Medieval: Kingdom Come: Deliverance

Chapter 193 Damaging Morale

Chapter 194 Damaging Morale

The rain was falling steadily, as if it would never stop.

At the gate of the Hungarian military camp, four soldiers huddled under the narrow gatehouse to take shelter from the rain. Rainwater streamed down their tattered leather armor, soaking their inner linen garments.

On the muddy ground in front of the door, several rough poles stood tall, with the corpses of deserters hanging from them swaying gently in the wind and rain, like a string of eerie teru teru bozu (Japanese teru bozu dolls).

"This damn weather, when will it clear up?"

A young soldier muttered a complaint as he rubbed his hands, which were red from the cold.

"Shut up, you're lucky to be alive."

The older soldier glared at him. "Look at those guys hanging there. Do you want to end up like them?"

'

Just as they were talking, four blurry figures on horseback suddenly appeared in the rain.

At first, the sentries thought they were seeing things, but when the four hooded cavalrymen approached quickly, they realized something was wrong.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

The older soldier mustered his courage and stepped forward to question him.

His response was met with four cold crossbow bolts. The four cavalrymen drew their already cocked crossbows from under their hoods, their movements perfectly synchronized.

"Puff puff puff puff—"

'

Four crossbow bolts pierced the sentries' throats with pinpoint accuracy; they fell into the mud before they could even scream.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

The guards inside the gatehouse rang the alarm bell in alarm, its clear sound echoing urgently in the rain.

The camp was immediately abuzz with activity. Soldiers, blacksmiths, armorers, carpenters, and merchants who made their living by working for the army all poked their heads out of their tents, only to be met with a vast expanse of rain.

"Swish swish——

""

The archers on the gate tower blindly fired arrows into the rain, the arrows falling limply into the mud. Meanwhile, the four mysterious cavalrymen had already turned their horses around and disappeared into the depths of the woods.

When the duty captain, still wearing his half-wet armor, rushed over with a squad of soldiers, he only saw the wide-open gate and four gradually cooling corpses outside.

"Where are they? Where are the enemies?" the captain roared.

"They... ran away after shooting their arrows—" a surviving sentry stammered in reply.

"Useless! Why didn't you stop them?"

The soldiers looked at each other, but no one dared to answer. To use infantry to intercept cavalry? That was nothing short of a pipe dream.

"Go, bring the body back!" the captain ordered several soldiers.

However, just as the soldiers cautiously approached the gate, the sound of hooves echoed through the rain once more. Four warhorses burst through the bushes at the edge of the woods, reappearing like ghosts.

The archers on the gate hastily released their arrows, but the rain blurred their vision, and the arrows either missed or struck the plate armor worn by the cavalrymen weakly. The four cavalrymen raised their crossbows again ten paces from the gate, and four more deadly bolts were fired.

"Close the gates immediately!"

The duty captain panicked and ordered his soldiers to retreat hastily, no longer caring about the corpses of his comrades outside the door.

The four riders once again departed with an air of nonchalance, leaving the military camp in utter silence.

Soon, news of the bizarre attack spread throughout the military camp. The soldiers whispered among themselves, their faces filled with unease.

Inside Commander Dukat's tent, the atmosphere was so heavy it seemed like you could wring water out of it.

"This must be the so-called Knights of the Silver Dawn!"

Ducat slammed his fist on the rough wooden table. "How dare they be so arrogant!"

The official Grozav leaned against a tent pole, a mocking smile on his face: "It's all your fault for failing to suppress the bandits. Now look what's happened, they not only intercepted our grain requisition team, but they even dared to come to our door. I must write to His Majesty the King to explain all this."

Dukat suppressed his anger. As an experienced commander, he knew that the most important thing now was to stabilize morale.

If even the bodies of the soldiers cannot be recovered, the morale of the army will completely collapse.

"Heltan, Zavesh!"

Dukat turned to the two commanders, "Which of you is willing to lead the troops out of the camp, collect the corpses, and drive away those damned cavalry?"

Zawis opened his mouth, but ultimately remained silent. Polish cavalry were in a precarious position in the muddy, rainy weather; their heavy armor would cause them to sink into the mud.

"Leave it to us Cumans," Hertan said, puffing out his chest. "Our light cavalry are best suited for fighting in this kind of weather."

"good!"

Duka nodded, "As long as you complete any task, I will recommend you to the King."

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Heltan gave Zawish a smug look and strode out of the tent.

Soon, a twelve-man Cuman cavalry unit was ready to go. Wearing rainproof hoods and carrying recurve bows carefully polished with grease, they nimbly mounted their horses. Under the expectant gaze of the soldiers, the twelve riders charged out of the stockade gate.

The other soldiers took the opportunity to drag the bodies back into the camp. Dukat and the other generals stood on the gate and gasped when they saw that all eight bodies had arrows in their throats.

