After this defeat, Harald's strength was greatly diminished, and morale sank low.
Carnford could have kept up military pressure by controlling the grain-producing regions around Golden City, coordinating with the containment on other fronts, and gradually dragged the Sauron Kingdom into an abyss of slow blood loss and death.
There was no need to risk a potentially costly decisive battle deep within unknown enemy territory.
Yet Harald clearly had no intention of following Karl's script of "slowly nibbling away."
When fear reached its utmost limit, it bred reckless fury and madness.
Harald had clearly reached that tipping point.
As a king who had ruled the northern border for many years, he understood better than anyone that even if he barely held Golden City, it had already lost all strategic value.
The spring planting had been utterly devastated, the granaries stood empty, and morale had collapsed.
By the time autumn came, with fat horses under a high sky, Carnford's recovered and mobilized forces would only strike north with even greater strength than before. By then, he would have no power left to turn the tide.
In his despair, a mad and resolute thought took root in his heart and grew.
Only by staking everything on a decisive field battle, utterly crushing—or even annihilating—Karl's Main Corps could he reverse this collapsing defeat in one stroke and win Sauron its final chance at survival.
Cowering behind city walls meant a slow death. Only a decisive battle offered a faint, slender hope.
Five days later, Karl personally led the main corps from the southern front and arrived in mighty formation beneath Golden City.
The vast encampment was like a forest of steel, encircling the prosperous city on three sides.
Karl did not rush into a full assault. Instead, he launched several cautious yet efficient