The fiefdom increases by 1 soldier in 1 second, and the empress kneels down and begs not to rebel

"Sir, your hat."

Missby put the hat that was blown away on Dingle's head and continued:

"Twelve years ago, before the Great Emperor ascended the throne, we in Golt were in trouble both internally and externally. The Kosovo Empire eroded our territory until only thirty-six cities remained. We even nearly took the Holy City of Salvia away from them."

"It was a time of despair, but the speech the Emperor gave under the statue of Saint Marlene on New Year's Eve of that year is still fresh in my memory today."

"He said, 'The blood flowing in our Gothic bodies will never yield. We should not be afraid of war, because war is the time to test a nation. Now is the most difficult time. If we choose to yield, we will always become slaves of others. If you choose to fight, then don't be afraid of death. Death is only the end of us personally, but not the end of our nation and country. Does death mean the disappearance of a person? It can only take away your life, but your will will always exist and continue!'"

At this point, Misbi's blood boiled, but he restrained his emotions in time and said calmly:

"Twelve years have passed. The former Kosovo Empire has disappeared. Only our Empire Delta Federation remains on the Salisno continent."

"We have lost this battle, but has it reached the point of despair? I think it's far from it."

"What do you say, sir?"

Misby reached out again and straightened the hat on Dingle's head.

Dingle lowered his head and said after a few seconds of silence:

"Ah."

Then he turned his head and looked behind him, a layer of mist gradually welled up in his eyes, but then he lowered the brim of his hat, covering his eyes in shadow, and Dingle turned his head to look at the winding road ahead.

"Let's go, Heinrich," he said in a trembling voice.

-

In a slightly low-lying depression, Harbo desperately hid under the corpse of a horse that had been killed by a shell. He curled up in the horse's belly, and the horse's internal organs that were pierced by the explosion were all over the ground. The gushing blood almost soaked Harbo's whole body. The intensive gunshots around his ears made Harbo tremble uncontrollably, but he did not dare to look up, for fear that a bullet would be shot at his head.

More than an hour ago, he finally realized that it was impossible to break through the enemy's blockade. On the way back, the infantry suffered heavy casualties. They couldn't even fight back. The shells falling from the sky took their lives. The cavalry on the flanks suffered from the enemy's cavalry's point-blank fire. In a very short time, all the cavalry were shot dead.

And as planned, Dingle did not bring troops to support from outside the circle, which made Harbaugh fall into great despair. He did not understand why Dingle could turn a blind eye at such a critical juncture. There were still more than 20,000 troops, why couldn't he try to launch an attack from the outside of the enemy so that he could break out with his troops?

He just watched so many people trapped in the siege without doing anything. Could he really have the heart to make a choice after seeing that defeat was inevitable, and exchange the destruction of his own troops for their survival?

Harbaugh didn't want to believe it. Although he was in despair, deep down in his heart, he still hoped that at some point Dingle would appear with his army to rescue him.

However, it was already afternoon. Ten minutes ago, when he hid under the belly of his horse, he took a last look at his own troops and saw only a few thousand people running around randomly, while the enemy had countless cavalry, pressing over from all directions like a looming black cloud.

So he gave up hope completely and chose to hide in the belly of the warhorse, intending to pretend to be a dead body, and perhaps he could save his life.

Although as a soldier, this method is indeed too humiliating, but at this point, who cares so much.

At this time, Harbo heard the sound of horse hooves coming from far away, which startled him, because all his cavalry had been killed long ago, so it was obvious that the sound of horse hooves came from the enemy.

He quickly grabbed a pool of dirty internal organs and smeared them on his face and body, then lay on the ground sideways.

With his eyes closed, Harbo could no longer see anything. The strong smell of blood in his nose made him feel nauseous. He suppressed the urge to vomit and tried to stay as still as possible, like a real corpse.

The active closure of his vision made Harbaugh's hearing more acute. The artillery fire had stopped more than half an hour ago. Because his side no longer had any gathered troops, the enemy switched to skirmish shooting to attack.

This type of attack was not new to Harbaugh's career, but it was ineffective because the accuracy of the shots was extremely low and it was impossible to cause any effective casualties. Therefore, it had long been abandoned. Only a volley of fire in a linear formation could effectively kill the enemy.

But the funny thing is that in today's battle, the enemy used just this method of attack to kill a large number of their own soldiers. Harbaugh could only think that their shooting skills were more accurate, and almost everyone had reached the level of a sharpshooter. Of course, this was also inseparable from the fact that their weapons might be better.

And now, there was another burst of sporadic gunfire, accompanied by dozens of screams, and the sound of horse hooves gradually approached, and Harbaugh became more and more nervous.

"boom!"

"Boom!"

Several gunshots rang out suddenly, almost right next to his ears, almost startling Harbo so much that he almost jumped up. Immediately afterwards, an angry voice suddenly shouted:

"That guy is playing dead!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Harbaugh rolled over quickly, and gunshots rang out at the same time.

"what!"

With a scream, a Gothic infantryman who had just climbed up from the ground was shot in the back of the head before he could run a step. Red and white objects splattered out, and he fell forward and lay dead on the ground.

Harbo's body froze, and he realized that the "that guy" the enemy soldier was talking about was not him, but another person who was pretending to be dead.

"Here's another one."

A voice like that of an evil spirit sounded, and while rolling, Harbaugh caught a glimpse of a cavalryman pointing a gun at him, and the black barrel seemed like it would shoot a bullet in the next second.

This was indeed the case, with a "bang".

The bullet hit the ground near his arm, and Harbaugh shouted in horror:

"Surrender! I surrender!!!"

"Don't kill me! I surrender!"

He lay on the ground with his hands raised, his bloody face facing the dozens of cavalrymen facing him, and he howled loudly.

The cavalrymen still pointed their guns at him, and each of their faces was extremely grim, looking like they didn't seem like living people at all.

Harbaugh shouted repeatedly: "I surrender to you, I am a lieutenant general! You can use me as a bargaining chip!"

"boom!"

Almost at the same time, a gunshot was heard and the bullet hit Harbaugh's forehead accurately.

"It's not yet time to use bargaining chips in this war."

The cavalrymen stepped past Harbo's body with grim expressions and began to shoot one by one, cleaning up the battlefield.