The Carnford Army's Main Corps on the southern front, a vast marching column, came to an emergency halt in a sheltered mountain valley after receiving the urgent report carried by the second wave of messengers Roderick had sent.
A crude command tent was swiftly erected, yet the atmosphere within was far more biting and grave than the howling North Wind outside.
A huge sheepskin map of the southern Northern Territory lay spread across a makeshift wooden table, its light and shadow shifting beneath several wind lamps.
Karl stood before the map, both hands braced on the table's edge, his body leaning slightly forward. His gaze was nailed to the location marked with a heavy red circle—the abandoned fort held by Roderick's Vanguard Camp.
Lyon stood at one side of the map, a thin wooden pointer in hand as he indicated that area. His voice was slightly shrill with urgency. "My lord, Roderick's second urgent report confirms that the Sauron Army has used wolf smoke signals to gather in force. Their strength is estimated at over ten thousand, and judging by the banners, it is very likely that Harald's entire Main Corps has arrived!"
"They are besieging Roderick's men with an obvious purpose! Now that the enemy's main force has revealed itself here, we cannot stand by and watch the vanguard be wiped out! In my view, this is precisely the perfect chance to fight Harald in a decisive battle! Right here, we settle who is stronger! The Carnford Army must never abandon comrades who have shed blood beside us!"
His words rang with absolute certainty, carrying the ferocity of a cavalry commander and the loyalty he held for his fellow soldiers. Low voices of agreement rose throughout the tent. Battle fever flared in the eyes of many young staff officers