applied splints wrapped in herbal ash to broken bones or poured freshly prepared medications into the mouths of the wounded.

Adults wept as they led children searching for their relatives among the sick and dead.

At the city hall entrance, corpses and refugees lay scattered, the refugee army exhausted, sleeping wherever they could find a spot.