Twenty or so cavalrymen charged into the village, where young men hastily grabbed long sticks, pitchforks, and hoes to defend themselves.
(Previously, in the first battle against cavalry, Alexander had suffered losses during the first round of cavalry charges, leaving him with just over twenty men.)
But their combat effectiveness was indeed lacking.
Alexander's men were not exactly seasoned veterans, but they had seen their fair share of battles, big and small. With the added advantage of their warhorses, they were more than a match for the villagers.
There was just a minor hiccup during the fight: Alexander's troops weren't equipped with spears and had to resort to fighting with longswords — true mounted combat and slaughter.
Even so, the sturdy Saint Martin warhorses, just by charging, could crush a grown man's internal organs.
The villagers resisted for a while, losing over twenty lives before eventually choosing to surrender obediently.
[Kill villagers, +10 experience]
[Kill villagers, +10 experience]
...
Alexander's current attributes:
[Level]: 6
[Strength]: 10
[Agility]: 10
[Intelligence]: 6
[Charisma]: 7
[Available attribute points]: 0
[Experience]: 2100/3200
[System coins]: 0
He gathered the villagers together and ordered them to hand over everything valuable.
Soon, they had collected a large pile of valuables, such as ceramic jars, velvet, wool blankets, and more.
Victor estimated their value at around 5000 denars.
"Retreat!"
Alexander quickly withdrew, not caring at all about the fate of the villagers.
As they fled, they didn't forget to set a fire.
Sure enough, not long after they left, an imperial officer arrived with his troops.
"What happened?"
He looked at the blazing village, angrily demanding an explanation.
A villager hurried over to inform him, "Lord Alfate, you... you've arrived just in time. They were bandits from the Kingdom of Saint Martin. They killed people and took everything."
Lord Alfate's eyes burned with fury. This village was his fief, and its taxes were a crucial source of income for his army. Now, with all the wealth taken and the houses burned, this year's tax revenue was likely going up in smoke.
"Should we pursue them, my lord?"
One of Alfate's fully armed men asked.
I think you didn't come out with your brain today. Your brain was left in that slut last night.
Indeed, that was the reason Alexander set the fire. He didn't believe the lord would abandon his own land just to pursue them.
In reality, ordinary people wouldn't be able to catch up, especially since Alexander's men were all cavalry. Carrying the stolen goods slowed them down considerably, but compared to regular infantry, they were still much faster.
At this moment, the entire troop was crossing the Dragon Mountains, heading towards the direction of the Kingdom of Saint Martin.
What were they going to do after looting the goods?
Of course, they were going to fence them. Why else would they carry these things with them?
Alexander and his men could have fenced the goods in the nearest city near the border, but they might not get a good price there.
After some consideration, Alexander decided to take a longer route back to Lisbon to fence the goods.
...
Just as Alexander was returning to Lisbon, Duke Ferdinand had already clashed head-on with the imperial army.
The other side was also a renowned noble.
So, following the ancient customs of nobles, the two sides set up their formations on a plain, with neither side launching a surprise attack.
Once both sides had their formations set, they charged simultaneously. This was the clash of strength.
As expected, the cavalry-dominated army of the Kingdom of Saint Martin easily defeated the infantry-dominated imperial army.
The noble who had observed the proper etiquette became Duke Ferdinand's prisoner.
Of course, Duke Ferdinand didn't mistreat him; he even granted him a horse to ride, giving this noble some dignity.
It wasn't because Duke Ferdinand was noble or treated prisoners well; it was because of their noble status. Who could guarantee they wouldn't be defeated? If they were captured by the enemy, they hoped the enemy would give them some face, at least allowing them to maintain some dignity.
There were certain unspoken rules among these nobles.
Having vented his anger with this victory, Duke Ferdinand was about to continue his march when suddenly, the king's orders arrived.
Duke Ferdinand read the letter that had been delivered to him. "By the King's decree, Marshal Hakes of the White Eagle Clan has been appointed, and all lords are to immediately gather their forces."
Folding the letter, Duke Ferdinand immediately returned to his troops; the King's gathering order must be followed.
"It's Hakes, that old fox, leading the troops," muttered Duke Ferdinand to himself. "Looks like something big is going on."
His troops quickly returned to Lisbon with a large group of prisoners, including the nobleman captured earlier, whom Duke Ferdinand handed over to Alexander.
"Wait until their family offers a ransom, then we'll release them," Duke Ferdinand instructed Alexander, emphasizing that the nobleman be treated well.
The nobleman, in his early thirties, stood with one hand behind his back, head held high, chin slightly raised, looking at Alexander with a hint of contempt — the quintessential noble demeanor.
After Duke Ferdinand departed, Alexander walked up and slapped the nobleman across the face.
"Who do you think you are?"
The slapped nobleman looked stunned, finding it hard to believe that this seemingly lowly individual would dare treat him so rudely.
"What... How dare you be so rude to a noble..."
Smack~
Otto followed Alexander's lead and slapped him as well. "What's the fuss? You lost, that's all. Our boss said, 'To the victor go the spoils.' You, a captured guy, still have so many demands?"
The nobleman wanted to say something else, but seeing the eager faces of the others, he forcefully held his tongue. He had figured it out. None of these guys were easy to deal with. Talking about the etiquette of nobles to them was like shooting arrows at cows.
Alexander ignored the nobleman. After selling off the goods, he spent 4,500 denars on a batch of lances, then recruited new soldiers, repaired equipment, and so on, with the remaining denars.
He was once again scraping the bottom of the barrel, as expected, maintaining an army was a money-burning business.
Just as Alexander was frowning because he needed money, the silent noble suddenly spoke up.
"It seems you're short of money!"
"What's it to you?"
"I have a way to make money. Interested in hearing it?"