Many soldiers fled—after all, most were slave soldiers, and retreat was their instinct. As for the regular troops, seeing everyone around them fleeing for their lives, they weren't about to risk their own necks to cover the retreat either.
The moment morale collapses, numbers mean nothing.
Ryan looked at the retreating army in the distance, then at the group of soldiers kneeling around him—those who hadn't had the chance or time to escape and had no choice but to surrender and pray they wouldn't be killed.
Some of them belonged to Viscount Miles's forces, while others to the opposing side.
"Young Master Ryan."
At some point, Harrington had dragged Baron Enzo—now bound—over to Ryan's side. Ryan glanced at the nobleman but showed no expression.
"Go back and tell Viscount Dragon: half of Icepeak Forest belongs to us now."
"If he agrees, your nobles can ransom their captured soldiers. If not, I'll execute the prisoners—and we'll resume the war.
On the other side of the battlefield—
Brand hurled the corpse of a silver-ranked knight in front of a terrified army. Nearby soldiers gathered, weapons drawn and aimed at the fleeing troops from Viscount Miles's side—many of whom hadn't even had time to retrieve their weapons.
"My lord."
Two silver knights knelt before Viscount Miles in shame. The three of them had fought together, and yet they had still failed to stop that young man. Now, even seeing the corpse nearby sent a chill down their spines.
Had the battle gone on a bit longer, they might've been the ones lying dead.
"My lord, my liege sent me to tell you: if this war continues, you will lose any hope of claiming Lingdu City."
Viscount Miles glared at Brand. He couldn't believe the battle had reversed so quickly.
They had superior numbers. They had the advantage. So why had they been routed so easily?
"You… allied with Dragon?"
Brand didn't respond. But in Viscount Miles's eyes, the facts were clear: three barons had defected to Viscount Dragon, which led to his defeat.
—
Meanwhile, Viscount Dragon's expression was equally sour. He, too, was worried Ryan's army might turn on him next—and mix in with the remnants of Miles's forces.
"Father, we can't gamble on this."
"If we lose the bet, we get nothing. But if we win, then they'll be forced to stand with us against Viscount Miles."
Baron Enzo spoke at last, prompting Viscount Dragon to make a firm decision.
"Then we agree to their terms!"
Count Weiss's involvement had left Viscount Dragon with no choice but to compromise—giving up half of Icepeak Forest's spoils.
On the other side, Viscount Miles gritted his teeth in rage and growled:
"Go back and tell your liege—the Miles family will not forget this betrayal. Also, return Sir Artel. He's Count Weiss's younger brother. You have no right to hold him captive."
Brand raised his hand, and moments later, soldiers brought over the bound Artel Weiss. This nobleman, with only the strength of a regular knight, had no courage to resist after being overwhelmed by a sudden army.
Yes, he had brought two thousand troops—but aside from the few dozen "barbarians," the rest were merely slave soldiers. They had no morale, no resolve to fight a losing battle.
Such is the game among nobles. Having lost, Viscount Miles could do nothing but withdraw—taking his army back to his territory to lick his wounds.
Soon after, Ryan received the responses from both viscounts. He didn't feel particularly thrilled, because as long as neither noble's forces were completely wiped out, they could always raise new armies back home.
After the orcs' southern incursion, the nobles of Northwind Province all had an abundance of slaves.
"A pity. If we had destroyed their entire armies here, those nobles wouldn't be able to field another large force for decades."
Ryan sighed. Surveying the area after cleanup, he realized the war hadn't caused as many deaths as he expected.
Then again, it made sense. The military discipline of both armies wasn't very high. If casualties exceeded 10% and they still didn't retreat, that was unusual. If it went over 20% and the slave soldiers still didn't break ranks, Ryan would credit that to the nobles' exceptional command. If losses exceeded 30%…
Even elite regular troops would retreat at that point. If 30% of his own two hundred knight-retainers died, Ryan would definitely be heartbroken enough to call off the fight.
War is never fought to the last man in a single push. Wars that end that way are epics—where not a single soldier retreats, and history remembers them. Such tales stir the blood of military commanders for generations.
But more often, it's like this: a clear defeat means the war ends.
That's also why Ryan kept sending scouts—he wanted to monitor both sides' losses. If only 10% were lost, he wouldn't intervene. But if casualties reached around 20%, then his sudden arrival could tip the scale and win the battle.
Viscount Miles didn't understand how his army lost. That's because he only saw numbers—he treated soldiers like statistics.
Ryan didn't. He knew very well that every soldier was a living person. They could feel fear, panic, confusion, despair. They had emotions.
Each one was a human being—not a machine you could throw into battle expecting them to fight to the death.
So soldiers would flee. One ran, then a second, a third…
And when mass desertion happened, even a million-strong army was useless.
In a direct confrontation, Ryan's forces definitely couldn't match the joint armies of the nobles. But his timing—was perfect.
He had arrived just as both armies' strained morale was on the verge of collapse—while his own troops were still fresh.
So as long as he dealt with Count Weiss's recently arrived forces, this war could not be lost.
Of course, if Viscount Miles regrouped and re-established a camp, then Ryan would once again be at a disadvantage—and might even have to give up his claim to Icepeak Forest. That's why he began courting Viscount Dragon: using the balance of power between the two viscounts, he could pressure one with the other.
Getting Dragon on his side would guarantee Miles's retreat, and Miles's continued presence would push Dragon to accept Ryan's proposal.
The victory came down to human nature—and the rules of the noble's game.
As the victor, even as a baron, Ryan could now speak loudly and drive away other nobles.
By the time they realized what had happened, it was already too late. Even if they were unwilling to accept the outcome, they wouldn't dare damage their own noble reputation by breaking their word—at least not in the short term.
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