Prelude to War

One day in August of that year, Baron Connor hurried to the earl's castle with several knights. Less than two days later, he hurried back to Glan Territory with them.

In his wake came an oppressive, tense atmosphere that spread throughout Glan Territory.

War was coming.

A real war.

Anyone could bleed—lords, knights, and especially those auxiliary soldiers and farmers.

The matter had begun with two noble factions that had been fighting in the Royal Capital Noble Court for more than three hundred years. Divided along north and south, the seven earldoms in the south of the kingdom had joined together as the "Southern Faction," while the seven earldoms in the north formed the "Northern Faction."

Perhaps because the King tacitly permitted it, the struggle between the two factions in the Noble Court was exceptionally fierce. They frequently quarled over matters such as the amount of tribute to be offered to the King, the choice of the court's chief judge, the selection of commanders for wars against neighboring countries, and candidates for royal chancellor in domestic affairs... Whenever major disagreements arose, arguments broke out. Whether Southern or Northern, both factions wanted to secure greater benefits for themselves in the Noble Court.

For example, this time, regarding the allocation of the five hundred warhorses that had to be offered to the King that year, the Southern Faction argued that the north had more highlands and more fine warhorses, demanding that the Northern Faction provide four hundred horses while the south provided one hundred.

The Northern Faction, meanwhile, argued that the south was warm and prosperous while the north was cold and poor. They demanded that the Southern Faction provide four hundred horses, claiming that the north's finances could only support one hundred.

Both sides had their own reasoning and argued fiercely. In the Noble Court, they even rolled up their sleeves and came to blows. The nobles ended up bruised and battered, with all their dignity and decorum gone.

After the King was alarmed, he had the chief judge issue an arbitration: the Southern and Northern Factions could each send a representative to fight a battle on their shared border. The winning side would only need to offer one hundred horses in tribute each year, while the losing side would need to offer four hundred.

If the battle ended in a draw, then each side would bear half the burden and offer two hundred and fifty horses.

After a round of negotiations, the southern and northern nobles accepted the arbitration—and even raised the stakes! The losing side would not only have to provide more tribute horses, but would also have to cede one-third of an earldom's land and population.

It was like pouring a basin of cold water into a pot of boiling oil. Earls from both factions clamored to fight, eager to smash open the heads of those "southerners" and "Northerners" they had long despised.

In the end, Baron Connor's direct superior—Earl Lautz—secured the task. He would send troops from his Rose Territory to wage war against Earl William's neighboring northern Merlin Territory. If he could crush Earl William's army, then one-third of Merlin Territory's land and population would belong to Earl Lautz.

As for whether he might lose?

Earl Lautz said that the thought had never even crossed his mind!

Earl Lautz might never have considered defeat, but Baron Connor had to. His Glan Territory lay right beside Merlin Territory. If Earl Lautz lost, then without question, Glan Territory would be ceded into the domain of Merlin Territory.

At that point, the lords and knights of Glan Territory, along with several other baronies that would be ceded, would completely lose their lands and subjects. They would become wandering lords and knights, dependent on the charity of others just to find somewhere to stay.

"Mobilize every knight. Take out all the assets in the castle and hire some mercenaries with decent combat ability. As for every strong farmer in the territory, have them stop their farm work immediately and conscript them all. Give them weapons and have them join this battle!"

Inside the castle's council hall, Baron Connor swiftly made his decision.

"Father, is there really any need to make such a fuss? The farmers are harvesting in the wheat fields right now. The war will not begin until September, after the wheat has been gathered. If we make them stop farming now, won't that delay the autumn harvest? Besides, those farmers are not much use anyway. Just hand them spears when the time comes."

Edward, seated beside the long council table, spoke dismissively. He had heard that those Northerners were formidable, but surely not formidable enough to warrant this much attention.

"They must stop farming immediately! Use what time remains to give them some training. Edward, this is a real war, not a one-on-one duel at the Knight Academy. If you lose a duel, you merely spend a few days recovering from your injuries. But if we lose this war, we will lose everything!"

