Two days after the grand amnesty, an elite cavalry legion arrives at Six Bay Mountain.

Behind these riders, black cloaks flutter, embroidered with a fierce raptor poised to strike. Numbering around five thousand, they are impeccably equipped.

Though not heavy cavalry, each soldier wears armor and wields a lance over four meters long. Clearly, this is a charge cavalry, a formidable mobile force in any nation.

The allied commanders stationed at the fortifications come down to speak with the cavalry’s general.

“Night Falcon Knights? Looks like your king is quite furious. Planning to use you to crush that retreating allied force?”

Knight Commander Wallace responds, “It’s because you’ve taken too long. We were originally set to intercept the Billie Kingdom’s Red Hawk Knights. We hoped to determine who the real falcon is, but now we have to chase down a bunch of infantry. What a disappointment!”

As they converse, a squad of knights in silver armor arrives.

“Marquis Wallace. This is the latest command from the king. Headquarters requires your immediate action.”

Marquis Wallace takes the metal tube, checks the seal for authenticity, and then opens it.

After reading, the paper turns to ash in his hand. “Dispatch orders! Move southwest!”

Marquis Wallace nods to the general defending the area, then leads the Night Falcon Knights as they roar through the valley, heading southwest.

Within the ranks, an officer grins at his comrade, “Obian, you must be pleased. We don’t have to chase down that routed army anymore. Judging by our direction, we’re likely pursuing the main allied force. You’ve always wanted a fight with them, and now’s your chance.”

Obian’s eyes burn with hatred. “Those bastards killed my family. I’m going to wipe them out!”

And so, Henwell and Obian narrowly miss each other, avoiding a tragic confrontation between father and son.

Unaware of this, Henwell continues his escape according to plan. In two days, they’ll reach their first supply point. Whether his plan succeeds depends on the local nobles’ response.

Two days later, Stone Monument City is in turmoil, with the city lord and various nobles gathered in the castle to discuss their predicament.

“The enemy is advancing fiercely. We must fortify our defenses and deny them resources to prevent them from growing stronger!”

“Yes! We must drive these invaders out!”

“Stone Monument City is fortified. They don’t have the numbers, and having come from afar, they can’t possibly breach our defenses!”

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“They won’t stay long; their supplies must be running low!”

“In that case, we need mobile forces to ensure they can’t leave a contingent behind to besiege us!”

……

Amidst the noisy discussions, not a single voice calls for taking the fight to the enemy. This infuriates Lord Saxon, the city lord.

These nobles are notorious for delaying their taxes to the kingdom, constantly hosting extravagant banquets just to boast about their supposed bravery.

They endlessly brag about their battlefield exploits and the number of enemies they’ve slain.

The more they drink, the more exaggerated their tales become, especially in front of the ladies.

If they possessed even a tenth of the capabilities they claim, they could easily handle the enemy outside.

But now?

The enemy is literally at their doorstep. These nobles don’t even dare remain in their own castles and have fled to Stone Monument City, under the pretense of discussing defense strategies with him.

It’s shameless.

Suppressing his anger, Saxon taps the table. “Gentlemen! I have something here for you all to see!” A guard enters, carrying a tray with a roll of parchment. As it is passed around, no one speaks or even looks at Saxon.

Saxon taps the table again, asking, “Well, gentlemen? How should we respond?”

“It’s a trick of the enemy!”

“They must be out of supplies! We can’t let them succeed!”

“Yes, exactly! Starve them out! We can achieve victory without shedding a drop of blood!”

……

Saxon surveys the room.

“So, shall we respond to them as you’ve suggested?”

The nobles nod in agreement.

Saxon continues, “Additionally, I have their verbal message. They said that if no one trades with them, they can’t guarantee that the enemy outside won’t launch an attack on us. In their words, they’re just here to do business.”

“The enemy isn’t looking to occupy this place; they’re trying to escape the country. They’re exhausted and just want some food and a place to rest for a day or two.”

“If they can’t buy what they need, they’ll simply take it. Stone Monument City isn’t their target, but your castles and lands might be.”

This revelation leaves the gathered lords and nobles stunned. A long silence follows as they exchange glances, communicating silently with one another.

After what feels like an eternity, an elder noble finally speaks up, “Lord Saxon, what do you propose we do?”

Saxon, with a hint of sarcasm, replies, “Me? I think we should fight the enemy to the end, just as you all suggested earlier. I propose we march out tomorrow.”

“Each of you should contribute forces: three hundred from the viscounts, a hundred from the barons, and fifty from the knights.”

“Combined with the three thousand city guards, we’ll have at least ten thousand strong. That should put us on even footing with the enemy. I’ve heard that many of you are veterans, capable of taking on ten men each. Together, we can wipe out the invaders.”

The nobles are visibly uncomfortable with this suggestion.

The elder noble coughs, “Ahem. Lord Saxon, our duty is to protect the people and the land. Now that the enemy is hesitant, reigniting conflict isn’t wise.”

“So, Viscount Glass, what do you suggest? Should we give in to their demands?”

Glass smiles awkwardly, “I wouldn’t call it extortion. They’re offering fair prices. They’re merchants, not soldiers. I think trading with them might not be a bad idea.”

Another noble agrees, “But how do we go about this, and how can we ensure they keep their word?”

Saxon pauses before responding, “They’ll send a representative to discuss the details of the trade.”

Meanwhile, in a camp several miles outside Stone Monument City, Fabio protests, “No way! You can’t go! If something happens to you, it wouldn’t be worth it!”

Henwell insists, “Someone has to make contact with them.”

“But we can’t send a kid like you.”

Henwell shakes his head, “No, it has to be me. I’m the only one who knows how this plan should unfold. We can’t let too many people in on this, and as a kid, they have no reason to harm me.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep