Chapter One Hundred: The Command

“Damn!”

Beneath the broad city wall, the soldiers, their bodies stained with blood, surged forward wildly, trying to seize the fortressed city before them.

In the distance stood a vast encampment, with several especially tall platforms where men watched the battle.

Barret looked at the stalemate ahead, his face dark with displeasure.
“Three months, and for only one city, it has held up my fifty thousand men for so long?”

Seeing him like that, some officers and nobles standing nearby let out quiet sighs, as though even they were stunned by the situation.

For centuries, the Principality of Endeli had been one of the strongest powers in the northern lands. Since King Barret came to the throne, he had been victorious in everything, subduing the old principalities that once dared oppose him, and nearly sweeping the whole North.

This campaign had been born of pressure from the royal court and of a desire to settle everything at once: conquer the entire North in one stroke, then, while the court was busy and unable to move, descend south. So nearly all his forces were thrown out, fifty thousand troops, a force so immense that nothing before had stood against them. Yet they had still been held back by the enemy. It was, by any measure, astonishing.

In his mind, and in theirs, they could scarcely help but admire the resistance, even as their expressions grew severe beneath the pressure.

A noble stepped forward and, seeing Barret’s dark mood, said, “Your Majesty, we have just received word from the rear. Our slave soldiers are running low, and food supplies are beginning to run short.”

Barret blinked in surprise. “Have they all been killed?”

He lifted his gaze to the ground, at the bodies and bloodstains spread across the earth, his face showing no joy or sorrow. “How many men have we lost these past days?”

No one answered at once. At once, the men below him looked at one another helplessly.

When the noble who had just spoken saw this, he let out a faint sigh. He knew these men dared not step forward while the king was in such a bad temper.

They all knew Barret had never possessed a gentle temperament—on the contrary, he was rough and cruel. And recently, with these repeated setbacks, his mood had been foul; not long ago he had even killed one of his favored consorts for accidentally breaking a wine goblet.

In this situation, none of them dared to speak too freely, fearing for their lives.

He swallowed his nerves and stepped closer, staring into Barret’s grim eyes. “On the slave-soldier side, our assaults were so fierce and the enemy crossbows so deadly that they have been worn down by nearly seventy percent. Only a few thousand remain.”

“As for the knights, casualties are also severe: three thousand dead or gravely wounded. The lightly wounded, perhaps seven or eight thousand, should recover, and nearly all were struck by the enemy crossbows or divine arts.”

When he said this, Barret frowned but said nothing. The old dark, savage look in his eyes suddenly went flat and still, all bluster gone.

After a while he raised his head again. “So we have lost and badly wounded close to ten thousand men, with more than ten thousand light injuries?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

For a moment, silence. Then another figure stepped forward: a broad-shouldered officer in armor, his face marked by scars. “Your Majesty, why worry?”

“The Principality of Aedis is weaker than us to begin with, and its troops are still less than half our number. Even with the wall for defense, by now they should not have been able to hold on much longer.”

“We still have tens of thousands of slave soldiers to spend,” he continued, “while they can defend only with soldiers on the wall. To hold this city for three months is extraordinary. They must have spent almost all their strength.”

Barret nodded.

It was common sense. If it had been this hard even with overwhelming numbers, then their position must be far worse. With a little more time, the defenses would surely crumble.

He looked toward the front, watching the battle still raging.
“Indeed, their power to resist has weakened greatly.”

Now, on the wall, a line once firm and steady had begun to ripple. Now and then warriors climbed up to the parapet. They were still being driven back—but compared with three months before, the line had clearly grown much weaker.

“Give the order. Pull some slave soldiers and knights from the rear, and issue a levy to call for more troops from the lords. We must keep the pressure on.”

“At the same time, command our vassal city-states to send grain. Those who fail to comply will be put to the sword.”

He clenched his fist hard, and from within him a savage battle force seemed to gather, ready to break forth.
“This month, Cecil City must fall!”

At once, those below replied with grim assent.

Yet amid that there was still a worried voice.
“Your Highness, those vassal states that answered our call have already sent much of their own troops to join the campaign against Aedis. If we now force them to provide grain as well, might they not grow resentful?”

It was a practical fear. Feeding an army of this size was no small burden; these small city-states had already bled their strength to join the war under Endeli’s authority. Push them further, and something unexpected could happen.

Barret answered with contempt. “A handful of worthless men who cannot breach even a fortification with little garrison—what power does their resentment have?”

“So long as our army still marches, their complaints matter little. No matter how bitter they are, they must kneel.”

His gaze swept over the men before him, cold and unsmiling. “This battle is the key. Once we win and take Cecil City, there will be no foe in this vast North that can stand against us.”

“Women, wealth, and land—we will plunder them all from the enemy. Then those petty city-states will crouch ever lower at our feet, too afraid even to speak.”

There was in him a terrifying, tyrannical magnificence, a force that struck fear. The men before him felt it.

Seeing Barret in this state, they stiffened in silence. No one could dare oppose him now.

And in that instant, the whole place fell heavy with silence.