Looking at Edward, Baron Connor rose to his feet and said with utmost seriousness, "We must use every means possible to increase our chances of victory, even if it means sacrificing every farmer in the territory!"

"Yes, Father!" Edward put away the contempt on his face and nodded solemnly.

"Willard, Morris, you will be responsible for training those untrained farmers. Within one month, make sure they can at least form something resembling a proper formation," Baron Connor ordered the two guard knights who had followed him for many years.

"Yes, my lord!" The two knights stood and struck their fists to their chests.

Zhou Ming, in the castle, quickly noticed the unusual atmosphere.

Groups of farmers put down their farm tools and were gathered at the Training Ground before the castle. Each was issued a brand-new spear and a thick hardwood shield. Under the personal command of two knights, they trained with great enthusiasm in formation marching, spear thrusting, and defense against arrows.

Even Brunode, the steward renowned for his stinginess, had done something unprecedented: he ordered the cook to prepare whole pots of fragrant beef and mutton, soft, golden-brown oat bread, as well as large quantities of jerky, cheese, eggs, and other provisions to restore the strength of these farmers training so hard. They received such meals every day.

During breaks in training, Brunode walked among the farmers and shouted, "Practice with those spears properly! The baron said that on the battlefield, killing one farmer earns fifty silver coins, killing one mercenary earns one gold coin, and if you can kill a knight, you will receive fifty gold coins! Do your best! Whoever renders merit, the baron will certainly not treat you poorly!"

Upon hearing those tempting words, aside from some young men whose eyes lit up as they asked, "Is that true?" and "Are the rewards really that high?" before secretly resolving to kill several enemies, most of the farmers remained indifferent, as though it had nothing to do with them.

Watching silently from the side, Zhou Ming thought to himself, Other than those few young men dazzled by the rewards, what these farmers care about most in this war is probably how to stay alive on the battlefield, isn't it?

Then he looked at the nine knights training intensely in the castle's Training Ground, as well as the more than one hundred mercenaries Baron Connor had hired at great expense, who had only arrived at the castle yesterday and were practicing with their weapons nearby. Zhou Ming guessed that these well-equipped, fierce-looking mercenaries—even with quite a few barbarian savages among them—would have no trouble fighting a winning battle. But if they were expected to risk their lives and fight a powerful enemy to the bitter end, that was probably absolutely impossible.

"In other words, the only people Glan Territory can truly rely on right now are these hundred-odd knights and mercenaries. As for the more than one thousand farmers training outside the castle, they are probably just there to block attacks, serve as cannon fodder, and wear down the enemy knights..."

Zhou Ming could not help shuddering. Fortunately, he had become little Donny's servant. Otherwise, if he had to go to the battlefield as well, his fate would be impossible to predict.

"Ryan, the baron just said that some of the strong servants in the castle need to join the training too. You are so healthy—come fight on the battlefield with us!"

Edward's knight attendant—Baum, the fat man—had appeared behind him at some point, looking at him with a malicious grin.

Zhou Ming's heart skipped a beat. He stepped forward and said in a low voice, "Lord Baum, my chest was injured by a Black Bear last year. It still has not fully healed..."

"It has been over a year. How could it possibly not be healed? Stop making excuses, Ryan! The baron does not keep you here so you can eat and drink for free all day! It is time for you to serve the baron. I already spoke to the baron just now. He said that since you have such willingness, you can serve as an auxiliary soldier and help transport provisions... Surely you can manage such a small task, can't you?" Baum said in an unhappy, pompous tone.

"I can. Of course I can."

Zhou Ming forced the words out through gritted teeth. That damned Baum was actually trying to set him up!

But even if he ran to explain himself to Baron Connor now, he would leave an extremely bad impression in the baron's mind... He could only swallow the insult.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Watching Zhou Ming's retreating figure, Baum laughed wildly to himself. Ryan, come to the battlefield with us. I will have Young Master Edward place you at the very front of the battlefield. Once you die, that delicate and lovely little sister of yours will be taken care of by me, Baum. Of course, I have also told Young Master Edward that Alice's first night should be saved for him to enjoy first...