The Steam Age: Gears and Bones

Chapter 38

Ludwig still led the gray-armored knights at the head of the procession, with Chertzov walking alongside him. Chertzov would occasionally raise his hand to point out the outline of a distant hill or a dried-up riverbed—he had been stationed in this area when he was young and remembered every suitable pass for an ambush and every stream where water could be drawn.

But they encountered nothing along the way.

There were no infected people, no routed soldiers, and no smoke from campfires at outposts.

In the wilderness, only the cold wind swept the snowflakes across the gravelly ground, making a soft rustling sound.

This open space should have been relaxing, but instead, everyone in the group became more and more silent as they walked.

In the swamp, they could at least judge the location of the infected by recognizing the swaying of the reeds and avoid danger with the cover of the thick fog; in this desolate wilderness where there was nothing, the visibility was so high that they could see clearly from several miles away, but they also lost the psychological sense of security that any cover would provide.

Once something appears on the horizon, they will be seen at the same time as they are discovered. There is nowhere to hide.

After walking for about half the morning, Chertzov suddenly stopped, squinted at a low ridgeline to the southwest, and after looking at it for a while, raised his hand to signal the group to stop.

"There should be a fortress over there. It's the old defense zone of the 11th Border Division. I was stationed there for two years when I was young." He pointed to a spot below the ridgeline where the outline of a gray stone wall could be vaguely seen. "If the Ross army hasn't completely collapsed, there should still be someone guarding it."

Ludwig glanced in the direction of his gesture, then turned to Perfit.

Perfico nodded, and the expedition changed course, turning southwest and heading towards the fortress.

Upon closer inspection, Perfit discovered that the fortress was far more dilapidated than it had appeared from a distance.

There are many traces of shelling on the stone bricks on the outer wall, a corner of the east tower has collapsed, and broken bricks are piled up at the base of the wall, half of which are buried by snow.

The trench was still there, but the barricades at the bottom of the trench had rotted and broken, leaving only a few sharpened wooden stakes leaning haphazardly in the frozen soil.

The fortress gates were tightly shut, and the doors were newly replaced—rough wooden planks hastily nailed together with iron bars, still bearing remnants of bark that hadn't been completely peeled off.

There were no flags on the wall, no smoke from cooking fires, and no shouts from sentries.

But Perfit saw movement behind the ramparts; the barrels of several flintlock muskets protruded from the ramparts, their muzzles swaying slightly in the cold air.

Cherzov walked to the front of the column, went alone to the trench, and began to shout upwards in his hoarse voice.

He gave his name, rank, and the number of the Second Guards Corps.

Several gun barrels behind the crenellations retracted. Then came a long silence.

Perfit stood beside the carriage, one hand on his dagger, watching the figures on the wall move quickly behind the crenellations, and could vaguely hear hushed arguments.

It wasn't like a discussion about friend or foe—it was more like a group of people who hadn't heard any good news in a long time suddenly encountering good news they couldn't believe.

The door finally opened. Not by being pushed open, but by someone removing the iron bars that sealed the door piece by piece from the inside.

As the door was pulled open, Perfit saw what lay behind it—the fortress courtyard was packed with soldiers.

They were wearing at least four or five different uniforms, some of which were so torn that their original color was no longer visible, and some had dirty bandages wrapped around their heads, the bloodstains on the bandages long since dried and turned black.

The weapons were also varied—there were flintlock muskets, woodcutting axes, simple spears made by attaching bayonets to wooden sticks, and a few people were just holding sharpened iron rods.

When they saw Chertsov, there was a brief silence, and then the whole courtyard began to slowly and heavily start running again, like an engine being refilled with steam.

Some people stood up stiffly, as if they had been sitting against the wall for days; others peeked out from behind the wall and wiped their eyes with their dirty sleeves; an old soldier in a worn-out sergeant's uniform squeezed out of the crowd, and the moment he saw Chertsov, he first stood at attention and saluted, then put down the flintlock pistol he was holding, which was already empty of bullets, and said a sentence in Russian.

Perfitt couldn't understand, but his voice trembled as he spoke.

Cherzov went over, helped the old sergeant up from the ground, patted him on the shoulder, then turned around and said a few words to Perficott.

His voice was still deep, but each word carried a weight he himself might not have been aware of.

"The remnants of the Ninth Border Division, plus the routed troops retreating from the direction of the capital, totaled about a regiment. They were trapped here for several weeks, unaware that the capital was gone or even if the front line was still there."

Perfit looked at the faces of the soldiers in the yard.

Several young soldiers looked only fifteen or sixteen years old, their uniform sleeves so long they covered their fingertips, their rifle butts dragging on the ground, their eyes vacant as if they hadn't had a full night's sleep in a long time. These were the routed soldiers.

A defeated army that has lost its command, supplies, and all sources of information.

They were trapped here not because they were ordered to stay, but because they had no idea where else to go.

"Make them come with us," Perfit said.

Cherzov turned around and said a few words to the old sergeant.

The sergeant's expression went through a very brief moment of bewilderment, which then turned into a mixture of relief and a belated pain.

He turned his head and shouted to the soldiers in the courtyard; his hoarse voice echoed between the stone walls.

The soldiers neither cheered nor cried; they simply began to silently pack their belongings, loading the remaining ammunition boxes onto the wagons, helping the wounded up from the base of the wall, and carrying out the last few barrels of salted meat and flour stored in the fortress from the cellar.

They were very efficient at doing these things; when it comes to survival, nothing knows how to move quickly better than a routed army.

There are three usable carriages in the fortress, plus the one the expedition team originally had, making a total of four.

They also found several still-living military horses, so thin that their ribs were clearly visible, but they could still pull carts. Their horseshoes made a steady rhythm on the frozen ground, the first time Perfitt had heard the regular hoofbeats of horses on this arduous journey.

Perfit was put in the best covered carriage, with two blankets laid out inside. The tarpaulin was intact and provided shelter from the wind on all sides, so he no longer had to squeeze in with other supplies.

The first thing she did after lying down in the carriage was not to rest, but to open the portable alchemy experiment kit, use her knees as a table on the bumpy carriage, and begin to sort out the knowledge she had gained from the second page of the Jade Record.

These things now lie quietly in her mind, but she needs to write them down, otherwise the march over the next few days might cause her to forget some of the details.

When the convoy set off again, it was no longer the small team of just a few rows of people.

Several wagons slowly made their way south along the gravel road, with fleeing soldiers carrying flintlock muskets following on either side. No one spoke, but their steps were lighter than before—not because they had rested enough, but because they finally knew where they were going.