Scrutiny

As night fell, the Sauron camp was brightly lit, but the light could not dispel the heavy and oppressive atmosphere that permeated the air.

From the edge of the camp, towards the specially designated slave quarters, faint, suppressed groans of pain and occasional cries of agony drifted through the cold night wind, sending chills down one's spine.

The Sauron' already underdeveloped medical system meant they would hardly waste any precious resources on these slaves, who were considered expendable commodities.

The injured can only lie on the cold ground, waiting in endless pain for their injuries to heal or for them to slowly breathe their last in the bitter cold.

Outside the central command tent, Harald stood alone on a slightly elevated earthen slope, his thick fur cloak offering little protection against the biting chill of the Northern Territory winter night.

He gazed silently into the distance.

In the cool moonlight and the reflection of the snow, the majestic outline of Carnford Mountain was clearly visible, with the castle atop it resembling a huge, silent black monster, perched at the end of the only passage, exuding a chilling aura.

He gazed at the narrow passageway, which had swallowed countless lives during the day and was now blocked by boulders and corpses, and at the imposing fortresses faintly visible in the darkness further away. He remained silent for a long time, only his tightly pursed lips and the flickering flame in his deep eyes revealing the turmoil in his heart.

A group of high-ranking Sauron officers stood silently behind him, none daring to utter a sound.

Although they had some pre-battle assessment of the strength of Carnford's defenses, the result of the completely one-sided, massacre-like probing attack during the day still greatly shocked them.

The driven slaves didn't even get close to the edge of the enemy's city walls before being wiped out by the defenders' precise and efficient firepower.

The range, accuracy, and terrifyingly calm firing rhythm of the enemy's muskets far exceeded their previous understanding of the Broomflower army.

The rather short-tempered Asgeir finally broke the silence, his voice tinged with lingering fear and resentment. "Brother, this Carnford is a real iron porcupine! Just this one path we saw today is so tough to crack, who knows how many other insidious schemes Karl has laid behind it all!"

"Just the ones I can name include stray arrows, barbed wire, traps, rakes, sharpened stakes, and Fire oil... not to mention, there are three fire-breathing and ice-spitting mages who haven't even shown up yet!"

The more composed and meticulous Svein chimed in, his tone filled with helplessness. "The terrain is the biggest problem. I personally led a team to survey it carefully. The other three sides of Carnford Mountain are almost vertical cliffs, too difficult for monkeys to climb, making it impossible to deploy troops."

"This is the only way we can go. Not to mention they've blocked the road with huge rocks. For the next attack, we'll have to use a lot of corpses to fill in the steps before we can pave a path for our advance."

He paused, looked at Harald, and said in a low voice, "Brother, although we have 100,000 slaves at our disposal, we can't use them like this. Today's losses have already drawn criticism from the various legions."

Harald's eyes flickered in the dancing torchlight.

Svein and Asgeir's words, like cold awls, pierced through his forced composure and precisely struck at the deepest anxieties in his heart.

This path of attack, paved with blood and flesh, and Carnford's far more tenacious resistance than expected, were indeed gradually eroding his steely will.

In his past battles, Carnford was not an unconquered fortress.

The fortress changed hands three times during his father's time and even in the battles he participated in early in his life.

Although each breakthrough came at a considerable cost, none were as painful as this one, as if gnawing on a barbed anvil, breaking several teeth and bleeding profusely with every inch of progress.

This suddenly appearing Karl von Schmidt was like a devil's craftsman, transforming Carnford into a terrifying hedgehog in a short period of time!

A surge of anger, a mixture of frustration and intense curiosity, welled up within him. He couldn't help but ask, as if asking someone else, yet also as if asking himself, "Where on earth did this Karl von Schmidt come from? Why is his military strategy so cunning and treacherous!"

Beside him, a former Broomflower official who had long since surrendered to Sauron and was now cautiously attending to him immediately bowed and replied in a fawning tone, "Reporting to the Great Chieftain, Karl von Schmidt is the seventh son of Duke Schmidt of the Franklin Territory in the south of the Plantagenet Goldflower Kingdom. It is said that he was sent to this harsh land because of the King's Northern Border Reclamation Order."

"Duke Schmidt? The one from Franklin?" Harald frowned, immediately recalling how, during this southward raid, his army had been halted by the Franklin border's strong defenses and fierce resistance, ultimately forcing them to turn back.

He snorted coldly, his tone complex, "Hmph, so it's his son... No wonder, no wonder! It seems that father and son are truly alike in their tenacity when it comes to defense!"

He couldn't help but think of the same troublesome defensive line in the south, and his evaluation of Karl rose even higher, while his expression became even more serious.

The cold wind swirled snowflakes, ruffling the hair on his forehead; it was icy and biting, but not as heavy as the weight of his heart at that moment.

He was well aware of the predicament he faced. A direct assault on Carnford would inevitably be a costly war of attrition, built on blood and lives, with extremely low cost-effectiveness.

