Herald of Steel

Chapter 87 Loss Statistics

Alexander woke up at the crack of dawn, surprisingly the crackling boom of thunder that was playing outside.

And soon, the pitter-patter of raindrops started atop his leather tent, as a torrential rainfall greeted him first thing in the morning.

"Mnnn," By his side, the nude seductress moaned as Alexander's movements disturbed the beauty's sleep.

And this sensual sound drew Alexander's attention to his partner sleeping beside him, and the erotic sight that greeted him immediately made his little brother wake up, which was almost a perfect replay of yesterday's happenings.

Cambyses lay asleep bare, her face down and peaceful, as she exposed the sexiest part of her body to the heavens above, unhindered to Alexander's gaze- her glorious ass.

The unblemished, fat piece of meat was no longer the previous flawless white, but the brutal spanking had dyed it with a red hue and Alexander could even see tiny blisters under her skin, as a turbid puddle of holy nectar and white goo pooled around her nether region, her petals and inner thighs decorated with crusts of white dried flanks of his essence.

This erotic scenery once again reminded him of the magnificent time he had with this hot piece of ass, how he had kneaded it, how he had spanked it, how he had abused it, and how it made Cambyses sing the most lascivious songs and his hands could not resist coping a feel again.

"*Squeeze*," Alexander relished in the springy, bouncy feeling as memories and sensual sensations came flooding back and his little brother urged him to start his morning exercise.

"Master, mmnnn," Cambyses cooed in her sleep as the pleasurable stinging sensation appeared again and she unconsciously started drooling down there.

This siren's call made Alexander feel getting up in the morning was becoming exponentially more difficult as he resisted the urge to just pound the sexy succubus here and now.

But just like yesterday he lampooned how reality got in the way of his whims and fantasy and so, with a playful,"*Spank*, naught slave," he got up.

He covered Cambyses with a nearby blanket as it was getting a little nippy and then refreshed and dressed himself, ready to take on the long day.

Alexander came out of the cozy tent, being immediately blasted with the chilly, moist gust of the approaching winter and after giving Hemicus the same order he had given yesterday, to go get Mean, he made his way to the command tent, escorted by a guard who held a primitive umbrella or more accurately a parasol above him.

Soon, the five leaders representing their individual mercenary groups and Menes now representing the Cantagenans gave attendance in front of Alexander and submitted their written report, detailing the condition of their respective groups.

"Hmmm, the numbers are as bad as I thought," Alexander sighed loudly after viewing the parchments, making the others cast a gloomy shadow on their faces and silently agree with this assessment.

Seeing this, Alexander did not choose to sugarcoat the matter to boost morale.

He had always believed instead of lying and being comforted with made-up statistics, it was better for the higher-ups to confront the truth so that they can better prepare for the future, "I will now read aloud the combined report, so all of you can get a complete picture of the situation." he stated.

He then spoke, "The losses for the first battle are as follows: First the Cantagenans- They started the war with nineteen thousand (19,000) infantry, five thousand (5,000) archers, and six thousand (6,000) cavalry."

"In the first battle their losses were catastrophic, their entire cavalry and sixteen thousand (16,000) infantry and archers were lost. So, they lost twenty-two thousand (22,000) in that fight." He calculated.

"Moving on to Damious- They started the war with seven thousand (7,000) infantry, Heh, so much for the leader of a ten thousand mercenary team." Alexander could not help but taunt the late mercenary leader who usually called himself such mostly as an advertisement strategy.

But he quickly returned to track, "Anyways, in the first battle he lost two thousand five hundred (2,500) as killed or wounded."

"Afterwards, Alcmene had three thousand (3,000) and lost a thousand (1,000), Regias had three and a half thousand (3,500) and lost a thousand (1,000), Meniscus with two and a half thousand (2,500) suffered five hundred (500) casualties, Petricuno with two thousand (2,000) lost five hundred (500), Melodias with a thousand (1,000) men had seven hundred and fifty (750) killed or wounded and then, at last, I had thirteen hundred (1,300) men and lost four hundred (400)." Alexander finished.

"The Cantagenans suffered so much in the first battle. I wonder why?" Petricuno asked puzzled, a frown decorating his forehead.

