Sunlight cast a golden glow over the fortress walls. James, clad in heavy armor, led several of his core officers on a steady patrol along the battlements.
This had become a habit of his lately—whether there was fighting or not, he personally climbed the walls at least five times a day to ensure he had a complete grasp of the situation.
Although many had tried to dissuade him from such frequent inspections, James always brushed them off with a few deft words.
Fortunately, the battle had only just begun, and the enemy had yet to display the strength needed to pose a serious threat to the defenses.
Thus, everyone could only tacitly accept his actions for the time being.
The atmosphere atop the walls was solemn and tense. All soldiers stood ready, swiftly taking up their positions and remaining on high alert.
Their movements were uniform and disciplined. In particular, the soldiers operating the heavy crossbows were fully focused on checking every detail of their weapons and equipment, ensuring they were in optimal fighting condition.
Meanwhile, soldiers from the supporting units bustled about without pause. Some continuously carried bundles of sharp arrows to the crenellations, while others carefully moved wooden crates packed with all manner of supplies to designated positions...
The entire scene resembled a precisely operating military machine, every link working closely together in orderly accordance with standard wartime procedures.
On a whim, James pulled over an ordinary crossbowman and asked directly, "So, was this morning's battle tiring?"
The crossbowman naturally recognized that his regimental commander was speaking to him. He hurriedly saluted, then answered with a slight stammer, "Regimental Commander, sir—oh, no, Viscount James, sir!
This morning's battle wasn't tiring at all. Now that we have Cocking Devices, we no longer need to do the most physically exhausting