When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#399 - Seize the camp and kill the general

The dark clouds were split open by lightning, and rain poured down like a waterfall through the opening.

The torrential rain was like a sea wave floating in the air, engulfing the tent's tarpaulin and Count Mattai's heraldic banners.

In the puddles beside the patrolling soldiers' leather boots, bubbles and tiny water columns were constantly being splashed up.

Obstacles and sharpened wooden stakes were scattered haphazardly around the perimeter of the camp, and hundreds of tents of various sizes swayed back and forth in the strong wind, the canvas flapping loudly.

Although it was only shortly after dinner, most of the soldiers were resting in their tents because it was difficult to light a fire in the rainy night.

Only occasionally would guard captains and other officers gather together, huddling in small tents, lighting the cheapest oil lamps, and repeatedly throwing wooden chips and dice on low wooden tables.

Occasionally, they would look up, pull the door curtain tight to prevent drifting rain from seeping in through the gaps.

Whenever this happened, they would cast envious and resentful glances at the most luxurious tent in the center, the tent of Count Mattai and the knights.

The most popular knights would come to the large tent to dine with the esteemed Count Mattai, and only those important figures could enjoy the armed farmers' daughters or townswomen found nearby.

The most miserable in this camp were the soldiers in the shack next to the checkpoint.

The makeshift shack was drafty on all sides for visibility, and the rain blew diagonally onto their bodies, with only a cloak and straw curtain to cover them.

Despite it being summer, the gate guards leaning on their spears beside the brazier were still sneezing.

However, summer thunderstorms usually came in bursts, and before long, the sound of rain hitting the shack became a drizzle.

Turning his head to glance at the brightly lit large tent, the guard yawned deeply, cursing with envy, "Fine wine and food, you'll be waiting for hellfire, oh dear."

A flash of white light suddenly appeared, startling the almost-sleeping soldier.

He looked up at the gray sky, and a purple lightning bolt tore a hole in the sky.

"Boom!"

Only then did the thunder echo from the valleys and plains, rushing towards the camp as if ten thousand horses were galloping.

"Holy Lord, what could that be?" The startled soldier looked into the rainy night for a long time, but in the moonless night, there was only a misty fog and withered branches and leaves like a wizard's fingers.

Perhaps it was an illusion? He was being too suspicious, the guard shook his head self-deprecatingly. In such a rainy night, what use was a gate guard like him anyway?

Reassuring himself, the soldier turned around, leaned his spear against the post, straddled his legs, and wanted to loosen his belt for convenience.

But for some reason, he still felt uneasy, as if some danger was about to come.

Lightning descended upon the world, and the mountains and camp were once again as bright as day. The soldier subconsciously glanced over.

Wait, what were those black shadows leaping in the rain?

Dazzling golden light bloomed before the guard's eyes. He didn't even have time to fasten his half-loosened belt. He grabbed his pants and rushed towards the horn hanging on the post.

"Whinny--"

"Get out of the way, kneel and you won't be killed!"

The lightning illuminated the armor of the Saintess in the rain, and the white light reflected from the armor burned and leaped like flames.

Jeanne's face was wet with rain, and her magic-dyed, light-golden hair clung messily to her temples. She stared down at the guard from above, like a Valkyrie from Norse mythology.

In the rain and lightning, the black warhorse leaped into the air, flying over the obstacles and spikes.

An explosive pain shot through the guard's right arm, and an immense force struck his chest, sending his entire body flying more than two meters away.

The warhorse's hind hooves landed on the muddy ground, and Black Carrot raised its two front feet, slamming them heavily onto the ground, splashing mud everywhere.

The guard's wails were completely drowned out by the sound of rain and thunder.

"Boom!"

Lightning flew from Jeanne's palm in the rainy night, smashing onto the horizontal wooden beam of the obstacle, forcibly creating an opening.

Hundreds of cavalrymen moved the burning ends of the wooden beam away and poured through this small opening.

Raising the battle flag high, Jeanne instantly locked her eyes on the brightly lit large tent.

Among the countless dark, small tents, it was simply too conspicuous.

"Quickly, charge!"

After shouting this command, Jeanne rushed out like an arrow, followed closely by more than two hundred Saint Gun cavalrymen, and more than three hundred light cavalrymen fell behind.

The distance from the camp gate to the large tent was only a few hundred meters. Count Mattai had not even staggered the large tent and the camp gate, but placed it straight at the end of the camp gate avenue.