Alexander quickly gave the answer, "The reason for the Cantagenans suffering such a hugely disproportionate number of casualties was because, one" he raised his thumb, "they were much less trained and much less experienced than us, so they were less disciplined and broke formation too quickly. And two" Alexander said raising his index finger, "the more important reason being they were in the middle section of the army which was most hit hard by both the fleeing cavalry and the Adhanian slingers, absorbing the bulk of the damage."

"Yeah, those poor guys were indeed unlucky," Heliptos had a tinge of sympathy for the innocent conscripts.

'Oh, the greedy pig has actually a heart?' Alexander thought in surprise as he was reminded that humans were not cupboard cutouts of just one trait.

"Heh, better them than us," Menicus's gruff unfeeling sneer countered Heliptos.

Alexander here refocused his attention on the data and decided to tally up the results for everyone's convenience, "So, in summary, we had fifty thousand (50,000) at the start and lost twenty-eight thousand five hundred (28,500)."

"Amazing, commander!" Melodias let out an abrupt cry of disbelief at the speed Alexander was able to give such a precise number.

"Huh?" Alexander looked confused at the sudden, out-of-nowhere praise.

"Hehe, only someone blessed can do such complex calculations so quickly," Menicus smiled and agreed.

'Oh, I forgot these bumpkins can probably at best only identify and copy numbers. Simple mental arithmetic is considered advanced calculus to them,' Alexander had an undeserved, smug feeling rise up in his heart.

Though his inherent advantage lay in his advanced learning thanks mostly only due to living in the right time, Alexander did quite like being praised for his intellect.

It was a vain feeling, but even Alexander was human and not immune to such flattery.

But he kept the façade of a professional poker face and continued, "Now, for the second battle: "Cantagenans had eight thousand (8,000) remaining, of which two thousand (2,000) were wounded and unable to participate, so six thousand (6,000) were killed."

"Damious retreated with two and a half thousand (2,500) after losing two thousand (2,000). Alcmene lost one thousand and five hundred (1,500), Regias suffered two thousand (2,000) men as casualties, while five hundred (500) men from each of their camps chose not to follow them. And at last my camp lost around a hundred (100) men."

Alexander then looked up to see the silent dark faces and continued,

"So to tally up, the second battle had around fourteen thousand (14,000) men and about two thousand five hundred (2.500) survived. *Sigh*, almost five out of every six men died." Alexander could not help lampoon at the imprudent attack, though in the long run, he was its greatest beneficiary.

The others too took some time digesting the horrifying losses and Menicus joined in with Alexander's sigh, "Haaahhh, these numbers are really something. In my thirty-five years of fighting. I have heard of such numbers but never seen them."

"Out of the fifty thousand, we lost forty thousand. Those Adhanian bastards really showed us," Melodias cussed with clenched fists, both praising and cursing his opponent, a sentiment seemingly shared by all in the tent.

Alexander too felt a bit surreal announcing these numbers aloud, being even a bit flabbergasted at their eighty percent loss rate.

Even though he had mentally made similar projections, it was still a large shock for him to witness the loss of forty thousand souls within a span of a few hours.

Even in Alexander's previous life, where countries possessed weapons of far greater lethality, such huge losses within such a small time frame were almost unheard of.

But Alexander did not let his mind wander for too long as his eyes regained their sharp focus and said, "So to recap, we have, counting the wounded, around ten thousand troops in total left.

Heliptos has- Two thousand five hundred (2,500).

Petricuno has- One thousand five hundred (1,500).

Menicus has- Two thousand (2,000).

Regias and Alcmene mercenaries have- Five hundred (500) each.

Melodias has- Two hundred and fifty (250).

And I have - Three thousand (3,000)."

Alexander counted the Cantagenans as his own.

This raw number was known to many, so they only nodded, though some had a tinge of pain in their heart as Alexander, who was already so popular, at least on paper have the highest number of troops.

They had all assumed the Cantagenans were at most a thousand men and even then most were wounded, but with two thousand of them, even if only fifty percent of them were combat worthy, it was still a large number.

A few leaders lampooned that if they had known this earlier, they would have split the Cantagenans among themselves, and now could only console themselves by saying these green conscripts were no match for their veteran troops.