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Chapter 590 - Chapter 591: Different Choices, Different Fates

Led by the Old Guards, along with a small contingent of local noble knights and peasant infantry regiments sent by Ryan, the rebellion suppression army under Baron Biocali Juan-Carlos Sunwatcher swept through southern Lyonnais with lightning speed. One rebel stronghold after another was swiftly taken.

Since joining Ryan's forces, Juan had been greatly influenced by Ryan and received detailed guidance before setting out. As a knight of the Sun Knights, he had a keen eye for strategy and tactics. After several battles with the rebels, Juan quickly judged that the rebels, despite their apparent momentum, were actually weak. Their growth amidst local nobles' suppression was mainly due to the following factors.

First, once armed, they were rebels; once they laid down their weapons, they were serfs. Many rebels were cunning, and the knights couldn't easily distinguish them, as a serf holding a pitchfork might genuinely be there to gather hay.

Second, the rebel serfs were adept at hiding. When the knights arrived, they would retreat into strongholds, hills, or forests, playing hide-and-seek. Over time, with insufficient numbers and severe food shortages, the knights had no choice but to withdraw.

Third, the rebel serfs generally received sympathy from ordinary serfs. This was crucial, and as Ryan explained, it was their "support base." Although Juan didn't fully understand the term, he grasped the concept.

This issue wasn't too complicated; the key lay in trust. The previous Duke of Lyonnais, Alderreld, had made major mistakes here, such as killing prisoners and surrenderers, which had a significant negative impact on the rebel serfs, despite its deterrent effect and saving food. It led to a loss of trust in the knightly nobles.

Thus, after detailed discussions with Earl Duren and Earl Lalotte, Juan ordered the distribution of relief grain. Juan followed the advice of the two earls, ensuring that relief grain was not given directly to local knights, as this would reduce the amount reaching the serfs. Nor was it distributed per capita, to avoid chaos and potential rebel infiltration.

Juan remembered Ryan's instructions, sending people to survey the nearby villages' populations, calculating the ratios, and then having village elders lead people to collect sacks of black bread. He warned these elders that any embezzlement or corruption would result in them losing their heads.

Next, Juan announced strict military orders, prohibiting all looting. If military supplies were needed, they would be compensated with food or money according to market prices.

Originally, there was a ban on soldiers engaging in illicit relationships, but the problem was that it wasn't the soldiers who wanted to cause trouble, but rather the serf women, and even some young noblewomen, who approached them. After years of war, there were many widows. Juan, after much thought, followed the advice of Earl Duren and Earl Lalotte, stating that those who caused trouble would be held accountable.

Coincidentally, a peasant infantryman who had followed Duke Ryan in many battles couldn't resist stealing a few eggs from a local serf. Juan seized the opportunity to punish him severely, publicly flogging him twenty times in front of the entire village, leaving him bloodied and barely alive.

This severe punishment not only disciplined the troops but also shook the entire old Mousillon domain. Rumors spread among the serfs that Duke Ryan's army was different from other knights; they were the embodiment of chivalric virtue, offering hope.

As a result, when rebel serfs came to villages seeking sympathy and supplies, the local serfs' attitudes changed. They not only refused to sympathize with the rebels but also bound and delivered them to Juan.

Moreover, Bellegar taught Juan a particularly effective tactic: during an annihilation battle, don't wipe out the enemy completely; let some escape to spread fear among the remaining rebels.

Sure enough, within days, despite the tens of thousands of rebels, the notion of the "invincible Old Guards" spread wildly among them, no matter how the rebel leaders tried to suppress it.

Taking advantage of this, Juan led a unit of Old Guards, two peasant infantry regiments, a team of dwarf artillery, and the knight forces of Earls Duren and Lalotte to attack the rebels' last strongholds.

The pressure on the rebels was like the overwhelming force of the Pale Sisters Peaks, suffocating everyone. Under this immense pressure, the remaining 30,000 rebels were forced to gather, with their leaders splitting into two factions.

One faction advocated immediate confrontation with the suppression army, believing they should defend along the river before being completely defeated. The other faction suggested retreating to the strongholds near the Arden Forest, gathering forces and holding out until the suppression army ran out of supplies.

After a long argument, they split into two groups: one defending along the river and the other retreating to hold out.

About 10,000 rebels defended the river, while the remaining 20,000 retreated to their last strongholds.

Upon reaching the river, the rebels rejoiced, seeing that Juan's suppression army had just arrived on the opposite bank. In the height of summer, the river flowed swiftly, and the rebel leaders set up camp, believing the knights wouldn't dare cross without enough boats.

Their strategy of river defense was correct, but their limited knowledge and narrow perspective rendered it useless. They were unaware of dwarf floating bridges, which required no boats.

With the help of dwarf engineer Dugan Ironhand and local fishermen familiar with the river, Juan and the two earls successfully built a floating bridge six kilometers upstream that night, crossing the river.

Most rebels were still asleep.

Juan patiently waited, ordering his troops to hold until the dwarf artillery had crossed before launching the attack.

Cannon fire erupted, followed by a knightly charge, and finally, the Old Guards led the peasant infantry regiments onto the battlefield. These battle-hardened troops, equipped with superior gear, showed the rebels what true professional soldiers were. The once formidable rebels, who had relied on long spears and large wooden shields to contend with the knights for years, finally broke.

Someone shouted, "The Old Guards are here!" causing panic and a chain reaction of collapse among the 10,000 rebels.

After a night of fierce battle, the rebel army of over 10,000 was utterly crushed, with less than 2,000 escaping and the rest captured.

Desiring labor, Juan strictly prohibited the killing of prisoners and surrenderers. He looked at the thousands of rebels kneeling and begging for their lives, feeling quite satisfied.

