Chapter 406: 406 - Tamers War - Traitors March

Chapter 406: Chapter 406 – Tamers War – Traitors March

Kharzan advanced at the center of his military column, surrounded by the rhythmic thunder of 10,000 soldiers marching toward their destiny.

The mass of armed bodies extending both ahead and behind his position provided a sensation of security that had been absent during the last months.

‘Finally,’ he thought while observing the organized ranks. ‘Finally I have the power to decide the course of this war.’

But frustration continued gnawing at the edges of his confidence like a persistent wound.

“General Valdris!” he called to the commander advancing at his side. “Any new reports about the situation at the destroyed section of the wall?”

“Negative, my Lord,” Valdris responded, his voice carrying the weight of unwelcome news. “The wall has been rebuilt, but the intruders continue without being stopped. Patrols report signs of continuous advance toward your castle in our rear guard, but they haven’t managed to establish direct contact.”

Kharzan’s knuckles whitened.

It was maddening to know his territory was being violated by someone while he marched toward a battle that would determine the future of both kingdoms. The taste of bile rose in his throat as he imagined unknown enemies moving freely through lands his family had controlled for generations.

But the situation was on his side. That had to be enough.

He had committed to this strategy after weeks of careful analysis, weighing every variable, every possible outcome. Sleep had become a luxury he couldn’t afford as he pored over maps and troop reports deep into the night.

Of his just over 20,000 total troops, he had stationed half, approximately 10,000 soldiers, along the 150 kilometer frontier separating his territory from old Yano’s.

With that distribution, he had groups of six to seven Silver-rank soldiers every 100 meters. The spacing was tight enough that any intense disturbance in one part of the wall should provoke instant reaction from three squadrons, 20 people in total.

Within minutes, between 70 and 100 soldiers should be able to respond easily to any intense attack in any zone.

So how had someone managed to pass through by eliminating just a single squadron?

The question clawed at his mind like a persistent itch. Was an elite group trying to assassinate him?

‘In theory, they shouldn’t have that type of soldier available with the bridge situation,’ he corrected himself mentally. ‘But theories have the annoying tendency to collapse when faced with reality.’

The scrolls and tactical manuals gathering dust in his study had never accounted for the chaos of real warfare.

The other half of his forces… the 10,000 soldiers now accompanying him, hadn’t been destined to strengthen the new frontier divisions. Instead, he had made the bold decision to gather all that force to push toward the bridge and support the operations developing there.

The risk was enormous. If his gamble failed, he would have committed half his entire mobile reserve to a single decisive action.

“My Lord,” a soldier interrupted, approaching with urgent steps and a message clutched in his hand.

Kharzan extended his hand to receive it, noting how the messenger’s fingers trembled slightly. Battle nerves were contagious.

“According to our aerial scouts,” the soldier continued, his voice steady despite his obvious anxiety, “on the other side of our new frontier, Yano still hasn’t significantly strengthened their troops. They only have 5,000 soldiers extended in passive defense, retreating before the advance of ours who are double their number. Meanwhile, the vast majority, approximately 12,000, have headed to the bridge and are fighting to stop the advance right now.”

The numbers were encouraging, but Kharzan knew they only told part of the story.

“And the estimates of Yano’s total forces?” he asked, leaning forward in his saddle.

A squad leader from the logistics team consulted his notes, pages rustling in the wind as he searched for the relevant information.

“We believe Yano must have a total of approximately 80,000 combat troops of Silver 1 rank and above, excluding our 20,000, my Lord.” The logistics leader paused, his expression growing more complex. “But there are complicating factors that won’t allow them to deploy more than 25,000, at least not soon.”

Kharzan’s eyebrows rose. That was a significant limitation… one that could work decisively in his favor if he acted quickly enough.

“Explain. I thought they would mobilize more troops sooner.”

“The abyss frontier, first of all, already occupies almost 40,000 troops stationed at all times along the enormous expanse, ensuring we’re not invaded by abyssal creatures,” the logistics leader explained, his voice taking on the tone of someone reciting carefully verified intelligence. “According to our sources, those still haven’t moved.”

Kharzan nodded grimly.

It was a strategic reality both kingdoms shared: a significant portion of any army had to be permanently dedicated to defending against abyssal beast incursions.

The abyss frontier was like a wound that never healed, constantly requiring fresh blood to keep the infection from spreading.

“And why haven’t the remaining 40,000…?”

“That’s where it becomes pleasant, my Lord.” A satisfied smile crossed the logistics leader’s weathered features. “The largest portion of the lower Silver ranks corresponds to the Starweavers, but to the family branch that Sirius has lost control of. It seems they received your ‘positive suggestion’ and are waiting to see what happens.”

Kharzan straightened, every nerve suddenly alert. This was the kind of information that could shift the entire strategic landscape.

Political fractures within enemy ranks were worth more than a dozen military victories. When families turned against each other, kingdoms fell.

“Of the 20,000 soldiers the Starweavers had years ago,” the logistics leader continued, his voice gaining confidence as he delivered increasingly favorable news, “only 5,000 are currently on the abyss frontier. Of the other 15,000, they had lost 2,000 in the last abyssal attack, which broke Sirius’s chain of command and made him lose credibility, so now…”

The pieces of the political puzzle were falling into place beautifully. Kharzan had spent years cultivating relationships within the Starweaver family, planting seeds of doubt about Sirius’s leadership capabilities.

