Chapter 196: The Aftermath of Securing Three Fortress

Dawn broke over the ruined fortress. Smoke drifted lazily from the shattered gates to coat the courtyard in a grey haze. Local soldiers moved swiftly through the rubble to secure the perimeter and organize the aftermath.

Aaron stood near the center of the courtyard. He drove his greatsword into the cracked stone and began directing the cleanup efforts.

“Secure those prisoners!” Aaron barked. He pointed toward a huddled group of surviving Fourth Continent soldiers. “Strip their armor and bind them with heavy iron. I want them separated by rank for interrogation.”

Kingdom Knights roughly hauled the captives to their feet, tossing aside the enemy insignias before forcing them toward the lower dungeons. Medics rushed past the prisoners with stretchers to carry the wounded toward a makeshift triage center near the eastern barracks. Healing magic pulsed softly through the morning air as clerics tended to the injured.

Iron-Scale sat quietly atop a collapsed pillar near the entrance. He slowly ran a whetstone down the edge of his blade. Gulag leaned against the adjacent wall with her mace resting comfortably on her shoulder.

Neither Vanguard commander spoke a word or offered to help with the mundane procedures. Their part of the slaughter had ended, leaving the tedious logistics entirely to the locals.

Elder Syra moved smoothly through the bustling courtyard instead. She kept her footsteps completely silent while holding a small journal to jot down quick observations.

’They prioritize their wounded over looting the dead,’

Syra thought, her pen scratching across the parchment. ’Fascinating. Back in the wild zones, the dead simply feed the swarm. Then again, we never got injured enough to be treated like that, thanks to the river.’

She paused near the triage tent to watch a local cleric recite a short prayer before applying a poultice to a knight’s torn arm. The ritualistic nature of their healing process intrigued her greatly. She quickly noted the specific cadence of the prayer and the exact herbs used in the bandage. Understanding these formalities would prove useful for future integration.

A local captain approached Aaron and saluted crisply.

“Sir,” the captain reported. “The dungeons are secure. The quartermaster is currently tallying the stolen grain in the vaults. We have enough provisions to feed the army for the rest of the march.”

“Excellent,” Aaron replied. “Establish the guard rotations immediately. I want the men rested and be fed by noon. We cannot afford to linger here. The shipyards are our final target.”

Syra recorded the military salute and the local chain of command in her book. She snapped the journal shut and slipped it into her cloak. The Second Continent operated on strict protocol, and she intended to learn every single rule before they crossed the ocean.

The cleanup efforts extended well into the afternoon, smoothly shifting the aftermath into a strict military occupation. The combined army spent three full days inside the reclaimed capital to properly stabilize the territory before moving forward.

While clerics tended the wounded and quartermasters cataloged the stolen grain, mounted scouts swept through the surrounding valleys. They carried royal summons directly from Aaron, demanding the immediate presence of every regional noble who managed the nearby lands.

By the dawn of the third day, a small crowd of local dukes, counts, and barons stood nervously in the center of the courtyard. They wore pristine silk tunics that looked entirely out of place against the bloodstained stone.

Aaron stood before them on the steps of the central keep. He rested his gauntleted hands on the pommel of his sheathed greatsword.

“You will answer directly to the newly appointed garrison commander,” Aaron instructed. His tone left absolutely no room for debate. “Your local taxes will fund the supply caravans moving toward the coast. If I hear even a whisper of rebellion or withheld resources, I will consider it an act of treason against the crown.”

The nobles offered hurried, synchronized bows to signal their submission. Several of the dukes kept casting terrified glances toward the eastern barracks. Gulag sat on a pile of rubble there, casually crushing a stray chimera skull beneath her boot. The predatory presence of the Vanguard served as a highly effective leash.

A few yards away, Iron-Scale finalized the defensive lines. He handed a detailed patrol map to a trusted Kobold lieutenant.

“Take three thousand of our soldiers and secure the outer walls,” Iron-Scale ordered. “Aaron is leaving five thousand kingdom troops to assist you. Hold this stronghold exactly as we did the previous two.”

“Understood, Commander,” the lieutenant replied. He offered a sharp salute before jogging off to rally the designated defenders.

Iron-Scale walked over to the keep steps to join Aaron. He checked the tension on his wire-spools.

“The garrison is set,” Iron-Scale noted quietly. “We are wasting daylight.”

“The administrative formalities were necessary to maintain order behind us,” Aaron replied, dismissing the trembling nobles with a wave of his hand.

He walked past the aristocrats and drew his silver sword, raising the glowing blade high for the entire courtyard to see.

“Our homeland is almost entirely ours again!” Aaron roared to the assembled thousands waiting in formation. “We march for the western shipyards! We push the enemy back into the sea!”

A roaring cheer erupted through the fortress. The local soldiers slammed their weapons against their shields in a thunderous display of morale.

Iron-Scale offered a slight nod. He walked past the nobles and took his place at the front of the marching column. Gulag cracked her neck and hoisted her mace over her shoulder. The iron doors of the stronghold opened outward, allowing the army to finally resume their march toward the coast.

Up in his sanctuary, Red was busy eating. While Glitch disturbed him constantly, as Red hadn’t been giving it much time to play since Red was busy with his planning and upcoming ascension.

He had received the notification from the Iron-Arbiter about the successful reclaim of the third fortress. And he had informed Red about his efforts to contact the former gods of the second continent who had left the continent because of constant war and the fear of getting deleted.

And none of them responded. Seemingly, they didn’t want to involve themselves with anything related to the second continent anymore.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep