Chapter 178 - 178 Great Victory
Chapter 178 - 178 Great Victory
A messenger sent by Michael entered the fortress with the flag held high, exuding an air of confidence. Soldiers gathered near the supply station for their evening meal turned their attention to the messenger's booming announcement. The bustling fortress fell silent, the messenger's voice reverberating through the air.
"Urgent report! The special detachment led by Count Michael von Crassus, along with 2,000 soldiers, encountered the enemy vanguard during reconnaissance and annihilated them without a single casualty on our side! They are currently returning to the fortress. Additionally, be prepared, as the enemy is expected to arrive within a day!"
The messenger's powerful voice reached every corner of the fortress. Soldiers eating their rationed dinners in groups paused, and nobles enjoying their refined meals inside the fortress peeked out in curiosity.
Duke Capone looked up in disbelief, his spoon dropping to the floor with a clatter. "Did my youngest just achieve a military feat?"
The other nobles, who had also placed their children in the special detachment, were equally astonished. Parents knew the limits of their children. They had sent them off with the hope they would merely return alive from reconnaissance, yet now they were hearing of a victory. Their initial confusion soon gave way to pride, smiles spreading across their faces. The more adept a noble, the quicker they masked their surprise with expressions of delight.
A victory was still a victory, even if it had been won by chance. The nobles began to move swiftly. With their previously unremarkable offspring now basking in glory, they had to embellish the achievement, ensuring it was magnified.
Thanks to their efforts, the sound of victory horns echoed throughout the entire fortress of Orlando. Judging by the celebratory atmosphere, one might have thought the war had been decisively won.
When Michael entered the fortress with his knights, exhausted from battle, he was taken aback. Flags fluttered everywhere, military bands played drums and horns, and soldiers lined the streets, cheering and waving banners.
The preemptive dispatch of a messenger had been worth it. What might have been considered a routine skirmish had been turned into a grand event by the nobles eager to promote their children.
Pamir Empire Camp
In the camp of the Pamir Empire, Crown Prince Oswald's command tent glowed brightly in the dark, illuminated by magical lanterns. The unique milky-white light of the lanterns reached every corner of the massive tent.
Seated at a large wooden table, the crown prince was busily poring over maps and supply reports. His hands moved swiftly over the documents until they abruptly stopped, and he began tapping the table. The realization dawned on him—there had been no word from the reconnaissance unit dispatched earlier.
Oswald shook a gilded bell, summoning his guard stationed outside the tent. A tall, silver-haired man entered swiftly and knelt before him.
"Kahut, is there still no news from the tribal alliance unit sent on reconnaissance?"
The guard, his face reflecting both respect and apprehension, responded, "Your Highness, I regret to inform you that there is no news yet."
Deep lines formed on Oswald's forehead. This was unusual. After a moment of contemplation, he made a decision. "Go to the chieftain of the Black Hawk Tribe and tell him to select an elite team to
Oswald's thoughts turned bitterly to the five great tribes, their obstinate chieftains, and their unyielding ways. Descendants of beastfolk, their obsession with lineage was beyond comprehension. Those with purer bloodlines could fully transform into beastly forms, while those with diluted bloodlines barely managed to sprout excessive fur. The disparities between tribes grew, with the strong withdrawing and the weak pushed to the frontlines, perpetuating a cycle of death and decay.
If the lower tribes rebelled, it wouldn't come as a surprise.
"This won't do. Drastic measures are needed," Oswald muttered, determined.
Before he could elaborate, a loud commotion erupted outside the tent. The familiar voice of Falcon, the chieftain of the Black Hawk Tribe, cut through the air.
"Stop! You need His Highness's permission to enter!"
"Step aside! I've come by his command!" Falcon barked back.
Carlton quickly stepped into the shadows. Oswald opened his eyes, shaking his head as the tent's door was pushed open with force.
EFB