Kelvin. Viscount Wellington looked at Trasil, the bud of the World Tree, which was gradually becoming clearer, and combined with the long howl he heard earlier that did not belong to any beast, he knew that General Strass must have succeeded in slaying the monster that dominated the forest. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

In this way, they can occupy the commanding heights of the Misty Forest, use the bow and arrows of the Archer Messenger, and suppress Wendland's heavy cavalry, whether attacking or retreating, occupy a favorable terrain.

However, the dissipation of the fog gave him new concerns.

Previously, their guerrilla tactics were mostly carried out with the help of this dense fog that could not be seen far away, but now that the fog has thinned, it will be more difficult for Astel to fight, and it is quite difficult to rely on such tactics to gradually wear down the enemy's strength.

However, before General Strass left the camp, he had ordered all his troops to retreat and no longer engage in guerrilla harassment, and even if the fog faded, Astor would not have a head-on confrontation with Wendland's army for the time being.

But Viscount Wellington understands that Wendland will not wait for Astel to be fully prepared before launching an attack, since the fog on this side has become thinner, then Wendland must also be able to detect this change, and tomorrow at the latest, the enemy will organize the first tentative attack, and their side of the dragon is leaderless, and they cannot act rashly.

"Lord Wellington, should we send someone to find Lord Earl?"

The words of the man next to him brought Viscount Wellington back to reality, and he saw the fire dancing on the wood first, and then he turned his head to see the speaker's leather boots.

It was a pair of fine buckskin-tanned boots, boots that only the nobles of the north could have, and when you looked up, it was a dusty Asterel military uniform, and under the fur cape, the most conspicuous thing was the pair of deerskin gloves with intricate patterns, which were obviously blessed with magic and hidden power.

The man was only in his early twenties, his black hair was combed into a big back, his burgundy eyes reflected the flickering firelight, his handsome face revealed a little vicissitudes, and two Aster-style sabers pinned to his waist, the scabbards reflected the glow of the flames, which made people look sideways.

"Lord Manstein, if what Mr. Ian Grey said is true, the Earl should be under Trasil, the Bud of the World Tree, and it should be too late to send someone to find it."

Viscount Wellington disagreed with him, but he was not too insistent.

"I'm just suggesting that after all, the Wendland guys won't just sit unmoved after the fog clears, in fact, I've already been informed of their movements by scouts - Wendland is massing."

If Shiloh had been there, he would have recognized the person who was speaking at the moment, who was none other than Claude, the most radical of the Northern Rangers, known as the "Black Lightning" in the future war. Lord Manstein.

An eighth-elf knighthood, Lord Manstein inherited the title at a young age, and soon after war began, the young nobleman followed Villahil with his army. General Strass marched south to fight against the invasion of Wendland.

The Battle of the Misty Forest was Lord Manstein's fame in the battle of the Misty Forest, and he relied on only a small group of light cavalry to inflict heavy losses on Windland's proud heavy cavalry troops, killing dozens of men before retreating. In the subsequent battles, Lord Manstein was also active on the battlefield as a vanguard and surprise army, so that in the later part of the war, after he was promoted to gold, Wendland did not hesitate to send three gold masters to surround and strangle him, which can be regarded as a legend.

"Without the cover of the dense fog, we are easy to become targets, it is better to retreat one after another, since the Earl has already killed the monster in the forest, then we must gather near the buds of the World Tree and then start a battle."

The man who spoke was a middle-aged man sitting opposite Viscount Wellington, no more than forty years old, with a little white strand on his brown hair, and a pair of silver-framed eyes, who looked more like a civil servant than a military attaché. Viscount Wimble.

As the most loyal vassal of the Strass family, the Wimble family has served Strass for generations, and at the same time is in charge of the internal affairs and finances of the north, which can be regarded as the existence of Vera Hill's left and right hands.

"Rashly issuing military orders will be dealt with by military law, and if our unauthorized actions disrupt the Earl's plans, then the consequences are not something we can bear."

Viscount Wellington shook his head, and he kept his hands warm near the flames, the wind was still cold despite being in the tent.

"Besides, if Wendland catches this flaw and attacks on the way to retreat, the loss will be even greater."

"Why don't you let me take a few teams of cavalry to harass them, and the large army will take the opportunity to evacuate?"

Lord Manstein rubbed his hands, the rustle between the deerskin gloves and the subtle sound of flames devouring dead branches echoed through the tent.

"Lord Manstein, although we all know that you are good at mobile combat, but the other party is not a bandit or bandit, but the regular army of Wendland, not to mention that irascible bull, just a few silver under his command can surround you on a horse."

Shaking his head, Viscount Wimble said, he had always been as calm and steady as a butler, and naturally disagreed with Manstein's radical plan.

"But we must at least prepare to retreat first, let the soldiers pack their bags, and leave the current position by this evening anyway, and have the owl inform the other two camps and tell Erich and Hartmann."

"That's all there is to it."

Viscount Wellington knew that this was the safest plan, according to the speed of the Golden Order of Verahill, he could arrive by evening at the latest, even this ranger general should follow Viscount Wimble's advice, so it was not too early to start cleaning up now.

"I'll take two teams of people, Lord Wellington, give me six bow envoys, and I'll pay you back tomorrow."

Lord Manstein stood up and said with a quip, his palm rubbing against the hilt of his sword, looking a little restless.

"Don't worry, Wendland is estimated to be in a state of chaos like us for a while, even if that bull has a short temper, it is impossible to charge with cavalry like this."

Viscount Wimble stopped Lord Manstein who wanted to rush out of the tent, he was also young, knowing that the national disaster was at hand, every hot-blooded young man wanted to serve the country, Lord Manstein was on the battlefield for the first time, it was inevitable that he would not know enough about the cruelty of war, looking at the young viscount in front of him, he couldn't help but think of his son who stayed in the north to control government affairs, and his heart was a sigh.

"Then at least let me write to Lord Erich and Master Hartmann, and it is urgent."

Continuing as he continued, Lord Manstein lifted the curtain of his tent and was about to walk out when he suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?"

Viscount Wellington sensed that something was wrong, and he hurriedly stood up, and over Lord Manstein's shoulder, he saw something unbelievable.

Their commander, Vera Hill. General Strass is standing outside at the moment.