Real hero

When Derek and his army charged, the remaining barbarian soldiers collapsed. The lone wolf, Enrique, was unable to control his troops and was even swept up in the retreat. The Lokians pursued relentlessly. Given how close they were to Ironwall City, a day's running back and forth, they finally saw the southern gate of Ironwall City.

By dusk, the first wave of fleeing soldiers had arrived. Before the barbarians stationed here could react, Derek, coming from behind, charged into the camp. After a day of battle, despite a brief rest, the soldiers were exhausted. However, the barbarians were not in a better state; after a day of confrontation and several probing attacks, their stamina was significantly depleted. Most crucially, they were completely unprepared.

The morning news was that a light Lokian force had been surrounded. Although the lone wolf Enrique had suffered heavy losses, he had firmly trapped the enemy. Everyone expected that the town would fall that day. The main Lokian reinforcements were still two or three days away, hardly a threat. No one anticipated an enemy assault.

Caught off guard, with no preparation, the slightest unpreparedness became the straw that broke the camel's back. Moreover, the difference between elite and ordinary soldiers became apparent. Derek's well-trained soldiers had superior willpower and discipline.

"Advance! Advance!" The lower-level officers shouted frantically, their flags indicating complete chaos. In the confusion and darkness of the battlefield, only the narrow spaces in front and to the sides were visible. Fear among the soldiers was magnified, and chaos continued. Consequently, the importance of grassroots officers increased dramatically. The intense training and strong leadership of these lower officers made their willpower as hard as steel. Even knowing they were deep within enemy lines and surrounded by foes, they did not waver. They only knew to follow orders and leave the rest to Lord Derek.

Advance! Kill the enemy! And then solve everything.

Like arrows piercing through the barbarians' weak resistance, if observed from above, one would see rows of Lokian soldiers advancing in simple formations, continuously charging. When encountering enemy groups, flag bearers and captains would flexibly take over command and scatter the resistance. Such tactical skill had been drilled into every officer deeply. One might not notice it immediately, but repeated accumulations caused the barbarians to be scattered repeatedly, unable to organize any effective resistance.

Like a growing snowball, the Lokian advance soon became unstoppable. Eventually, cavalry scattered in all directions, setting fire to the camp. The blaze further exacerbated the chaos. The barbarian fugitives, already battered by their recent escape, had lost the energy to continue fleeing. However, the southern camp's barbarian soldiers wished they had two more legs to run.

The chaos in the southern camp was noticed by the barbarian commander. But the collapse happened so quickly that before his messenger even left, the fleeing soldiers were already at the gates. Derek gathered some soldiers and slowly drove behind the fleeing troops. Though everyone was exhausted, they still maintained an aggressive posture. The saying "All's fair in war" applied here; abandoning pressure would only give the barbarian main camp an opportunity. A more aggressive stance made the enemy even more apprehensive.

Indeed, under the cover of darkness and given the well-organized appearance of the Lokians, the barbarians, unable to discern the approaching enemy, were hesitant to act. "Let the fleeing soldiers take a detour and go around the back of the camp," the barbarian commander ordered from his watchtower. In the dark, the scattered firelights could not reveal the approaching enemy, but their ability to fight at night and maintain formation indicated that they were elite troops. Seeing the chaotic and cursing fleeing soldiers below, he waved his hand decisively: "Shoot them, make them detour, or kill them all."

At such a time, caution was necessary. Allowing the fleeing soldiers in could potentially give the enemy a chance to strike. He preferred to shoot some fleeing soldiers to deter them rather than risk it. As his archers shot, regardless of the curses or cries of the barbarian soldiers, they had to comply with the detour order. Although cruel, it was the rational choice.

Derek glanced at Simon, who seemed eager and unaffected by fatigue. "Simon, go around the barbarian camp and show them some prestige. Dare you?"

"Certainly, I'll go now."

Simon immediately put on his visor, which made visibility even worse at night. "Get a team and follow me."

The knights rushed off, their display of strength seeming like an impending attack on the camp. Although it was clear it was not a real attack, Simon's show of force made it hard not to imagine otherwise. Simon tore down a triangular flag and waved it as he galloped. When he neared the camp, he turned.

His target was the fleeing soldiers, the best prey, having lost their morale and weapons. Within range of the barbarians, Simon and his cavalry dashed back and forth, trampling and slashing, arrogantly beyond measure. The barbarians were so stunned that they forgot to shoot arrows.

"Fire! Kill them!" The barbarian commander's roar jolted everyone back. Leaning forward and gripping the railing tightly, his face remained pale in the firelight. The display was too arrogant and insulting.