“What’s the current situation of loyalties? Has the mute idiot recovered?”

“Almost 12,000 soldiers are under the control of Sirius’s brothers and cousins,” the logistics leader reported with satisfaction. “He has only recovered about 1,000 under his direct command.”

A fierce smile crossed Kharzan’s face, transforming his features into something predatory.

“And his cousins then? Did their faction respond to us?”

“They don’t seem ready to support war efforts, my Lord.” The logistics leader’s tone suggested careful intelligence gathering rather than speculation. “But they’ve entrenched themselves in their own territory to secure their fat hides. Or that’s what Sirius and his allies must think, which serves us perfectly.”

Kharzan reviewed the numbers mentally, each calculation building his confidence like stones in a fortress wall.

Of Yano’s 80,000 total troops under Sirius, Selphira, and the princes, only 25,000 thousand were readily available. Worse for them, not all had been collected yet… the surprise of the swift total attack had been difficult to counter logistically.

“We estimate they’re missing about 8,000 troops from the 25,000 total they should be able to mobilize soon,” the logistics leader concluded. “Most are opportunists, my Lord.”

Kharzan felt a surge of genuine optimism coursing through his veins.

The numbers worked in his favor, but only if he acted quickly. Every hour of delay gave Yano more time to consolidate their forces, to call in troops from distant garrisons, to shore up their political fractures.

“If I don’t apply pressure, my numerical advantage won’t last forever,” he murmured to himself, the words carried away by the wind and the tramping of ten thousand feet.

“Once they absorb troops from the abyss frontiers, I’ll be lost.”

The strategy crystallized in his mind with perfect clarity: the only way to secure his advantage was by opening the bridge and pushing the new frontier simultaneously. If he pushed successfully, the remaining opportunistic nobles on his side of the new frontier would have to accept conscription.

Seeing his side winning while their allies were occupied at the bridge would create a cascade effect. Success bred success, just as defeat bred more defeat.

With luck, Kharzan’s side would return to 25% support, which would increase his numbers to about 25,000 total.

The political mathematics were as important as the military ones. In civil wars, perception often mattered more than reality.

‘We don’t have a single soldier on our territory’s abyss frontier right now,’ he reflected with satisfaction. ‘Thanks to Yino, we don’t need to worry about our abyssal defenses.’

“Valdris,” he called, turning toward his most trusted general. “What about Yino activity in our section of the abyss?”

Valdris exchanged a significant glance with the logistics leader, the kind of look that passed between men who shared dangerous secrets.

“It seems Yino is taking advantage of our ‘kind blindness’ on that side to prepare new crossings, my Lord.”

Kharzan nodded, unsurprised. He had expected as much.

The alliance with Yino required certain… accommodations. Allowing them to use his territory’s abyss access was a calculated risk, one that could pay enormous dividends if the joint campaign succeeded.

“Time estimate for them to complete crossing structures?”

“It would take considerable time, my Lord.” Valdris’s voice carried the authority of someone who had overseen similar engineering projects. “Creating structures capable of supporting such a long bridge takes time, and remember that the enormous rope crossing they had managed to build once was destroyed by Victor more than half a year ago.”

The memory of that setback still stung. Victor’s aerial superiority had cost them years of work and enormous resources.

‘At least they could install smaller temporary ones and cross more aggressively to my side,’ Kharzan thought pragmatically. ‘I’ll communicate with them to give them open permission. It’s time to accumulate achievements in this “joint campaign” to secure my place after the war.’

Political survival required thinking beyond the immediate conflict. When the dust settled, he needed to be positioned as a valuable ally.

For the moment, he only needed to take the bridge, and everything else would become insignificant. Once he had control of the bridge, when Yino sent their sea of ‘low-ranking’ Silver 1 summoners, it would be about 325,000 against Yano’s 75,000.

Even with the quality difference favoring Yano, if they had free crossing and could form properly, the castle should be easy to conquer with those numbers.

The mathematical certainty was intoxicating. No amount of individual skill could overcome such overwhelming numerical superiority, especially when backed by Yino’s abyssal corruption.

“My Lord,” interrupted a messenger who had flown from the vanguard, his aerial mount settling beside the column in a cloud of dust and beating wings. “We reach assault positions in thirty minutes.”

Kharzan’s pulse quickened. After months of planning and political maneuvering, the moment of truth was finally approaching.

“Excellent. Colonel Valdris, prepare the assault units.” His voice carried across the marching ranks with the authority of absolute command. “Communications Leader Voss, maintain constant communication with our frontier forces. I want perfect coordination of our second phase when the attack begins. We’ll absorb 5,000 soldiers from our new frontier for the bridge attack.”

The orders rippled through the command structure like waves, each officer passing instructions down the chain. The great machine of war was finally grinding into motion.

As his column approached the point where the war would be decided, Kharzan allowed himself a moment of satisfaction.

The numbers were on his side. The strategy was solid. He had real power to implement his plans.

The weight of his decisions pressed down on his shoulders, but it was a good weight… the weight for a man who held destiny in his hands.

‘Let’s see if their Yano can handle a war on three fronts,’ he thought with fierce determination. ‘Let’s see if Selphira and Sirius’s famous elite tamers can compensate when they’re outnumbered four to one.’

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