After everything was over, the nobles who had given chase returned with their heads hanging.
They had repelled the enemy and even achieved impressive results, but there wasn't a trace of joy on anyone's face.
As a Count, Offman Deriman's death would have caused a massive uproar among the nobility in peacetime.
Countless nobles would have come to pay their respects.
Even the King would have personally written a letter of condolence.
Unfortunately, this was wartime. For a Count to die in wartime was all too normal. Over in Barol City, it wasn't just Counts—no one, from royalty to the highest officials, was safe.
Although they couldn't hold a funeral for Count Offman, they could at least pay him some basic respects—even if those respects wouldn't last for long.
Robson naturally lowered his head as well, joining the others in the somber atmosphere.
On the way back to the army, it was the adjutant Count Offman had left behind who finally broke the deadlock.
Since Count Offman had been bold enough to lead the charge, he had naturally made contingency plans and taken care of all subsequent arrangements.
"Everyone, now is not the time for grief. The enemy may have been repelled, but we don't know when they might charge back. Not to mention, the Fourth Prince of the Beast Race is still out there. The Beastmen's Wolf Cavalry dominates the battlefield with its speed, and that Fourth Prince commands over ten thousand Wolf Cavalry, including several thousand Extraordinary Wolf Cavalry."
"Instead of sitting around, we need to act now. I'm sure the Count's spirit wouldn't want us to grieve uselessly and squander the opportunity he created for us," the adjutant declared.
His words immediately reignited the group's spirit, and the somber atmosphere began to dissipate.
Their grief was genuine, but for a proper noble, emotional control and a clear head were fundamental skills.
Everyone respected Count Offman, of course, but once their respects were paid, it was back to business.
Nobles had no time for prolonged sorrow. A proper noble always let reason take precedence.
Especially now, at a critical juncture between life and death, every minute of delay was an act of irresponsibility toward their own lives.
A buzz of discussion erupted, but no matter who spoke, the conclusion was unanimous: split up and run.
The army that had broken out of Sunset Fortress numbered nearly twenty thousand, and that wasn't even counting those who had scattered...
Such a large group was an easy target; even if they fled into the mountains to the southwest, the Beastmen's cavalry would catch them sooner or later.
No one here had any news from the Siriel Defense Line, so they had no idea if reinforcements were on their way.
They couldn't take that gamble; no one was willing to bet their life on the actions of others.
Everyone knew this. In fact, this had been the plan all along, even back at Sunset Fortress.
"Yes, the Count's final orders align with what you are all thinking. The troops are about to enter the mountains, so let's part ways here," the adjutant said.
The adjutant's only mission was to escort the Sunset Knight Order safely to Shirel Fortress. The fate of the others was not his concern; the Sunset Knight Order was the most crucial part of the forces from Sunset Fortress.
This current situation suited his purpose perfectly.
At the adjutant's words, the crowd nodded and immediately began looking for allies, preparing to split off from the main force.
The lively atmosphere didn't diminish in the slightest; if anything, it grew even more intense.
Everyone began leveraging their connections, scrambling to find allies.
The road ahead would be perilous. Though they were splitting up, they needed some defensive capability to preserve their own troops.
Otherwise, even an encounter with a simple band of goblins could result in devastating losses.
At a time like this, finding a suitable ally to travel with was the best option.
What surprised Robson was that he, too, was one of the people others were approaching.
Several minor nobles were actually seeking his protection.
Most of these nobles had been with Robson during the defense of West City and had seen the combat effectiveness of his troops firsthand.
Furthermore, Robson's initiative in stepping up to defend the city had also left a deep impression on the West City Nobles present at the time.
In the eyes of those in the know, Robson was now an ideal ally, possessing both martial prowess and good character.
Of course, they were a minority. Most people's impression of Robson was still that of the quick-witted kid who had saved the Count's life, not the Divine Archer commanding elite troops.
They preferred to ally with higher-ranking nobles, like Viscounts, since a title was usually a guarantee of strength.
The commotion didn't last long; everyone knew the situation was urgent.
After finding their allies, they departed quickly.
Robson looked at the nobles who had come to pledge their allegiance, but internally, he wasn't particularly eager to accept them.
'If I bring this group of liabilities with me, my escape will be slowed down considerably. It's not a safe plan at all.'
'But this is the kind of thing you can't just refuse. After all, the noble circles are only so big.'
'If I refuse them now, within a few hours, word will spread among all the nobles from Sunset Fortress that Robson is merciless.'
'I can't let that kind of rumor start.'
He took a quick count. Fortunately, this group of nobles hadn't brought many Peasant Soldiers with them.
The defenses of West City had always been the weakest of the three districts, and they had taken a direct charge from the enemy's Werewolf Corps before the breakout.
The Werewolf Corps could basically be considered a professional army.
Furthermore, any nobles with substantial strength of their own would have chosen to travel alone.
When all these factors were combined, the four nobles' armies totaled just over four hundred Peasant Soldiers.
"If you all wish to travel with me, then I, Robson, naturally welcome you."
"However, you must place your armies under my command. Otherwise, our pace will be severely hampered," Robson stated.
"Of course, of course," Baron Oli said with a nod.
It was rather awkward; Baron Oli had once been counted among the more capable nobles. Even if he couldn't attract other minor nobles for aid, retreating to the Siriel Defense Line on his own should have been no problem at all.
Unfortunately, Baron Oli had started squandering his resources the moment he arrived in West City, and now his small fortune was all but gone.
He was the one with the smallest army present.
After Baron Oli agreed, the other three nobles quickly followed suit, nodding their assent.
"DING! You have successfully recruited 402 Frankish Peasants."
"In that case, let's set out at once."
Upon hearing the system notification, Robson immediately gave the order.
It was a simple matter of assigning a few of his Tier Four Soldiers to act as low-level officers.
At worst, he could just use them as laborers. Robson's preparations for the breakout had been so thorough that his supplies required dozens of pack horses. He was running short on manpower, and in the mountains ahead, they couldn't rely on horses and carts alone.