Repeated Torture

On the second day, both armies remained in a standoff, neither making a move.

The encirclement of Kuttenberg was complete, and communication between the rebels inside the city and the Wagenburg outside was entirely cut off.

Behind the Hussite rebels, on the road leading to Prague, a brief skirmish broke out.

Laszlo Hunyadi sheathed his saber, looking with a slight sense of regret at the more than one hundred Hussite rebels' corpses piled together.

The vanguard he had dispatched had run head-on into this supply convoy, and by the time he arrived at the battlefield, the battle was already over.

In the open plains, these rebel transporters had no power to resist and were slaughtered by the Hungarian cavalry, not a single one escaped; they were all killed.

"General, these provisions…"

"Bring them all back to the camp. The enemy doesn't have the guts to come and snatch them from us. Burn the bodies clean. The weather is hot now; don't let a plague break out."

"Yes!"

After intercepting the rebel supplies transported from Prague, Laszlo Hunyadi led his army swaggeringly back to their temporary camp set up behind enemy lines.

Here, he met the messenger sent by the Emperor.

"His Majesty requests that you dispatch troops at midnight tomorrow to feign an attack on the enemy camp from the rear, while retaining enough cavalry to pursue and kill the enemies retreating from that direction, inflicting as many casualties as possible, leaving no survivors."

Laszlo Hunyadi frowned slightly; this was not the same as the plan decided before setting out.

However, since it was the Emperor's decree, he would naturally obey.

That day, Laszlo Hunyadi used the captured rebel provisions to reward his troops, boosting morale and preparing for the decisive battle that would follow.

In the Hussite rebels' camp, Iri's expression was grim.

Although he had expected it, when the relief force reported that the transport unit had been completely annihilated and all provisions lost, his heart still sank.

He immediately sent men to Prague to inform the garrison in the city that they no longer needed to supply the army with provisions.

The rebel army's food reserves were sufficient for half a month; if absolutely necessary, they could kill the draft horses pulling the war wagons and share the meat, and there were wild vegetables around the camp that could be gathered. However, he believed this battle would not last until then; the outcome would be decided before that.

Iri concealed the news that the army's supply line had been cut. Informing the soldiers of such news at this time would only shake morale and offer no benefits. While the army's fighting spirit was high, it was the perfect time to fight a decisive battle with that tyrant's army.

As night fell, most of the rebels were already asleep, while the soldiers on guard kept their eyes wide open, watching the situation outside the Wagenburg camp.

The night was pitch black, with dark clouds obscuring the moon. The Imperial Army's camp in the distance only had a few campfires left; if one didn't look carefully, they might not even notice that a camp housing tens of thousands of troops was hidden there.

Two sentries leaned against the Wagenburg's railing, chatting idly.

"Do you think we can defeat the Emperor's army?"

"Even if we can't, we have to fight. They're here to take our lives! That tyrant is bringing those corrupt, greedy, and morally bankrupt Catholics back to this land to sow disaster. We must stop him."

"You're right. We Bohemians have the right to decide our own faith and destiny."

The conversation between the two Prague citizens suddenly stopped. One of them craned his neck to look down the hill; he thought he had seen some movement there just now.

"What's wrong?" the other sentry asked, puzzled.

"Look, what's that?" The sentry who had noticed the anomaly raised his hand and pointed. Both men's gazes followed his direction. It seemed there was indeed something moving at the foot of the hill, but the sky was too dark and the distance too great for them to see it clearly.

Down the hillside, Gunter led a squad of elite soldiers, escorting artillerymen and ten cannons to the pre-selected firing positions, followed by the Independent Army's relief force.

The artillerymen skillfully untied the tow ropes, set up the cannons, and adjusted their aim.

Cleaning the barrels, loading gunpowder and shells—the artillerymen completed these basic steps with practiced ease and immediately began adjusting the firing angle.

"Fire!"

As the artillery officer gave the order, ten cannons roared, and shells flew out, though their destination was unknown.

The first round of shelling caused no damage to the Hussite rebels' camp, but Gunter was unconcerned, urging the artillerymen to quickly reload and prepare for another volley.

Meanwhile, in the Hussite rebels' camp, chaos had already erupted.

"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"

The sudden sound of cannon fire greatly startled the night sentries, who frantically shouted through the camp, waking the sleeping soldiers in their tents.

Iri didn't have time to put on his armor, throwing on a robe and rushing out of his tent, where guards holding torches were already waiting outside.

Seeing the camp in disarray, with many people rushing out of their tents and looking around aimlessly, his already agitated mood grew heavier.

"What exactly is going on? Zelesny should be in charge of the night patrol today. Where is he?"

"I'm here, my lord!"

A general, holding a torch, rode his horse to Iri and reported, "There was cannon fire from down the hill just now, but no sign of the enemy, and the outposts in the forest direction are also quiet."

Iri's face turned ashen. He immediately understood the enemy's malicious intent; they deliberately didn't want them to have a peaceful night's sleep.

He immediately ordered, "Calm the troops at once. Tell the sentries to stop shouting. Those who disturb military morale will be executed without mercy! Tell the soldiers to return to their tents and rest. They are not to leave the camp without hearing the horn. You personally inspect all areas, strengthen the defenses of the Wagenburg and the forest direction, and issue an alarm immediately after confirming the enemy's situation, understand?"

"Yes, my lord."

General Zelesny hurried away after receiving the order. Iri then dispatched his personal guards to various parts of the camp to appease the troops, and he himself patrolled the camp once.

Just as he was inspecting, cannon fire rang out again from down the hill.

The sound was so piercing in the silent night, making people irritable. Fortunately, the army did not experience a major riot, but it was clear that getting a good night's sleep tonight was unlikely.

On the other side, after firing two rounds, Gunter was not greedy. He immediately retreated with the cannons and troops, linking up with the relief force.

Near the forest, the Saxon Army's camp, serving as the entire army's outpost, maintained strict vigilance. If the enemy were provoked and launched a sudden attack, they would tie down the enemies attacking from the hillside and the forest.

Meanwhile, the Imperial Army's main Wagenburg camp seemed as if nothing had happened. The soldiers, who had received orders long ago, slept soundly, completely unaffected by the shelling.

"Are we retreating now?"

Heldt, the Independent Army general in charge of the relief, looked at Gunter. The light from the torch shone on his bald head, looking quite comical.

Gunter smiled sinisterly and said, "No, no, no. We have to torment them until after midnight. In a little while, when they're all asleep, we'll go and give them a wake-up call."

Heldt couldn't help but give him a thumbs-up: "I think these heretics must want to kill us immediately right now."

"That's exactly the effect we want."

Gunter led his troops to rest for a moment, then immediately returned to their previous firing positions with the artillerymen, setting up the cannons and firing a few shots in an unknown direction.

The subsequent multiple shellings did not cause any major disturbance, but the Hussite rebels were destined to endure a tormented night.

The next morning, complaints filled the rebel camp. The generals commanding the various units, all with dark circles under their eyes, came to Iri's main camp for a meeting.

"These bastards are simply too much!"

"Everyone, please calm down. Take the time to rest well. At midnight tonight, we will attack on schedule. Be prepared." Iri's gaze swept over everyone.

"Yes!"

All the Hussite rebel generals harbored a suppressed resentment, just waiting to unleash it on the Imperial Army tonight.