The Extra Wants To Live

Chapter 175: Lyanna [1]

Carl gave his soldiers a short break.

Milton also treated the wounded, but most of them were minor, and there wasn't much he could do.

The biggest loss in this battle was Carl's broken sword, but this could be easily compensated for by capturing the swords of other knights.

Because of Carl's inability to imbue objects with mana, or perhaps thanks to it, he was able to handle pretty much any weapon he could get his hands on.

Since he couldn't imbue his weapon with mana while fighting with physical abilities superior to those of a normal mana user, it was only natural that his sword broke every time he fought.

"If we continue to advance north like this, we will reach Ishul before reinforcements arrive," Catherine said, pointing at the map.

"There will be at least one more battle in between, but even then, it won't be able to keep pace."

The problem was that the Laurel Unit's marching speed was too fast.

This was natural, since there were few people and everyone was on horseback.

"I think it would be better to adjust it with supply to naturally slow down the speed,"

Catherine suggested, using the rebel supplies obtained from this battle.

Carl accepted this and took on an unnecessary burden of supplies.

The newly added wagons were loaded with food and water. In addition, he collected all the knights' weapons.

Also, since the opponents, like the Laurel Wreath Unit, did not use cavalry, they had many excellent horses that had lost their owners.

As a result, the Laurel Unit, with only 45 men in total, had to carry around 20 wagons packed to the brim and 45 spare horses.

The supply was so high that there was no real answer.

It was not the amount of supplies that the Laurel Unit, which was supposed to stir up trouble in the Palton Territory and disrupt the rebels, should be carrying.

It looked suspicious at first glance, but on the other hand, it was understandable.

Carl's Laurel Legion had to replenish its supplies through local raiding.

It wasn't a bad idea to pack as much as you can when you can.

Also, it would not be difficult to understand if it was a choice made by the young Grand Duke, who was only 18 years old, to maintain the undefeated legend of the Laurel Unit.

Being young also helped in these cases.

"Feed the soldiers well," Carl ordered.

The soldiers were allowed to eat as many different types of food as they wanted.

"Drink only enough so you don't get drunk."

"Yes!" they replied.

They even drank alcohol, but everyone drank in moderation, so no problems arose.

The moving path could also be changed naturally.

It took a lot of horse riding.

Horses are large animals; they eat a lot and drink a lot. Even if you feed them the grains you've stocked up on, there's nothing you can do about the water.

How much water do these horses drink a day, and how do they carry it all around?

"Isn't it too late if we continue like this?"

After a rest, they started to move, and Billford spoke with concern.

On the contrary, he wondered if it would be too late.

"We can't keep doing this. Supplies will dwindle over time, and when they reach their limit, we'll have no choice but to give up,"

Carl said calmly as he rode his horse.

If things continued this way, the balance of supply would collapse.

That would be considered a failure resulting from Carl's immature thinking. And if they tried to drag it out any longer than that, the other side would react differently.

"Depending on the situation, we will release the horse and move at the normal speed, either tomorrow at the earliest or the day after at the latest."

"Umm… … . Speak…."

Billford seemed disappointed that they had no choice but to let such great horses go.

But given the circumstances, there was nothing they could do.

"I've always been pressed for time, but I have to try so hard to slow down. I guess I've done all sorts of things in life."

As Carl spoke with a sly smile, Catherine and Billford smiled bitterly.

For a year, Carl had been galloping through the eastern part of the empire without rest for the Laurel Union.

They always ran so fast that their horses almost fell over from exhaustion in order to move a little faster.

But now they were moving in a staggering manner. Carl remembered the first time he went to Hillpin, he intentionally moved slowly.

"Haven't you been running too fast? I'm relieved to finally be able to take a break,"

Milton said in a slightly tired voice.

Milton's hair had gotten so gray over the past year that he was worried that if he continued to suffer like this for another year, he would really start to look like an old man.

Milton, who had always supported the Laurel Unit in silence, opened his mouth and said that it was difficult.

Carl opened his mouth for the suffering Milton.

"Now that I've had a rest, I can run again."

"… … ."

Milton said nothing. There was no point in complaining…

***

Purruk!

"Shit!"

Harmon became irritated when the horse stopped moving and started grumbling.

But he couldn't spur it on.

A horse that runs all day with minimal rest had long since reached its limit.

Harmon, as well as the sturdy imperial soldiers, were all knocked out.

Everyone got off their horses and gave them water.

Since drinking water didn't help people run, Harmon gave all the water he had to the horses.

Everyone walked while holding the reins.

The horses' strong legs gave out, and they trudged weakly on the ground, their heads constantly dropping.

"How much is left?" Harmon asked, exhausted and feeble.

He no longer had the energy to recall the map, find his way, or figure out how far he had left to go.

"There's not much left. Just a little more to go."

"Swoosh… Phew!"

At the soldier's words, Harmon took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully.

He kept urging his sagging legs and held the reins of the tired horse that was reluctant to move. Harmon was worried about whether he would be able to make it on time, despite being dehydrated and exhausted.

"Mr. Harmon."

So he couldn't see the new figure approaching from across the street until the soldier called out to him.

A sturdy person wrapped tightly in a robe approached slowly, leaning on a cane.

Harmon, whose brain had shut down due to exhaustion, didn't think much of him or her, but the soldiers, apparently not the ones who were there, hurriedly approached Harmon and grabbed him.

"What…?"

Clang, clang, clang.

The moment Harmon, who had not yet grasped the situation, asked in bewilderment, a heavy metallic sound rang in his ears.

Clang…..

The person who stopped in front of Harmon looked at him quietly.

It was only then that Harmon realized that the person was taller and more muscular than he had thought.

How big was it? At least 2m tall, and if you squeezed Harmon into its broad shoulders, it looked like two people could fit in it.

He thought it was slowly approaching from afar, but before he knew it, it was right in front of him.

"…What's going on?"

"I guess I should ask that."

A rough voice answered Harmon's question politely. The tone of speech was very polite, very… … .

Iron grumble.

…It was threatening.

Harmon heard the voice of this huge person and, somewhat suspiciously, realized that she was a woman.

And he also realized that she was wearing steel armor under the robe.

Suddenly, the giant woman was standing quietly looking down at them, holding the crude cane that had been resting on the ground like a mace.

Beneath the shadowy hood, scars squirmed, drawn messily, like crawling insects.

"The Palton Territory is sealed off."

It would be difficult to be this scary when the tone was polite. Harmon felt an unfamiliar fear that came from something out of the ordinary.

"We are on our way to the temple of Duren to ask for assistance." At Harmon's words, a light flashed in the shadow of the hood.

It felt strange to think that these were human eyes. The body was still, but only the lips and eyes moved.

"What kind of support are you talking about?"

"Mr. Harmon."

As the woman opened her mouth, the soldiers grabbed Harmon and dragged him back. The momentum had changed.

"I can't speak to someone whose identity has not been confirmed."

Harmon spoke with a tense expression behind the soldiers. At those words, the light flashing inside the hood disappeared.

Clank!

Chuck!

"Harmon, please step back."

As the woman raised her staff, the soldiers aimed their weapons and pushed Harmon further back.

The woman spoke in an unchanging, polite voice, her eyes shining with an eerie gleam as if she were about to strike down the soldiers before her at any moment.

"I am Lyanna of the Sisterhood of Duren. So, if you will speak to me, I will listen what you have to say"