These were labor forces! Fresh, living labor forces.

After arranging the prisoners and leaving a portion of the army to guard them, Juan reminded his troops, following Ryan's instructions, not to kill prisoners unnecessarily, as they were essential for restoring production. The army continued eastward.

Along the way, the villages were deserted, with ruins, bleached bones, and overgrown weeds everywhere. Wild beasts roamed freely.

As the army advanced, the soldiers and knights grew increasingly solemn.

Raymond felt the saddest of all.

After years, he finally returned to his village, where he was born and raised.

But what awaited him was a wasteland. The village had long been abandoned due to war and plundering. To others, it might have been just another destroyed village along the march, but to Raymond, it was home.

Home was gone.

Seeing the village burned to the ground, with ruins and overgrown weeds, Raymond's heart ached. His house had long collapsed. When he reached his doorstep, he found the door broken open and the contents looted.

Raymond shook his head helplessly. "Well, there wasn't anything valuable at home anyway."

"Is this the village where you lived?" Baron Juan approached. Younger than Raymond, Juan wore the golden sunburst helmet, his youthful face full of vigor and confidence. He looked around and said, "I remember many refugees came from Lyonnais."

"Having lived in the Duke's domain for so long, I almost forgot that not every part of Bretonnia is as prosperous as the Duke's land," Raymond said sadly. "This village's condition is what most villages are like."

Earl Duren, weary from the journey, understood. This young man was a runaway serf!

And this runaway serf had become an Old Guard?!

The old noble felt a twinge of jealousy. After some thought, he decided to speak up, despite never talking directly to serfs before, as it would lower his status.

But Duren and Lalotte, unlike the still pretentious old Mousillon nobles, saw things clearly. Duren struck up a conversation. "From your accent, you're also from Lyonnais! You managed to escape. Do you know how many died trying?"

"Uh... hehehe," Raymond laughed awkwardly, feeling guilty as a runaway serf facing local nobles. As an Old Guard, he knew he represented Duke Ryan's honor, so he could only nod in silence.

Earl Duren didn't pursue the matter. He continued, his tone heavy. "Some, like you, escaped successfully. Others, out of desperation, started the rebellion. They raided knight homes, opened storehouses, and attacked guards. Over time, the serfs gathered, forming a rebellion. They left nothing but devastation, even raiding other serf's meager supplies. Local serfs suffered greatly, losing all their food and property, forcing them to rebel too. The rebellion grew like a snowball."

"Let's end this rebellion quickly," Juan sighed, once thinking all of Bretonnia was like Ryan's domain. "Minimize the killing; these are people."

"Yes!" everyone responded loudly.

Three days later, the suppression army surrounded the rebels' last stronghold in southern Lyonnais.

Inside, the rebels had learned of the river defense's failure. Over 20,000 rebels crowded into the small stronghold, doubting if their makeshift walls of wood,

 stone, and mud could withstand the suppression army.

Fear and tension filled the rebels, always on edge, expecting disaster at any moment.

In the cramped, foul stronghold, the rebel leaders debated their next move. They considered surrendering but feared the former Duke Alderreld's history of killing prisoners. Seeing only 2,000 soldiers (due to divided forces) in the suppression army, their confidence grew. They debated "fighting it out."

"Alan, can we really beat the Duke's army?" some leaders asked nervously. "Those are Old Guards!"

One leader, Alan, a young man in his twenties, had started the rebellion after his father was killed by overwork under a knight. Scarred, with tangled hair and one eye missing, Alan said uncertainly, "Those are just rumors. We've never seen them."

"But..." the rebels trembled at the name Old Guards.

"There are only 2,000 of them. We have over 20,000. What are we afraid of?" Alan snapped impatiently. "Let's fight. If we win, maybe Duke Ryan will pardon us! We could become freemen or soldiers, maybe even knights. Don't you want that?"

The rebels fell silent.

The next day, the stronghold gates opened. Led by their strongest warrior, thousands of rebels charged the suppression army with makeshift weapons and ragged armor.

The suppression army stood still, silently forming three ranks.

The rebels, puzzled, didn't have time to think. Suddenly, bright white flashes and clouds of smoke erupted from the suppression army, followed by thunderous gunfire!

"Boom! Boom boom boom!"

In an instant, the front lines of the rebels fell in droves. Blood and screams filled the air under the relentless barrage.

Then the peasant infantry opened their ranks, and a unit of Old Guards in splendid uniforms, half-plate armor, bearskin hats, and red and blue epaulets joined the battle. They wielded pikes, long-barreled muskets, and greatswords, advancing in orderly rows.

The rebels' strongest warrior, who had been undefeated in several strongholds, charged with dozens of men but was swiftly decapitated by an Old Guard officer with a pike. The remaining rebels scattered, their resistance laughable.

Amidst loud singing, cannon fire, and the knights' flank attacks, the Old Guards entered the fray.

They had fought many battles, from beastmen to the Red Duke, against Khorne's champion Egil-Redeye, in the Blackstone and La-Maisonelle battles against necromancer Heinrich Kemmler, and finally against Tzeentch's first demon and in the reclamation of Mousillon.

Against the rebel serfs, one look from them instilled terror.

"The Old Guards are here!"

"We're doomed!"

"Lady, have mercy on us!"

Thousands of serfs fled in panic.

From the walls, Alan knew it was over. He screamed, "Retreat!"

Too late. Dwarf cannons blasted the walls, scattering the defenders, followed by a knightly charge. With the Old Guards entering the stronghold, the rebels' defeat was certain.

In the chaos, two familiar figures met.

"Raymond?! Is that you? You're an Old Guard?!" a familiar voice made the Old Guard look up, his mouth agape in surprise.

"Alan?!"

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