Warhammer Divine Throne

Chapter 1392: Chapter 592: Different Choices, Different Fates

”Solve the rebellion quickly.” Juan sighed too, having once thought that all of Brittania was under Laine’s rule, thinking: ”Try to kill less, these are all people.”

”Hmm!” Everyone responded in a chorus.

Three days later, the army suppressing the rebellion surrounded the last stronghold of the rebel peasants in Southern Leonais.

Inside the stronghold, the rebel peasants had already learned of the failure of the river defense plan. About twenty thousand rebel peasants crowded into the very narrow stronghold, with walls made of wood, stone, and dirt, uncertain if they could withstand the suppression army. These rebel peasants really had no confidence.

Anxious day and night, jumping at the slightest movement — this was the true reflection of the rebel peasants.

In the crowded and foul-smelling interior of the stronghold, several rebel leaders were discussing what to do. They initially planned to surrender but knowing the former Duke of Leonais, Aldred, had killed captives and surrendering enemies, and seeing only over two thousand soldiers in the suppressing army (distributed along the route), while they had over twenty thousand, immediately the notion of ”fighting to try one’s luck” took the forefront.

”Alan, can we really defeat His Grace the Duke’s army?” Several small leaders asked uncertainly, ”Those are the Old Guard!”

Among the rebel leaders, one named Alan, also a young man in his twenties, was said to have launched the rebellion when his father died from over-exhaustion while laboring for the Master Knight, crushed by a piece of wood.

”What’s the Old Guard!” Alan’s face was covered in scars, his hair a tangled mess, and he had lost an eye. He said somewhat uncertainly, ”That’s just a rumor, we haven’t seen them in person.”

”But...” Other rebel peasants trembled at the mere mention of the Old Guard.

”The enemy only has over two thousand people, we have over twenty thousand, what’s there to fear?!” Alan said impatiently, ”Fight a battle first, if we win, Duke Laine might accept our surrender! Then, at least we could become free people or soldiers, might even become knights, don’t you want that?”

”...” The rebel peasants fell silent.

The next day, the gates of the stronghold opened wide, led by the strongest first champion among the rebels, thousands of rebel peasants charged at the suppressing army with crude weapons and worn-out gear.

However, the suppressing army did not seem to react, just standing there in formation, silent.

The rebel peasants were just puzzled, not having time to think, when suddenly dazzling white light flashed and hundreds of perils of white smoke emitted from the center of the suppressing army, followed by thunderous gunfire!

”Boom~ Boom Boom Boom!”

In an instant, the peasants charging forward fell in droves, in the dense barrage of fire, flesh and blood flying, screams in their ears uninterrupted.

Then, the Peasant Infantry Corp opened up the formation, a unit dressed in splendid uniforms and half plate armor, bearskin hats, red and blue epaulets with tassels at their waist, leather boots, entered the battlefield. They either held long halberds, long-barreled fire cannon, or great swords, joining the battle line by line.

The strongest first champion among the rebels, undefeated across several strongholds, charged with dozens to face this unit, only for an Old Guard officer to effortlessly sidestep his attack, then strike with a long halberd, severing his head. Dozens of rebel peasants scattered, and their resistance appeared laughable before this unit.

Accompanied by loud singing, thunderous artillery fire, and the cries of knights on the flank, this unit moved into battle.

They had experienced a lot. Many had fought with Laine right after he reached the Knight Kingdom; they had battled Beastmen, opposed the Red Duke, dueled with Khorne’s Divine Chosen Champion Egil the Red-Eyed, personally fought Undead Grand Mage Heinrich Kemler in the battles at Black Stone Stronghold and La-Mesnil, and even fought valiantly against the Great Demon of Tzeentch, finally establishing countless merits in the Recovery of Musillon.

At this moment, facing these rebel peasants, just a glance from them was enough to make the enemy panic.

”The Old Guard is here!”

”It’s the Old Guard!”

”We’re doomed!”

”Lady have mercy on us!”

Several thousand peasants instantly collapsed, screaming as they fled.

Standing behind the walls, Alan knew the situation was dire. He shouted hoarsely, ”Retreat!”

Too late, Dwarf Heavy Cannon already bombarded the wall, shattering the defenders, turning men and horses upside down, followed by the knights striking from the flank, lastly, as the Old Guard marched into the stronghold, the rebel peasants were defeated.

In the chaos of battle, two familiar people met.

”Remon?! It’s you! You’ve become the Old Guard?!” A familiar voice made the Old Guard raise his head, his mouth agape in surprise.

”Alan?!”