The news that Golden City had changed hands with ease, along with the mountains of provisions seized there, was like the fiercest fuel poured onto the already soaring morale of the Carnford Army, driving it to a new boiling point.
The camp overflowed with optimism and excitement. Soldiers polished the captured Sauron scimitars, talked about Harald's bedraggled flight north, and gazed eagerly toward the north—toward Frosgard, seat of the Sauron Royal Court. It seemed that with one more push, they could ride the momentum and strike straight at the heart of the enemy.
This surging fighting spirit had truly infected Karl, their commander, as well.
He stood in the Council Chamber that had once belonged to Harald in Golden City, his finger tracing a path northward from Golden City across the map as he ran through every possible route of advance and scenario for an encounter battle.
The bitter victory Roderick's forces had bought with their lives was certainly painful, but it had also thoroughly broken Harald's back and placed the strategic initiative firmly in his own hands.
A long-lost sharpness—the daring and adventurous impulse of youth—stirred within his chest.
"If... if I seize this chance, while Harald has only just suffered defeat, his morale has collapsed, and his followers are divided, and pursue him at all costs in search of a decisive battle, perhaps I truly can finish it all in one stroke and put a complete end to the century-long threat on the Northern Territory!" The thought was deeply tempting.
More importantly, if he could swiftly deal with the Sauron in the north with thunderous force, then before those enemies in the Royal Capital—especially Empress Dowager Katerina—had time to react fully, he could quickly turn his army south and shift his strategic focus toward the potential threat from