Under the Oak Tree Chapter 333: Chapter 94

Chapter 333: Chapter 94

The mage who had cast a barrier to protect the queue of baggage wagons poked his head out from behind a compartment.
“I-Is it over?” he asked.
Too exhausted to answer, Maxi merely bobbed her head and wove her way through the throng of soldiers. As she drew nearer to the hill ahead, she saw that the slopes were guttered with flowing streams of dark red. Steam rose from the blood oozing from corpses. The soldiers trudged over the stained earth, clearing the monster carcasses with their spears.
Maxi watched the proceedings blankly before rubbing her throbbing eyes, a spell of lightheadedness coming over her. She felt dazed after being awake for nearly thirty hours, and her limbs were as heavy as lead.
Anette came up behind her. “Are you all right?” she asked, her face etched with concern.
Maxi straightened, nodding. “What about you? Are the others…?”
“Those in the rear are all safe, though they all look close to collapsing,” Anette replied, pointing to the mages slowly gathering around a freshly lit fire. “As for the offensive support unit, I’ve no idea.”
Maxi turned to look at the thousands of knights lining the ridge. At the center of the regiment fluttered the black banner of the Temple Knights. The Knights of Phil Aaron were on the right, and the Royal Knights of Wedon were with the Remdragon Knights on the left.
Camped outside the city gate, they were preparing for the second attack, with archers behind them readying to provide cover. Maxi wondered in dismay if they were going to start another battle so soon after the earlier skirmish.
Her tension eased when she realized that the knights were only being vigilant and had no intention of attacking the city for the time being.
“We should… make more room in the infirmary to accommodate the newly wounded,” Maxi said, prying her eyes away from the billowing Remdragon Knight banner. She headed toward the infirmary. Though she desperately wanted to confirm that the people she knew were well, her duties as a mage came first.
After assessing the mages nodding off around the fire, she instructed those who looked relatively fine to prepare to receive the wounded. She commanded the remaining half to rest in their tent, as they would be taking over in a few hours.
Inside the infirmary, she added more charcoal to the dying brazier and moved the patients to one side to make room for new arrivals. She then busily laid bedrolls over a layer of straw.
Before long, the gravely wounded were carried into the tent on stretchers — a total of forty-nine, ten of whom were in critical condition. The mages promptly peeled off the bloodied armor and washed their injuries with wine.
Maxi instructed her unit to stop the bleeding while she began stitching up lacerations. Most of the mages had almost depleted their mana by now. Without the luxury of magic to speed up healing, they were forced to tend to the men in order of urgency.
Maxi was flitting from one patient to the next when, all of a sudden, a soldier with a broken shin became delirious and began thrashing on his bedroll.
She threw her weight on him, pressing him down. “B-Bring me some hot water! And clean linen!”
The man’s violent movements opened up the gash on his leg even further. Blood spurted over her, some of it streaking her face. After calling for soldiers to help restrain the man, she cast healing magic on his gaping wound. Her mana was low now, but she knew the blood loss would kill him in a matter of minutes if she did not act.
His calm tone changed as he noted how pale she was, hastily adding, “Please do not worry, my lady. I’m certain we will hear from Sir Riftan soon.”
Maxi gave him a smile that felt stiff even to herself before entering the barracks. Inside the candlelit tent, around fifteen knights were already seated at the long table. They appeared to be studying a strategy map. Princess Agnes beckoned to her when she noticed Maxi hovering by the entrance, intimidated by the somber atmosphere.
“Come sit here, Maximilian.”
Maxi cautiously took the seat next to the princess. Kuahel Leon sat directly opposite, wrapped in his usual air of calmness. Richard Breston and the commander of the Arexian army were seated on her left, while Celric and Anton were on her right.
She was scanning their faces when Princess Agnes said gently, “I heard you toiled through the night. How are the wounded?”
“We lost two… but I believe the rest will make a quick recovery. W-We plan to heal them with magic once we’ve replenished our mana.”
“Good. That means more men for the infantry,” Breston chimed in. “I suggest you heal them all by tomorrow to make room for the next drove.”
Maxi directed a contemptuous glare at the man, but he only responded with a hearty laugh as though he found her hostility amusing.
“1 only say this for your sake,” Breston said, chortling. “A full infirmary will be more work for the mages.”
“Enough drivel,” Agnes snapped. “I’m growing tired of your provocations. Explain your strategy.”
“The many casualties among your royal knights must’ve put you in a foul mood, Your Highness.”
Agnes responded with a venomous glare.
Breston shrugged and picked up a quill. “Very well. It appears the princess is upset, so I’ll get this over with quickly.”
He dipped the quill in ink and drew a straight line on the map.
“This is the enemy’s reach from the city.” He propped his elbow on the table and drew another line. “This is the range of their catapults, and here, the range of their arrows. Hence we must position our catapults here, just out of reach.”
After blinking down at the map, Maxi eyed the man skeptically. “H-How can you be sure?”
“Did you not see our little experiment on the first day?” Breston replied flatly, sticking the quill back inside the ink bottle.
Maxi furrowed her brow in confusion before she stiffened as understanding dawned on her. She had been too preoccupied during the battle to notice anything strange, but she now recalled that the infantry that had charged the city on the first day were from the Baltonian army.
“Rest assured,” Breston said nonchalantly, “these are meticulous calculations made from the rear during the mock unit’s attack…”