"No way! Holy Mother above! Did Lord Dungar truly win?" Tukharovsky, who was leading his troops to reinforce Dungar's unit, was astonished upon hearing this from the messenger.
When Dungar informed him that he intended to launch an attack on the enemy at dawn that day, Tukharovsky couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety. While Dungar's defeat and fall from grace would have been gratifying, dragging the entire army down would have been a net loss. Therefore, after confirming that Dungar and his 250 soldiers had left their position, Tukharovsky soon left Posadas's unit to guard the rear and personally led 750 soldiers to follow, ready to support any potential retreat.
However, he was surprised to find that he had completely overreacted. Seeing Dungar's unit counting their spoils of war, having reaped a rich harvest, he couldn't help but mock himself after his initial shock: "It seems I must re-evaluate this Catholic with new eyes."
Despite this, after briefly apologizing in his heart for his prejudice, Tukharovsky still had to fulfill his duties as a commander. Therefore, half an hour later, he sent a messenger to congratulate Dungar and instruct him to submit a battle report as soon as possible.
At the same time, Dungar was counting prisoners, assessing losses, and comforting the wounded. Although the attack was a resounding success, his side's losses were also not insignificant. According to current statistics, this assault cost him approximately 50 casualties.
As he continued to supervise and check the casualty figures, a loud groan of "Ouch, hiss…" from the pile of wounded immediately drew his attention.
The ones groaning from their injuries were two of the peasant soldiers who had mocked him last night. The sturdier one had been shot in both arm joints by the enemy, while the other, more nimble one, had been cut in the waist by an enemy blade. Although not as critical as those with fatal wounds, they would likely not fare well without timely treatment.
Hearing the groans, Dungar quickly went to comfort them. Under the incredulous gaze of the peasant soldiers, he calmly inspected the wounds of these two and other soldiers, then made a conclusion while making the sign of the cross, "Although not fatal, the consequences will be extremely severe if left untreated. I will call a physician as soon as possible. My apologies, gentlemen, I am still in my armor and must report the results of the battle to His Majesty quickly, so I can only do so much. By the way, would you mind telling me your names?"
Amidst the soldiers' astonishment, the two peasant soldiers spoke first, introducing themselves to Dungar, "Petros, sir." The sturdier one bowed his head and responded, then gently nudged the nimble one, "He's Nicholas."
Looking at the two peasant soldiers awkwardly smiling in front of him, unsure what to do, Dungar asked curiously, "Do you not have surnames?"
"No." All the soldiers present shook their heads. The more astute Nicholas explained, "Surnames are for lords, liege lords, and majesties. Although we are now soldiers of the Grand Company, we were originally just farmers or fishermen."
"It's not all farmers, fishermen, or hunters. For example, my family originally ran a small stall," someone among the soldiers interjected.
"I see." It's quite similar to his hometown, Dungar thought.
His act of letting bygones be bygones and the prestige brought by this victory greatly changed the opinion of most of the originally stubborn peasant soldiers towards him. Now, most of the peasant soldiers under his command not only admired his tactical ability but also respected his character and integrity. Although this change was not yet obvious, Dungar could already feel that the peasant soldiers' gazes towards him had become much more comfortable.
Just as he was about to continue comforting other wounded, the messenger sent by Tukharovsky arrived, conveying congratulations and an order to receive the battle report as soon as possible. Seeing this, Dungar could only make a brief explanation to apologize before setting off to compile the battle report.
After Dungar left, Petros muttered, "Our officer is completely different from those scoundrel Latin heretics in old stories."
"Yes," Nicholas nodded, then, like a priest praying, his hazel eyes looked directly at the sky, making the sign of the cross and praying for their officer, "May the Holy Father's glory bless this man."
At this moment, Dungar, who was compiling the report in his tent, suddenly sneezed, "Achoo! Can I catch a cold in summer? Is it because today's battle was at dawn?" He wondered, "Or are those peasant soldiers talking bad about me again? It shouldn't be, at least their gazes towards me just now were mostly completely different from before."
"But I really didn't expect that, even though these peasant soldiers had indeed been perfunctory with me before, they still faithfully carried out my military orders." Thinking of this, he smiled wryly, "Much better than those arrogant knights from England or France. No, why am I thinking so much? I should hurry and compile the battle report."
The battle report was compiled quite quickly, and he delivered it to Tukharovsky by that afternoon. After Tukharovsky received it, he and his subordinates checked and verified it, confirmed its accuracy, and organized it. Then, at dusk, he sent a messenger to quickly submit it to Manuel, who was still confronting the enemy in the west.
The battle report reached Manuel's hands that night. At this time, Manuel was occupying the areas left by the enemy's unexplained strategic retreat.
"In short, Your Majesty, that is the situation. Lord Dungar's surprise attack, at the cost of over 50 peasant soldiers killed or wounded, captured over 150 enemy soldiers and beheaded nearly 100." After the messenger briefly explained the battle situation, he finally understood that this enemy force had withdrawn due to their defeat in the north, fearing being caught in a pincer movement and having their entire army annihilated.
"No wonder they left so hastily, not even counterattacking when pursued by our army for a short distance." After understanding the reason, Manuel first smiled admiringly at Dungar, then frowned slightly and shook his head, "Dungar de Laporte's attack was indeed good, but he must be told not to be so reckless in the future. Although our Grand Company soldiers are called 'peasant soldiers,' the quality of carefully trained, mature peasant soldiers cannot be compared to hastily recruited conscripts or peasant rebels armed with pitchforks. That's about it."
"Yes, Your Majesty." The messenger, having received Caesar's command, was about to leave to carry out the order but was stopped by Manuel, who had thought of something else.
"The enemy's morale is probably not too high now. Tell Tukharovsky to prepare to rendezvous slightly to the south. Next, we will take Akçaabat in one fell swoop and drive the remaining Komnenos forces out of southeastern Trabzon."
"Yes, Your Majesty, loyalty!"