As night fell, the Vesi lit bonfires in their tents, and many soldiers gathered around the fires listlessly.
Many of them were survivors of the fierce battle during the day; they had entered the battlefield with great determination and courage, only to be driven away in a few tens of minutes, which left them utterly disheartened.
Some were still chatting with their comrades about the harvest, worrying whether the women and children at home had properly looked after the fields or caught enough prey. They had no strong feelings about the war; having been so badly beaten on the first day, how could they possibly win? They just planned to muddle through the coming days.
In this pessimistic atmosphere, it seemed even the banners adorned with various fierce beasts and monsters were affected, drooping listlessly on their poles.
And the chieftains' quarrels made the feeling of despair even worse.
"What exactly is going on? How could the Rus' be so strong?"
"Ignoin, is this a trap you set, just to get us into trouble!"
"Why start suspecting others? Is now the time for internal strife? Think carefully about what to do!"
"Shut up, you always speak for Ignoin! You have no say here!"
The chieftains yelled at each other, not forgetting to gesticulate wildly to enhance their intimidation, as if that would increase their persuasiveness.
Some even brought up old scores between the tribes, making the argument even more heated.
Ignoin was naturally also among those quarreling. Someone actually accused him of orchestrating all of this, deliberately harming them. Damn it, that guy must be crazy!
"So what if we just disband? What's there to argue about? I'm tired of arguing too, you bastards!"
The Vesi chieftain, who had been high-spirited during the day, now spoke with immense exasperation. He was so angered by arguing with these people that he simply abandoned them and went out to clear his head.
The others ignored him, continuing their arguments. Bastards, they were all chieftains; no one's status was higher than anyone else's. Who were they trying to scare here?
Leaving the noisy gathering, Ignoin went to the edge of the camp, looking at the quiet and mysterious dense forest in the darkness, hoping it would calm his chaotic mind. But for some reason, this scene, which he had seen countless times before, now gave him a sense of murderous intent.
Suddenly, the chieftain saw small sparks appear in the darkness, and then these sparks, like fiery serpents in the sky, rained down on the Vesi camp.
"Enemy attack!"
— — — — — — — —
The karma fire on the battlefield dispelled the darkness, illuminating the surroundings as brightly as day, even in the dead of night.
The Vesi's shanties, filled with all sorts of rubbish, were the source of the flames. Rus' soldiers occasionally threw stripped corpses into the fire, adding more fuel to the karma fire.
The captives sat on the ground, bound together and dejected. Next to them was a small mountain of weapons and armor.
There was nothing much to say about the battle to ambush the Vesi. All the troops Rostislav brought were elites. The Rus' personal guards first unleashed a volley of rockets, and then the iron-armored Rus' elites, like wolves and tigers, charged into the enemy camp. The battle, at that moment, could be said to have already ended.
The enemy had no alertness to being attacked. This should have been their forte, as they routinely engaged in countless raids and counter-raids, but the defeat during the day had left everyone dispirited, and vigilance inevitably slackened.
However, even if they hadn't slackened, it wouldn't have made a difference. Could their flammable camp, with no defensive fortifications, possibly stop the powerful Rus' elites?
Rostislav stood on a high slope, sword in hand, listening to his subordinates report the gains from this battle.
They killed a hundred people and captured several hundred slaves. The remaining Vesi fled into the darkness. Rostislav had slain five of their chieftains, but Ignoin, the one he most wanted to kill, escaped. This man, after occupying Beloye Lake City, had always been the biggest threat to Rus' rule.
However, the Prince was not discouraged by the Vesi chieftain's escape. In Rostislav's view, this man was merely a dry bone in a tomb, and he could kill him at any time.
After all, if it weren't for the various petty internal motives of those nobles, this fellow should have been annihilated long ago.
Since the battle only lasted about ten minutes, by the time Yang hurriedly put on his armor and rushed out of the camp to join the fight, everything was already over. Then he saw Rostislav standing with his sword drawn.
"Greetings, Prince. I have not failed my mission; I have completed my task."
The standard-bearer dismounted and bowed to the monarch, and Rostislav walked up to Yang and helped him up. His younger brother had indeed achieved great merit this time.
"Yes, Prince, if it is convenient, please come in and see."
The Prince knew that what Yang was referring to was the silver mine he had longed for, so he naturally followed him without hesitation.
The two rode into the camp, and everyone inside naturally bowed to the Prince. The Prince ignored them; his mind was now focused on only one thing—the silver mine.
On the hillside where the silver mine was discovered, Rostislav saw the striking silver streak on the rock face. Although it was clear at a glance that there were many impurities, this was a silver mine! The greatest driving force for this land all along!
"Yang, take this. This is just the beginning. I will give you something better when we return to Moscow."
The excited Rostislav said, taking a pure gold armlet, intricately carved with various designs, from under his saddle and handing it to the standard-bearer as a token of his immediate gratitude.
"Thank you very much, Prince."
Yang's joy showed on his face. The value of this armlet aside, its significance alone was immense. For a warrior loyal to the Prince, receiving a gift from the Prince was the greatest affirmation, representing supreme honor.
Rostislav's thoughts were entirely on this silver mine, pondering how to develop it, and worries also emerged after the initial joy.
The discovery of a silver mine in Northeast Rus' could not be kept secret, and keeping it secret would be meaningless anyway. This would have a huge impact on the entire Rus'.
It was feared that the moment the news was released, adventurers and bankrupt individuals from all over Rus' would flock in like migrating fish. This was a silver mine; digging it meant money!
This was also something Rostislav was happy to see. With so many outsiders pouring in, Northeast Rus' was bound to undergo a major development, as various people would gather there, bringing diverse knowledge.
But worries also existed. In his memories from his previous life, the Kashen Silver Mine was a large mine. Such a large mine, once developed, absolutely could not be kept secret. At that time, his uncles would surely make moves, especially his second uncle.
And there was also the restless Volga Bulgaria. Those people might start a war to seize the silver mine, after all, the Bulgar also prospered through the silver trade on the Volga River.
Rostislav thought long and hard, realizing there was no way to avoid the tentacles, or even invasions, from other Princes and nobles.
Most importantly, he was eager to extract the silver and monetize it as development funds for his territory. Excavation and refining had to be done as early as possible. The only places in the entire Rus' where large quantities of resources could be purchased were Kiev and Novgorod, and transportation time back and forth accounted for the bulk of it.
And developing it purely on his own would take too much time and resources.
So the Prince made a decision internally: since it was going to cause a stir anyway, he might as well make it a big one! He would pull everyone in!
However, Rostislav, who was engrossed in his "grand strategy," did not notice that the highest authority in this prospecting team, the Greek engineer, was holding a piece of ore, about to speak but hesitating. His face was full of worry and fear, but seeing everyone else immersed in excitement, he still closed his mouth, choosing not to pour cold water on them. Taking this risk, whether successful or failed, held no meaning for him.