"Sharpshooter..." Zavesh murmured, a hint of worry flashing across his face.

Time ticked by. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, half an hour... the twelve Cuman cavalrymen vanished without a trace, as if they had disappeared into thin air.

Under the anxious gaze of Dukat and the gloating look of Zawish, Hertan sent out another twenty-four cavalrymen to search.

However, the same fate befell them once again. The twenty-four cavalrymen also vanished into the vast rain, leaving no trace.

"They must have fallen into an ambush!" Hertan's face turned ashen, like a gambler who had lost everything, and he sent out another forty-eight cavalrymen.

Meanwhile, at the bend in the woods just 300 meters from the military camp, a group of dead Cumans lay scattered about, their bodies stripped clean.

Turning past the woods, a neat row of tents stood quietly.

These tents all came from Peter's mysterious weight-bearing space, a magical space with unlimited capacity that granted the Knights of the Silver Dawn unimaginable mobility.

When Peter proposed the plan to raid in the rain this morning, even the experienced Jessica and the fearless alcoholic Hynik hesitated.

Fighting in the rain makes both personnel and horses susceptible to illness, and rapid relocation near enemy camps is also a challenge.

But Peter defied all opposition. At this moment, he no longer concealed his special abilities.

With a wave of his hand, tents appeared in the forest clearing; with a flick of his finger, the charcoal in the iron basin ignited automatically; with a push of his palm, dried meat, bread, and water filled the tents.

After these days of consecutive victories, apart from Jessica and Hynek who still held back due to their loyalty to Sir Sokol, others such as Michael, Hurt, Adler, and János had all sworn allegiance to Peter.

Peter unlocked character panels for them, enhanced their strength, and enabled them to enjoy various aura bonuses.

At this moment, thirteen knights were sitting around in a warm tent, polishing their weapons and armor.

"The third wave is coming."

Jerry, who was in charge of keeping watch at the camp entrance, ran over to remind them.

"Get ready, they've taken the bait again."

The men quickly led out their warhorses. Adel charged out of the woods first, shouting taunts at the oncoming Cuman cavalry: "Come on, taste my Polish sausage!"

This crude provocation indeed enraged the Cumans.

Although the forty-eight cavalrymen realized there might be a trap, they still gave chase, driven by anger.

Just as they turned through a dense oak forest, Peter and the remaining twelve knights suddenly attacked.

In a clean and decisive clash, twelve Cuman cavalrymen fell from their horses.

"Create distance! Shoot them with arrows!"

Commander Cuman shouted at the top of his lungs.

However, the arrows in the rain were neither accurate nor powerful. In the exchange of crossbow fire with Peter and his men, more than a dozen Cumans fell.

The two sides closed the distance and began hand-to-hand combat.

The heavily armored knights of the Silver Dawn held an overwhelming advantage, routing the lightly armed Cuman cavalry.

Commander Kuman finally panicked and shouted for a retreat. But Peter and his men pursued relentlessly, chasing them all the way to the gates of the Hungarian camp.

Dukat and his men on the gate watched helplessly as several Cuman cavalrymen desperately fled back, only to be shot off their horses by crossbow bolts from behind just a few paces from the gate.

"No!!!"

Hertan's roar sounded particularly mournful in the rain.

The entire military camp fell into a deathly silence. The sound of rain pounding on the tents was exceptionally clear, like a death knell tolling for the fallen soldiers.

"Is anyone else willing to leave the camp?" Commander Dukat asked in a hoarse voice.

Heltan turned his head away, and Zawish lowered his head as well. No one answered. The fear of the unknown held them back.

Meanwhile, in the forest camp, Peter and the others finished collecting their spoils in the rain. One person stayed behind to continue monitoring the camp's movements, while the others returned to their tents to warm up and rest.

With Peter's aura of inspiration, they quickly regained their strength.

Only Jessica and the drunkard Hynik were still panting heavily; without Peter's full approval, they couldn't enjoy the full power boost.

An hour passed, and the gates of the Hungarian military camp remained tightly shut; no one dared to come out.

Peter knew the time had come.

He used the system space to collect all the tents and captured weapons and equipment, and led the knights and nearly eighty captured warhorses, running around the Hungarian camp in the rain.

"No taxes, no grain levies, let's welcome the King of Brunswick!"

"No taxes, no grain levies, let's welcome the King of Brunswick!"

Nearly a hundred warhorses galloped through the rain, their iron hooves pounding the mud, creating an astonishing spectacle.

The soldiers inside the camp peered out from behind the wooden fortifications, their faces ashen; some even began to weep secretly.

Many generals were too afraid to go into battle, and morale in the army camps was at an all-time low.

This shocking scene unfolded amidst the undercurrents of power struggles within the military camp.

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