However, Harald also had his own deeper considerations; Carnford was no longer an ordinary border fortress.

It was a poisonous thorn driven deep into the territory of Sauron, extending northward from the Goldflower Kingdom beyond its formidable pass.

This suddenly appearing Lord Karl, with his incredible defensive methods and unwavering will, displayed a terrifying potential far exceeding his expectations.

Harald clearly realized that he had to eliminate this young man completely, at any cost, while he was still young and weak!

Otherwise, given time, if Karl establishes a firm foothold in Carnford and continues to accumulate power, this thorn will grow deeper and deeper, eventually becoming an insurmountable steel barrier on Sauron's southward march. At that point, removing it would cost ten or a hundred times more than it does now!

Besides, the arrow has already left the bowstring; how can it not be released?

Harald personally led the main force of the Sauron army to the city gates, drawing the attention of the entire Northern Territory.

If we retreat without a fight now, what will the entire army think?

How would the warriors of the Sauron tribes view their Great Chieftain? They would think that Harald was afraid of that brat named Karl! The seed of fear of Carnford's "invincibility" would be deeply planted in the heart of every Sauron warriors.

Once morale collapses, if Sauron army ever encounters the banner of Carnford again, they will likely be terrified before the battle even begins, and who will be willing to fight to the death?

In contrast, even if more blood is shed and more people die here, it is imperative to maintain the invincible "momentum" of Sauron army!

This momentum is the foundation upon which the Sauron Alliance is able to unite and conquer, far more important than the lives of thousands or even tens of thousands of slaves.

His gaze slowly swept over the various Corps Commander behind him, each with their own distinct expressions. These men, seemingly respectful, were in fact each harboring their own agendas, observing his resolve and courage.

Harald sneered inwardly, knowing that any hesitation at this moment would be magnified as cowardice.

He suddenly raised his voice. "Chiefs of all departments and Corps Commander, listen to my command! My Sauron army, since our ancestors rose up between the white mountains and black waters, traversing the Northern Territory, has never retreated without a fight, no matter how powerful the enemy we face!"

"In previous years, we could bypass Osric Fort, not because we couldn't attack it, but because it was pointless and only a waste of manpower! But today, Carnford has cut off our rear and threatened our flank. Moreover, the cunning general has made it a major threat to our Sauron forces. It is a place we must attack and a nail we must remove!"

He whirled around, his sharp gaze sweeping over the generals awaiting orders, his voice resolute and brooking no argument. "Order! All artisans in each corps are to be mobilized, working day and night to build me even stronger and larger Shield-carts!"

"Not the kind of useless shield that can only block arrows, but one that can withstand Rolling Stone and Logs! Most importantly, we need to install retractable, heavy ladders on top of the Shield-carts! For the next attack, the army must be able to use these ladders to directly cross that damned boulder blocking our way!"

Then, he looked at the tribal leaders who were eagerly waiting to share the spoils of war, and offered them an irresistible bait, which was also a powerful driving force:

"All soldiers in our army, regardless of whether they are from the Sauron main force, affiliated tribes, or even surrendered soldiers and slaves of the Broomflower tribe, whoever is the first to pass through the passageway and reach the foot of the city wall will be promoted two ranks, rewarded with a village of five hundred households, and two hundred Silver coin!"

"Whoever is the first to cross the moat or fill in the trench will be promoted three ranks, rewarded with two villages of a thousand households, five hundred Silver coin, and ten fine horses!"

"Whoever first scales the Carnford City and holds the breach!" Harald's voice rose to its highest point, his eyes blazing, "Regardless of their origins—whether Sauron warriors or a captive of the Broomflower —will be promoted four ranks and immediately appointed as Battle Group Commander, leading an army! Furthermore, they will be rewarded with five large villages of five thousand households each, and a thousand Silver coin!"

A generous reward will surely attract brave men, but Harald knew that a large reward alone was not enough to drive his army to their deaths.

His voice suddenly turned cold, filled with murderous intent. "Military law is merciless! Anyone who shrinks back, hesitates to advance, or deserts during an attack, regardless of their rank—whether Decurion, battalion commander, or Battle Group Commander Regiment Commander —will be executed without mercy! Their families and relatives will all be reduced to slavery, never to be freed!"

"Did you all hear me clearly?" Harald demanded sharply.

"We obey the Great Chieftain's command!" Svein and Asgeir were the first to respond, and the others followed suit. Regardless of what they were really thinking, they had to put on a good show for now.

Harald glanced one last time at Carnford, who stood like a behemoth in the darkness, then said nothing more and turned to walk toward the warm tent.

He knew that simply overwhelming them with force wouldn't work; he needed to supplement it with a more cunning mind and more tenacious patience.

He needs to re-evaluate his opponent, Karl, and Carnford, the city he has built into an iron fortress.