As the barbarians' arrows finally flew, only a few hit Simon, bouncing off his iron armor, while some hit the joints and wobbled. Seeing it was enough, Simon laughed heartily and turned his horse around.

"Barbarians, it's dark now. Wait until tomorrow for me to come and entertain you."

When Simon turned back, though exhausted, everyone was extremely exhilarated. How often does one experience such a triumphant moment in life?

Derek took a deep breath, knowing that after today, he would achieve what he desired. Times create heroes, and this time, he was that hero. When would he become famous? Today, at this very moment.

"Move out!"

With barbarian heads on their lances, they circled under Ironwall City, holding up the triangular flag. "The 10th Thousand-Man Unit of the Northern Province's 2nd Legion has arrived. There's no need to panic, we'll trample the barbarian camp tomorrow."

Derek shouted to his subordinates, causing a stir among the Ironwall City defenders who had been drawn by the commotion outside. The governor of the Northern Province, watching from the city walls, saw the towering flames. The southern barbarian camp had been destroyed.

Other barbarian camps were shut tight, and his men kept discussing Simon's impressive maneuver around the enemy camp. "Are there such knights in the Northern Province?"

He had heard that Northern knights were the best in the kingdom, thinking it was a reputation from the lackluster knights in the capital. Even when Count Jeffries had been beheaded by the barbarians, no Northern knight had stepped up to turn the tide. How wrong he was; such a fierce knight seemed more than worthy of the Northern knights' renown.

After all the anxiety and dissatisfaction with Count Perez's delay, everything dissipated. Indeed, the old earl was steady; when he acted, it was decisive and world-changing.

The governor craned his neck to look, seeing only the silhouette of a knight standing under the torchlight. "Knight at the city walls, is Count Pereira here?"

"The legion commander is still three days away," Derek answered honestly.

The governor turned pale. "Then who is commanding this? How many people have arrived?"

"I am the one commanding. We have brought 800 men from the 10th company of the 2nd legion and 1,000 men from the 8th company of the 1st legion."

"Only 1,800 men?" The governor's voice cracked. He thought the entire northern army had arrived, which had defeated the barbarians. Who knew it was just this small force? Are you trying to deceive me? Looking around, is this some kind of performance? Are the northern knights really this formidable?

Derek's voice clearly reached the city wall: "The barbarians are but a minor threat. They are weary after today's march of a hundred miles. I'll rest for a day and then come back to crush the barbarian camp."

Derek was putting on a show. From his assessment, the barbarians, having lost so many men, would certainly retreat. If he didn't seize this chance before the main force arrived, escaping later would be much harder. In fact, delaying by another two days would be even better. But with the main force approaching, the barbarians' alertness would increase, and such a favorable opportunity and significant victory might not be available. Although fewer barbarians might be killed, it would be most advantageous for him. Kingdom's interests? What does that have to do with a mere knight like me? Moreover, the result was good, and no one would care.

The governor was utterly shocked and speechless. Having spent his life in several central provinces, he had never experienced such large-scale warfare and was stunned by Derek. He thought to himself, what a powerful knight. If only he had more men, perhaps he would have overthrown the barbarians today.

This led him to lower his voice unconsciously: "May I ask your esteemed name?"

"Feng Derek."

The governor committed this name to memory, then politely said, "Knight Derek, it is inconvenient to enter the city today. Once the barbarians have retreated, I will host a feast to honor you."

Derek nodded, understanding that the governor needed to be cautious, or he might have lost his head. He then took his leave. Unbeknownst to him, his second brother, Sergei, had just recognized the voice and was astonished when he heard the name.

"Is it my younger brother?"

"He's this formidable?"

"Could it be a dream?"

Before he could confirm, he heard the governor asking Derek which family he was from. Though Derek had previously been an insignificant figure, the nobility did have experts in genealogy. "Derek is a direct descendant of the Ferreira family branch, currently without a fief. His full name should be Feng Ferreira Derek. The Ferreira family is an old military noble family in the north. They were granted a title a hundred years ago for their pioneering wars, and thirty years ago, they fought against the barbarians in the north and resisted the armies of the Holy Cross Kingdom in the east. By the way, I recall the Ferreira family also has members serving in the Iron Lion Legion."

Then Sergei, still dazed, was called before the governor. Fortunately, he looked presentable, answered a few questions, and received the governor's comment, "Indeed, a general's child." He then stumbled away. The Ferreira family, this military noble, instantly became famous. He only had one thought in his mind: "The third brother is going to rise."

