I Surrender

Thorsten fell silent, his brow furrowed, his gaze lowered, as if weighing the weight of each word in the terms, and the humiliation and hope for survival they represented.

Karl didn't urge him; he simply stood quietly opposite him, calmly watching him and patiently waiting.

A mountain breeze blew by, stirring up some dust, and the atmosphere was so heavy it seemed like it could be wrung out of water.

After what seemed like an eternity, Thorsten finally took a deep breath.

He raised his head, looking at Karl with a complicated expression, and said in a low, hoarse voice, "Your Excellency... before making a final decision, I have a request. I want to see your territory with my own eyes, to see Carnford. I need to be responsible for my soldiers and confirm whether the place where they will entrust their lives is truly worthwhile."

Upon hearing this, Karl's face showed a look of astonishment.

He turned slightly to the side and gestured for me to enter. "Of course, seeing is believing, this is a sign of caution. Please follow me."

A nearby Sauron soldier immediately whispered a warning, "Commander! Be careful, it might be a trap!"

Thorsten shook his head, his gaze sweeping over Karl and the disciplined, well-equipped guards behind him. He smiled wryly and said, "If he wanted to kill us, he would have already surrounded this place. Why bother? Let's go."

He could see that the other side was indeed sincere in accepting surrender, but also possessed an undeniable degree of strength.

Soon, Thorsten, accompanied by Karl and the guards, set foot on Carnford's territory for the first time.

Before even passing through the outer city wall that was under construction, his gaze was drawn to the majestic stone castle on the mountainside in the distance.

The Broomflower Royal Standard and the flag of the Schmidt Family fluttered in the wind atop the castle tower, appearing particularly majestic and sturdy in the autumn sunlight.

The mere existence of this castle conveys an unshakeable sense of power.

At the foot of the city wall, there was a huge construction site bustling with activity.

Thousands of workers are busy digging foundations, moving stones, and ramming earthen walls.

The shouts, the hammering, and the rolling wheels mingled together, brimming with vibrant life and power.

The workers were all strong, quick, obedient, and orderly.

Thorsten could tell at a glance that these people were no ordinary laborers; they were the best soldiers in the making when they took up arms!

This potential military force secretly alarmed him.

Passing through the nascent breach in the city wall, the scene inside astonished Thorsten even more.

What greeted his eyes was not the chaos, dilapidation, and tension he had imagined common at border outposts, but rather a scene of order and vitality.

In the tidy residential area, dozens of sturdy stone houses are arranged in neat rows, and the streets, though simple, are kept very clean.

In the distant artisan quarter, the furnaces roared, and the clanging of metal filled the air as the artisans focused intently on their work.

Further away, there are vast, neatly planned, and thriving farmlands, with golden ripples of wheat shimmering in the breeze and lush, verdant pea vines.

Although the people were simply dressed, most of them had busy and fulfilled expressions on their faces. They did not show much fear of war, but were instead full of hope for rebuilding their homes.

All of this was a far cry from the Sauron Tribe he knew, a place rife with plunder and turmoil, and from the dilapidated and rudimentary stronghold he had previously occupied in Cyril!

What is being demonstrated here is a strong organizational capacity and a vibrant, thriving vitality.

Just as he was immersed in the scene, the sound of orderly and heavy hooves suddenly came from the other end of the street.

Fifty cavalrymen, fully armored and wielding lances or sabers, marched in with a steady, disciplined formation, like an iron torrent.

The sunlight shone on their armor and weapons, reflecting a cold, sharp light.

The leading officer was none other than Lyon von Hawke!

This cavalry force was almost entirely composed of remnants of the Northern Territory who had a deep-seated blood feud with the Sauron.

When they saw Thorsten, the Sauron commander, their eyes instantly flashed with undisguised hatred and murderous intent!

The icy gaze sliced across Thorsten's skin like a blade, sending a chill down his spine.

If Karl hadn't been there, and if he hadn't been given a strict order beforehand, Thorsten had no doubt that these enraged knights would have rushed up and torn him to pieces immediately!

His gaze was especially fixed on Lyon, who was in the lead.

He recognized the face!

It was at Ashbourne that the Goldfinch Cavalry commander, wounded in the abdomen after the first charge, still frantically regrouped his troops and launched a second desperate charge!

At that moment, Lyon's hair was disheveled, his face was covered in blood and madness, and he even held a broken piece of a lance in his hand...

That fearless, god-like figure remains deeply etched in Thorsten's memory, still sending shivers down his spine.

At that moment, Lyon's gaze also swept coldly over Thorsten. Although he made no further move, the coldness and oppressiveness in his eyes were more threatening than any words.

The last shred of hope and hesitation in Thorsten's heart was shattered at this moment.

He realized that this was no accidental encounter, but a deliberate demonstration arranged by Karl von Schmidt!

Show him in a stark way that Carnford not only has a prosperous foundation and a tight organization, but also a well-trained, highly motivated, and hateful elite force!

Resistance is futile, and bluffing is laughable.

They could either accept the other side's harsh but hopeful surrender terms and gain protection, or return to lead their remaining troops to wait in the wilderness to be crushed by Harald's army or an enemy like the one before them.

The answer is self-evident.

He slowly turned around to face Karl, all his previous hesitation, resentment, and feigned bravado vanished.

He bowed his head deeply and, in the most respectful possible tone, spoke through the translator in a dry but clear voice:

"Lord Karl von Schmidt, I, Thorsten, Vanguard Camp battalion of the Sauron Sword Corps, on behalf of all my officers and soldiers... accept your terms, we... surrender."

He raised his head, looking at Karl with a complicated expression, and with a final plea. "I hope... I hope you will keep your promise, sir."

Karl looked at Thorsten, who had completely surrendered, and a smile of complete control appeared on his face.

He nodded, his tone solemn. "I swear on the honor of the Schmidt Family, as long as you keep your promises and sincerely submit, I will abide by the agreement and grant you a place to live and the treatment you deserve. Welcome to Carnford, Thorsten... Company Commander."

The new title of "Company Commander" marked a turning point in the fate of Thorsten and his men.