The other patrolling guards along the way were still dozing or playing cards. One second they were looking down at mud, yellow earth, and dice, and the next they were seeing the arcs of warhammers and sabers.

Corpses with exploding brains or only necks remaining fell by the roadside, and the hot, bloody smell rose with the rain.

"Alert, alert!"

"Your Excellency, there's trouble, blow the horn quickly!"

The halberdiers at the door noticed the chaos. Four halberdiers bent down, raised their three-meter-long halberds, and aimed at Jeanne, who was charging in the front.

"Get down, stupid peasant woman!"

Four halberds swung with afterimages, hooking towards Jeanne's neck, shoulders, and both thighs.

"Get out of the way! Lackeys!" Jeanne's pupils were about to be flooded by the light of magic. She waved her right hand, and lightning flashed.

The dazzling white light turned into purple-blue lightning, drilling into the gaps in the halberdiers' armor along with the rain.

In four orderly "Eh" screams, as if they had agreed beforehand, the twitching bodies fell straight to both sides.

Riding on Black Carrot's back, Jeanne jumped uninvited into the fragrant tent.

The warhorse jumped onto the table, smashing white porcelain bowls and plates, kicking over golden candlesticks, and kidney beans, bass, and steaming incense burners rolled all over the ground.

The incense burner ignited the luxurious silk, and flames flowed over the exquisite carved chairs.

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"Who? Who are you?"

"Get out, this is not a place for you to run wild!"

The nobles drew the long swords from their waists and roared angrily at the female knight who had broken into their banquet.

The pillars of the tent emitted the wails of fractured wood fibers, and the entire large tent was teetering.

Ignoring the knight guards who were swinging their swords at her, Jeanne spread the five fingers of her left and right hands. She had no expression, but slowly moved her hands to both sides of her body.

The armored soldiers and knights who had rushed over from nearby to try to relieve the siege had not yet approached when a flash of light as bright as day erupted inside the tent.

Immediately afterwards, a hurricane swept through the originally brightly lit tent, the curtains and canvas flapping loudly, and even the rain flew backwards.

The entire battlefield was silent for about two or three seconds before Count Mattai's head peeked out from behind the curtain.

First the top of his head, then his eyes, nose, mouth, and chin, followed by his blood-dripping neck, and the golden flag spear stuck in his neck.

"Nobles!" Jeanne's face was pale in the lightning, her voice sarcastic and commanding, "Kneel! In the name of the Holy Grandson, kneel!"

As soon as Jeanne finished speaking, the tent behind her collapsed with a bang.

On the mud-covered carpet were forty or so corpses lying in disorder, and the bewildered and constantly screaming courtesans and girls.

The knights and monks stood there blankly. It had been less than five minutes from the time the camp gate was broken.

They had already come as quickly as possible!

But now the entire camp was in chaos. The guards didn't have time to put on their armor before being cut down by the light cavalrymen one by one.

"Didn't you hear me?" Jeanne flicked the flag spear forward, and Count Mattai's head rolled to their feet, "I told you to kneel!"

Several armored soldiers exchanged glances, and then looked at the corpses all over the ground and the lightning leaping on Jeanne's body. They sighed, put on bitter faces, obediently threw away their weapons, and knelt on the muddy ground.

In about half an hour, the sounds of fighting were gradually drowned out by the sound of rain.

Among the groups of prisoners wailing with grief, Jeanne sat upright in the tent, rudely tearing into the roasted suckling pig left over by the nobles.

The remaining Saint Gun cavalrymen were also silent, eating around Jeanne.

Wine, roast meat, precious spices, the cavalrymen who had fought three battles in a row couldn't taste anything, they just stuffed everything roughly into their mouths.

Colebo's cheeks flushed red, obviously from excitement: "...There were more than three hundred guards, nearly a hundred knights, more than two hundred captured guards, and only six or seven knights escaped. The rest were either surrendered or killed."

"I don't want you to tell me this." Jeanne bit through a pig bone, chewed it and swallowed it, then looked up, "Have you scouted out the last two camps yet?"

"No, we didn't get any specific information, but they're not nearby."

"Then which is the closest and most powerful camp to us at the moment?"

"Count Musac, that untitled titled knight, his camp has more than six hundred people, including even more than two hundred knights."

Wiping the grease from the plate with bread, Jeanne swallowed it in two or three bites, stood up, her face pale but her eyes shining: "We'll set off in five minutes, destination, Musac camp."