This was not just Sergei's thought. Once things calmed down, everyone realized that Derek was going to rise this time. Defeating many with few, trampling the enemy camp, showing off in front of the army—every single achievement was worth recounting. Such figures are only seen in legendary stories. After all, the barbarian invasion was a rare event, a major incident that occurred once in a decade, with tens of thousands of troops on both sides and even a count being beheaded—events that shook the nation. On such a grand stage, any outstanding performance could gain attention and hold promise for the future. Moreover, Derek was so dazzling, he was simply impeccable.

Baron Palmer, seeing Derek, could no longer maintain his composure and chattered incessantly: "I have three daughters. Pick one, and I'll send her to you immediately. For the one you marry, I'll arrange for her divorce. All three can be sent, and I'll provide three estates as dowries."

Baron Palmer's three daughters seemed tempting to Derek, especially the married one. Well, let him ramble a bit; one must understand the baron's excitement. More importantly, one officer after another came forward to pledge their loyalty. Having witnessed Derek's abilities, even those who joined later admired him profoundly. In the army, although politics existed, it was inseparable from strength. A powerful superior was undoubtedly a guarantee of achievements and safety. Even Baron Palmer's subordinates were eager to get close to him, hoping to benefit in the future.

Although he was basking in glory, Derek remained cautious and set up camp ten miles away. At this time, if he were careless and got surrounded by the barbarians, it would be a complete waste of his efforts. In fact, his caution was not misplaced. The barbarian commander, while cautious, did not do nothing. Sending out a few scouts, many secrets were no longer secrets. Discovering that the attack on his southern camp was carried out by only a small force of Lokians, and even the defeat at the hands of the lone wolf Enrique was all due to this small force, he was first furious and then immediately considered if a counterattack was possible.

However, upon learning that Derek had camped far away and had even set up early warning measures, he realized there was no chance left. "Damn, all our plans have been ruined by this Lokian army. Send someone to find out who is commanding this army."

No matter how unacceptable it was, the facts were facts, and they had to figure out how the failure occurred. Some barbarian commanders could not swallow their anger and shouted, "Great Chief, let me take people to kill him. Give me a day, and I will bring back a Lokian's head."

"Fools, a bunch of muscle-headed idiots. Does the other side also have brains as stupid as yours?" The barbarian commander scolded, roaring angrily, "As long as he delays for two more days, the Lokian main force will arrive. At that time, it will be us who cannot escape."

Whether they were willing to accept it or not, they had to admit that having lost more than a third of their troops and with morale severely damaged, the army no longer had the confidence to fight the Lokians. At this point, it was best to withdraw while things were still salvageable.

"We withdraw. The Lokians' plan has already been interrupted by us. Let those fanatics continue to tear each other apart. Only then can we barbarians have a foothold."

The barbarian commander was very clear-headed. Tactical failure was painful, but strategic failure was deadly. The Lokians' plan, of course, was known to the barbarians, which was why they had launched this lightning attack. Regardless of the outcome, they had to leave.

The next day, as expected, the barbarians continued to show aggression in the morning, scaring off some restless souls within Iron Wall City. Then they abandoned a large amount of their supplies and retreated at lightning speed. Only Derek, with an elite force, followed at a distance, seemingly monitoring the enemy's exit.

There were attempts at retaliation by the barbarians, but Derek quickly turned away if the enemy was too numerous, and if they were too few, he charged them with ease. His tactic was to play the relentless pursuer. The barbarian commander, who had been keeping an eye on this troublesome enemy, realized that their defeat was not unjustified.

On the battlefield, there can be various accidents and strokes of luck, but in terms of real-time command, there is no room for chance. Not every commander can handle the situation with precision. The barbarians found Derek's persistent presence very bothersome, making it hard for them to carry out any plans. They could not afford to waste time or attempt anything during the retreat.

"This guy is a real nuisance. We need to find out more about him. I have a feeling… he might become a major problem for our southern advance," the barbarian commander sighed, wondering if the fate of the Lockians was not yet decided.

Meanwhile, Derek was also frowning. From his observations, the barbarians had plundered a large amount of wealth and people but had not engaged in indiscriminate killing. This suggested that the barbarians had a clear-headed decision-making body and were not just raiding indiscriminately. Derek even suspected that such a well-timed lightning attack was not a mere coincidence. If it were truly targeted at the Lockian Kingdom's northern campaign, there should be more than just this tactic.

"I hope… the nobles above can see through the barbarians' schemes, or we might face trouble."

