The twilight light poured onto the watchtower of Silver Creek Mines, illuminating the exquisite pipe seized by Count Albert.
He gently stroked the pipeâs patterns, gazing beyond the tower eaves, toward the mineâs plaza below.
Two armies were transitioning their defenses.
One was the legion formed from the fusion of the Red Tide and Northern Army, their black uniforms appearing like the Death God in the sunset.
Albert watched this scene, a feeling he couldnât quite describe surged within him.
A few months ago, he worried that the rigid nature of the Red Tide would grind away the fighting spirit of the Northern men.
But as they fought through battles, what he saw was not a tamed beast, but a pack of wolves that understood discipline.
This change brought him comfort, yet it also involuntarily reminded him of that rainy night ten days ago, their first battle.
Only then he realized the true strength of Louisâs team.
Rain fell like a waterfall, crashing down from the sky.
When lightning illuminated the sky, Albert remembered standing in the mud outside Black Pine Fortress, looking skeptically at Lambert beside him.
Louis letting a naive youngster command? Too reckless.
The terrain of Black Pine Fortress couldnât be captured without sacrificing lives, let alone achieving zero combat losses.
He had even decided that if Lambert commanded improperly, he would immediately take over and lead the charge.
Yet, Lambert didnât give him that chance.
The young man merely glanced at the letter written by Louis himself in his hand, then raised his hand and pointed at an inconspicuous section of the northwest wall of Black Pine Fortress.
Soon, a few knights, like shadows conjured up in the night, silently climbed the wall.
Albert remembered clearly, only a few dull crossbow thuds were heard, followed by a thunder-covered "boom."
As the flames lit up, that section of the wall was already cracked, stones rolling down.
At that moment, he was stunned.
It was as if Louis had disassembled the fortress beforehand, knowing which section of the stone was of the poorest quality, and which guards would slack off on a rainy night.
Albert had a near absurd thought: "If it were me defending the city, I wouldnât even know how I died."
More shocking than breaking the fortress were the actions of the Red Tide Army after the breach.
The treasury door was blasted open, the wage boxes scattered everywhere, a golden spectacle.
The Northern knights instinctively rushed to snatch money.
He didnât find it wrong, after all, in the harsh Northern Territory, exchanging life for money was not disgraceful.
However, he would never forget Lambertâs silhouette.
Before a mountain of wealth, the young legion commander, without any hesitation, simply raised his hand.
The Red Tide Knights walked past them; no one reached out to touch even a single coin.
Albert was stunned in place at the time, his chest felt like it was struck by a blunt object.
What he believed was Northern pride, at that moment, felt like peeling away the skin of disguise.
What Louis trained was a different kind of army that could remain calm in the face of a mountain of gold, though he later learned of the treatment of the Red Tide Knights, and wasnât so surprised.
He opened the Gray Rock map, a quarter of the Gray Rock Province had already been washed with the color of the Red Tide Legion.
A chill crawled up his spine.
He imagined an extremely dangerous hypothesis: "If I were Raymondâs vassal... or if there were a civil war in the Northern Territory, and I chose the opposing side of Louis..."
Scenes flickered in his mind:
He knew very well what it would be like once he stood on the opposite side, intelligence couldnât be hidden at all, all deployments laid out like paper on the opponentâs table.
Those hidden tactics wouldnât hold for long before being exposed.
The city walls couldnât even sustain the first alarm against the Magic Explosion Bullet, and as for those knights of his, they probably wouldnât have time to react before being crushed by the iron tide.
Albertâs throat tightened, coming to an undeniable conclusion: "Wouldnât hold for a day. No... wouldnât hold for half a day. My head would hang on the flagpole."
The tobacco in the pipe burned his fingertips unknowingly, making Albert shiver and come back from his memories.
"Count," Lambert pushed the door open, carrying the smell of smoke, "Silver Creek Mines have been cleaned up. As usual, the porridge tent has been set up, and the tyrannical mine owners are under public trial. Your knight order... did a very good job this time."
Albert couldnât help but smile, surprised that heâd be so happy to be complimented by someone of humble origin and half his age.
Suppressing the chill in his heart, he said to Lambert, "Lambert, whereâs the next target? Is it Red Leaf Town ahead, or White River Crossing? My knight order requests to take the lead."
Lambert didnât directly deny, but walked to the map, picked up a red pen, and lightly marked crosses next to several frontline strongholds.
His tone was steady and polite: "Count, if it were customary times, Iâd surely support you leading the charge. But Lord Louis reminded me that the current situation has changed."
Albert frowned: "Several towns around are as empty as the bottom of a barrel. My men can randomly pick one to charge and directly occupy it."
"Precisely because of this, the enemy wonât be careless anymore." Lambert pointed at the densely packed red dots on the map. "Previous victories were based on intelligence blockades. They didnât know where we came from, nor where the next blow would fall. Thatâs different now."
He traced down the main road of Gray Rock Province: "According to Lord Louis, our entry information into Gray Rock Province has already returned to Gray Rock Castle.
Kael Remontâs reaction must be very quick; all vassals are converging toward the center. They burn grain, shut gates, drive laborers into the fortress, and turn those peripheral outposts into hollow shells but filled with traps."