Food is running out.

Most of them were blown up and burned.

Due to the suppression of the cannon fire of the giant warship, Vlamar could not send people to collect the scattered grain, so he could only flee with the nearest baggage cart.

Nervousness, anxiety, panic...... He never felt sleepy.

Late at night, the adjutant walked up to the duke with the collected data. He was wounded in the shelling, and the blood had already coagulated into a black scab on his forehead.

At present, there are still 520,000 people following the main force of the brigade, of which the lightly wounded are not counted for the time being, and more than 40,000 are seriously wounded.

Truth be told, Flamal wasn't surprised by the figure. When the giants began shelling, many of the soldiers fled. In fact, not too many people died from the shelling, with a rough estimate of at least 50,000 people fleeing the fire. If it weren't for the Duke's banner kept erected, I'm afraid that not so many people would have gathered in the west.

In terms of personal weaponry, it is barely complete. This refers to "at least one weapon per person", which is the most common practice for allied kingdom forces to count armaments. In the case of a musketeer, in addition to guns and ammunition, the set of equipment also included a spare barrel, a short knife thirty centimeters long, and breastplates and shoulder armor.

The Halberd has more weaponry. In addition to halberds and armor, they hold small round shields, armed with swords and daggers.

No one wants to take anything more with them when they are on the run. This led to the retreat of the army, which also lost a large number of weapons. The musketeers may have been armed with only a short knife, and the halberders were estimated to have only a round shield left. That's the current state of this losing side under Flamal at the moment.

There were forty-one artillery pieces. Among them, there are only two large-caliber heavy guns, but there are not many ammunition in reserve, a total of more than 30 rounds.

The total amount of gunpowder can sustain a high-intensity battle, which is equivalent to two bases under normal circumstances.

The worst part is the grain, which has only four days' supply left.

Flamal stared at the injured adjutant, the young man with an injury in his left eye, the bandage slanted around his head from the side of the skull, and only the tired right eye could be seen: "What is the basis for judging the specific supply?" How much is distributed per person per day? ”

The adjutant hesitated: "...... 500 grams of bread. ”

Flamar looked solemn: "Only bread? What about anything else? ”

The adjutant laughed miserably and shook his head: "Except for a small amount of salt, nothing else." We lost all the wine. The reason why there is still this food left is because of your previous order to carry baggage with the team, my lord. The logistics department prioritized the transportation of flour, with jerky and potatoes in the back, as well as plenty of butter and cheese...... They were in the back, left on the other side of the river. ”

Flamar turned and looked up at the dark night sky, where no one knew what was going on in his mind, only to hear him mutter, "How can you do without meat?" The soldiers had no strength if they didn't have enough to eat. The enemy we will face next is strong and cunning, and we can't stay here any longer, we have to find another way. ”

The adjutant endured the pain and itch from his injured right eye and asked, "My lord, what should I do next?" ”

"Kill the wounded horse, and give priority to the supply of horse meat to the scouts. The daily ration of bread per person cannot be so much, it has to be reduced a little, eh...... Let's tentatively set it at 300 grams! Flamar looked gloomy.

"Three hundred grams?" Hearing this number, the adjutant was stunned and lost his voice: "This bit of bread cannot be said to be full, and even the normal activities necessary every day cannot be maintained." The soldiers will be so hungry that they can't walk, and when the time comes, ......"

"Kill the wounded who can't walk." Despite having made up his mind, Flamal couldn't help but shudder slightly when he said this. He took a deep breath of dry and cold air, forced himself to drive away all the warmth, love, kindness, and pity in his mind, and said viciously: "Giants can eat it, why can't we eat it?" ”

The adjutant opened his mouth wide.

He couldn't believe it was coming out of Flamal's mouth. After nearly ten seconds of froze in shock and horror, the adjutant uttered a dry and hoarse voice: "The Holy Lord is above...... Your Excellency, Your ...... Are you kidding? ”

Flamar paused, feeling like he had completely abandoned a lot of good things, but it was the only option in his current situation. Turning to the side, he looked at the frightened adjutant and asked coldly, "Do you want to go home?" ”

The adjutant didn't know how to answer for a moment, so he could only nod mechanically.

"I want to, too." The Viking Duke's thinking and tone were unusually calm: "You have to make something to get something, and the same is true of war." The Northern Giants are very cunning, they have been showing weakness, from the Lock Dragon Pass to here, we have always thought that the Northern Giants are a savage and ignorant race. They don't know anything, they don't know how to make muskets and cannons, they don't know how to make muskets and cannons. ”

"No, they do." The adjutant subconsciously interjected.

"Yes, we all saw it today." Flamar had a hideous look on his face, but a deep and helpless sigh came out of his mouth: "We don't know anything, we don't know enough about giants. At this point, it's too late to blame anyone. The only chance in front of us is to occupy the giant city called "Learning to Grasp" in front of us as soon as possible. ”

"To get enough food?" The adjutant somewhat understood.

"That's the only way to hold on and wait for help." Flamal's explanation was simple and clear: "We lost most of our supplies, we didn't have enough fuel, and our troops would suffer from widespread frostbite when they were stationed in the field. In every sense of the word, we need that city. ”

Of course, the adjutant understood this, but he still found it difficult to accept what the Duke had said before: "My lord, can't you think of another way?" Those who were wounded...... They are all our compatriots, our ......"

"The most critical issue now is food!" Flamar waved his hand to block the words behind him, and his tone was unusually fierce: "Execute the order!" ”

……

Early in the morning, the Larson Scouts left their temporary Viking camp and headed west.

The Scout Squad has three members, with Larson as the captain.

Today's breakfast was hearty, of course compared to the dinner we didn't eat until late at night yesterday. Larson had only been given a cold, hard loaf of bread the previous night, which was not enough to eat, and he had not slept well all night, and had been tossing and turning with hunger.

An extra piece of cooked horse meat was added for breakfast, while three days' rations were allocated. This was a common practice in the Viking army, and the scout meals were much better in both quantity and quality than those of ordinary soldiers.

Larsson was equally amazed by yesterday's intense artillery fire. In order to avoid danger, he did not go due west, but entered the northern forest, intending to change direction and turn west in the afternoon.

The woods are sparse in winter, and they don't have the crowded feeling of leafy foliage in summer. Larsson rode on his horse, watching his surroundings with vigilant eyes, and the two members of the team followed closely behind, not daring to fall a single step.

Suddenly, the war horse under its crotch became very impatient, and it should have sensed some kind of danger in the depths of the woods directly ahead.

Larsson reacted quickly, turning his horse's head and whispering to his two companions, "Go!" ”

However, it was too late.

Several feathered arrows came from deep in the woods and pierced into the body of the warhorse under Larsson's crotch. The poor brute let out a cry of pain and rolled over, and Larsen fell to the ground, and he quickly took off the arquebus that he was carrying cross-body behind him, and reloaded the ammunition as fast as he could.

More arrows are coming out of the forest, and the sparse trees are hardly able to stop them. One of the team members didn't have time to dodge and was hit by an arrow in the shoulder. He screamed and broke the shaft of the arrow, and could no longer control the horse, and rolled over and fell.

Several tall figures rushed out of the forest, like a swift gust of wind, and rushed to the front in a moment.

Larsen was completely desperate———— there were at least five people rushing head-on alone, and there were more people rushing out of the woods on both sides of the woods, and there was an absolute advantage in numbers.

It's giants, and they're riding an animal that Larsen has never seen before. Externally resembling lizards, they move forward on two strong hind legs, with an upright upper body and two short, sharp front paws. This animal can run like a human and is extremely fast.

With a determination to die, Larsson gritted his teeth, aimed at the crotch mount of one of the giant knights who was rushing to the front, and pulled the trigger.

The opponent's speed was too fast, and Larsson was not sure to hit the target moving at high speed. He had no choice but to settle for the lizard-shaped creature with a larger bomb area.

Kinetic bullets flew out of the chamber and hit the target as Larson had expected. However, the opponent did not fall, and the bullet hit with a crisp "bell" at the same time.

Larsson's face was horrified.

The other party rushed closer, and he finally saw the lizard-like creature covered in thick metal armor. It was the scaly armor method, made of metal discs layered on top of each other. The cuirass of the "Lizard" is extremely thick, and I am afraid that the cuirassiers of the Viking Kingdom may not have such strong protection. Not to mention bullets, even halberders can hardly damage them when they attack at close range.

Riding on the back of the lizard was a young giant, and Larson couldn't tell the actual age of the other party. The arquebus was a hassle to operate, and although he had already pulled out the powder pouch plug and reloaded the ammunition as fast as he could, it was the other party who was faster. Larsson saw a black object fall head-on, and before he could dodge, he was hit in the door, blood gushed out of his nostrils, and he screamed and fell backwards, falling heavily to the ground.

The whole head is numb, and the brain that has been hit by the blow temporarily loses the ability to think. Larsson felt the man jump off his mount and come behind him, his hands grasping the collar.

It should be the young giant. He was half-kneeling, pressing his knees against his back, and Larsson could not stand up, and was forced to tilt his head to the side in order to breathe, just in time to see another companion fall from his horse after being shot by a feathered arrow, struggling and rolling in the snow.

The giant pressed on his back spat out a string of unpleasant and inexplicable tones, and Larson couldn't understand a word of what it was. He saw several giant horsemen jump off the terrible lizard, grab each of his two wounded companions, and tie them up with ropes, so the phrase must have meant "capture them alive."

The giant's strength was so great that Larson felt that he was about to be crushed alive, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't turn over.

"What's your name?" On the back comes the words in rounded English.

Larsson froze, as if he were stunned.

Savage giants know our language?

He didn't know what to say for a while, and the two thoughts of the scout principle and life collided in his mind, and the former obviously had the upper hand over the latter.

"I don't like dumbness, and I don't give a second chance to someone who doesn't refuse to obey."

With these words that Larson could understand, his hair was clutched, and the giant behind him stretched his arms forward, around his neck, against his chin, and pulled and pulled his head upwards towards the sky. Larson's eyes froze, almost suffocating, as he saw low clouds roll in the sky, rolling up a dark gray in the sky.

He wanted to say something, especially begging for mercy. The giant behind him did not let go in the slightest. Unable to move, Larsson immediately felt his hair loosen and a sharp blade slashed across his neck. The terrible metallic coldness was so clear, as if the sharp edge of the ice cube had cut a line through the skin, so smooth, so terrifying.

The giant squeezed his chest hard, as if trying to squeeze all the blood out of Larsson's body in this way. The Scout Captain had never felt weaker than he had now, his strength draining from his body like water, blood gushing out of his throat and chest, and he had no time to spit it out, he could only gulp down the bright red brackish liquid that was pouring up.

My neck...... The giant cut my neck?

The next sensation made Larsson even more distracted———— the power of the giant's hand increased, and the steel knife went back and forth in his throat.

He's sawing my neck!

He's going to cut off my head!

Larsson saw a large amount of blood spurting out of his throat like a faucet, splashing several meters in front of him. The bright red liquid was steaming, and the vision shifted, rising, and spinning.

Grabbing Larsen's head with his left hand and blood-stained knife in his right hand, the Bull let go of his twitching torso in his arms and walked over to the white scout who had been shot in the shoulder.

Although he is young, he is Tianhao's eldest son. According to the rules of the northern barbarians, the prisoner cow who has passed his tenth birthday has reached adulthood.

The number of velociraptors in the barn has exceeded 2,000. The Prisoner Ox is the commander of the dragoons appointed by Tianhao himself, and this powerful force can finally come to the front of the stage from behind the scenes, showing the world a fearsome side.

In order not to startle the snakes, the dragoons did not shoot when they surrounded the white scout squad, but instead used traditional cavalry crossbows.

The Prison Bull threw Larson's head in front of the white scout, a smile on his young, immature face, "What's your name?" ”

Without waiting for the other party to answer, he added: "You only have one chance to answer." ”