…

In the Second Legion, Count Pereira was still worried about how to break the barbarians' schemes and wondered if Derek could keep them occupied, drawing part of the barbarian forces. "If we can keep some of the barbarian forces engaged, whether I can encircle them or if the main barbarian army comes to their rescue, the crisis of Iron Wall City will be resolved."

Count Pereira's plan had merit. Though he didn't know about the "surrounding Wei to save Zhao" And "The Achilles Heel Strategy" , his years of military experience led him to act in this manner. This was also why the First Legion was willing to cooperate with him. Prestige is accumulated bit by bit; although it may not be felt in everyday life, it can earn trust in critical moments.

Suddenly, a commotion was heard outside the tent, which was very displeasing to the usually strict count. He even stood up, interrupting his thoughts. Before he could ask what was happening, Cesar stumbled in with an expression of disbelief.

Could it be that Derek was in trouble? While it would be bad news, it shouldn't cause such a panic.

"Count!"

Cesar knew that his disheveled appearance would upset the count, but he was past caring. In fact, he thought it might be false news, but after confirming it from two different sources, he stumbled in, barely composed.

"Calm down in times of trouble. Did you forget what I told you?"

"Count," Cesar forced a twisted smile, not sure if it was of joy or shock, "A great victory! Derek the Knight decisively defeated the barbarians yesterday, capturing over ten thousand and forcing the barbarian army to retreat."

"What?"

Count Pereira thought he might have misheard due to his age, but Cesar repeated it. This time, he was convinced. Although it was certain that this was no blunder, the news was too shocking. The crisis of Iron Wall City, and even the northern provinces, had ended just like that? What had he been agonizing over every day?

"That young man, really something," the count paced back and forth, unable to calm down.

"Count, we need to move quickly," Cesar reminded.

Although Derek deserved the credit, Count Pereira couldn't avoid his own share of the glory. If they were too far away, it would be difficult to avoid future gossip. The plan now was to send cavalry quickly and at least reach the vicinity of Iron Wall City. But the count was thinking of something else.

"No hurry. This is not urgent. Cesar, I remember you have some acquaintance with Derek?"

"Yes, we get along well since we both come from knightly orders. Do you want me to be the envoy?"

"Envoy? You seem smart usually, but why are you so clueless at a crucial moment? Now, you set off immediately to the Ferreira family and say that I have a granddaughter of appropriate age. I'm interested in Derek and would like to arrange a marriage for him with her, and as a dowry… a knight's fief. How does that sound?"

Cesar initially didn't grasp it but soon realized. "Brilliant!"

This move was truly brilliant. With Derek about to rise to prominence, likely becoming a hereditary baron, if he was not yet married, it was wise to secure the marriage early. While everyone was eager to build a good relationship with Derek, the count chose a different approach, settling the marriage first.

"Quickly, what are you waiting for? Once this marriage is arranged, you'll be considered half a matchmaker for him, which is better than other people trying to curry favor!"

The old count kicked Cesar in the rear, annoyed at his lack of wit in critical moments. Cesar, without any displeasure, saw it as an opportunity and hurriedly left the camp.

Count Pereira, of course, was not idle. He immediately ordered the march. Leaving the main army behind, he and his knightly order raced to Iron Wall City, arriving within a day. Seeing the ruined southern camp and the high stacks of severed heads confirmed that the news was true. When he learned that Derek was monitoring the barbarian retreat, he had to admire Derek's audacity.

"A true hero!"

In front of Governor Jeffrey, the old count lavishly praised Derek, eager to exalt him to the heavens.

"Governor Jeffrey, we jointly recommend Derek the Knight for this victory, and especially Derek himself, I believe he deserves to be made a viscount and given two baronies at least."

Governor Jeffrey naturally thought Derek's achievements were significant, but the old count's enthusiasm was excessive. Promoting a junior so vigorously? The old fellow must have some ulterior motive.

He had checked beforehand and knew that Derek was from a knightly order under an earl, but such knights did not have direct affiliations with the big nobles. Every major noble did similar things. It was normal for the old count to be close to Derek, but his zealous support was unusual.

However, the old count was not wrong in saying that Derek deserved the highest honors for his significant contributions. This was undeniable.

Therefore, Governor Jeffrey agreed: "Recognition can wait until Sir Derek returns."

"No need to wait. The overall situation is settled. Let's give him a surprise to show we care for the heroes!" The old count was not in a hurry.

Arranging the marriage before the recognition was selfless, but arranging it after the recognition was about forming factions and pursuing personal gain. He was very clear about this.

Governor Jeffrey had no choice but to agree to write a brief letter of commendation first, with the details to follow later.