Sealing Off the Front Line

As the surrendered officials of the Broomflower Flower Clan, who had been filled with fear and anxiety just moments before, but were now moved to tears of gratitude for the recognition and future they had promised, bowed and withdrew after pledging their loyalty, disappeared outside the hall, the heavy atmosphere in the hall eased slightly.

Svein, who had been standing silently beside Harald, finally stepped forward, his face filled with doubt, and asked in a low voice, "Brother, keeping these spineless cowards around like this, even letting them participate in politics... can their loyalty really be relied upon?"

"Right now, they're just trying to survive, so they'll say whatever sounds nice. Who knows what bad intentions they might be up to? If the situation changes in the future, who can guarantee they won't turn around and bite us!"

Upon hearing this, Harald's deliberately maintained amiable expression vanished instantly, replaced by his usual cold and profound demeanor.

He picked up a glass of cloudy ale, took a sip, and his sharp gaze swept across the empty hallway. A cold, undisguised contempt curled at the corner of his lips.

"Svein, you overestimate them. These people may be well-read, but their backbone has long been broken by the corrupt court of the Broomflower and our swords. They are used to kneeling to survive and have long forgotten how to stand up. Loyalty? To them, it's just a matter of who offers the fatter bones and the harsher the whip."

He set down his wine glass, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest of the stone chair covered with bearskin, his tone exuding an air of absolute confidence. "Rest assured, important positions of real power, especially military command, will naturally remain firmly in the hands of us Sauron."

"They were given nominal or deputy positions such as clerks, advisors, and managers of finances and craftsmen. They could offer advice and handle tedious administrative tasks, but the power to make final decisions and deploy troops would never be given to them."

He paused, a shrewd calculation flashing in his eyes. "Besides, praising them and giving them generous treatment is itself a show for the other surrendered officials and those conquered subjects—those who submit to me will prosper."

"As long as we maintain our dominance and continue to win, they will be the most docile and useful dogs. Once we show signs of weakness... Hmph, the first to pounce and tear us apart will inevitably be these spineless opportunists. However, that day will never come."

After listening to his brother's analysis, Svein nodded thoughtfully, the doubt on his face lessening slightly.

He understood that his elder brother was using minimal cost to gain the governance capabilities that the Sauron Tribe desperately needed most—a pragmatic and ruthless power tactic.

Harald then changed the subject, saying, "We're consolidating our strength, digesting our victory... So what about Carnford? Right now, they're certainly doing the same thing, no, they're only more eager and more frantic to recover, to become stronger."

"Our soldiers still carry the shadow of fear when they think of Carnford and that fire. If we were to immediately launch a large-scale assault on that fortress, which has just been strengthened with the blood and flesh of our compatriots, our chances of victory would be slim, and our morale would be low."

He shook his head, answering his own question, "No, now is not the time. A direct assault will only cause us to bleed more, deepen this fear, and may even lead to another defeat, shaking our very foundation in the Northern Territory."

However, he then changed the subject. "But we absolutely cannot just stand by and watch that cancer of Carnford recover and swell day by day right under our noses, on the land we just looted, where the smoke of war still lingers."

"If we let this go unchecked out of fear this year, Lord Karl will only build the walls higher and train the army stronger next year. By then, the price we'll have to pay to remove this thorn in our side could be ten times what we have now."

He spread a map of the Northern Territory on the long table, pointed to the mark of Carnford on the map, and then pointed outward, drawing an irregular semicircle that encompassed a large area of Carnford to the east, north, and west.

"Svein, you set off immediately, taking the men and supplies I've given you. Split up and carry out my orders!"

His finger first pointed to a marker about two days' journey northeast of Carnford: "Golden City. The garrison here was recently redeployed and is now extremely weak. Take the first group of men and go immediately to replenish the troops, restore the defenses, and deter any potential border Lord who might be tempted to make a move."

Then, he moved his finger westward, pointing to another marker near the river. "The Twin River City, a crucial point on the waterways and land routes northwest of Carnford, controlling access to further inland areas and parts of our rear. Strengthen the forces here, build fortifications, and make it a choke point to Carnford's westward expansion."

Finally, his finger landed heavily on a fortress symbol southwest of Carnford, a slightly worn mark that seemed to have been abandoned for a long time. "Tyrol Fortress! This is the key of key!"

"This fortress was breached and completely destroyed by the Former King at great cost more than a decade ago. It was located on the vital passage from Carnford to the prosperous southwestern peninsula. I thought it was a pile of useless ruins, forgotten by history... but unexpectedly, today, it will come in handy again."

He leaned forward, staring at Svein, and ordered, word by word. "You will personally take charge here. Immediately select the most capable craftsmen, the most hardworking slaves, and enough soldiers from all departments and among the slaves."

"I want you to restore Tyrol Fortress to its basic functions in the shortest possible time, at any cost. It doesn't need to be as fortified as Carnford, but it should at least be able to garrison an army and control the passage."

"Before that cunning Karl realizes the strategic value of this fortress and seizes or destroys it, we must lock down Tyrol again and completely block Carnford's path to the southwest."

After explaining the reinforcement and repair orders for these three key strongholds, Harald's finger didn't stop. Instead, he drew several circles on the map around the complex terrain representing the vast mountains, swamps, and valleys surrounding Carnford.

"Furthermore," he added, "Establish several secret, small outposts and supply points between these three outposts, in all the mountains, valleys, and areas under our control around Carnford. These don't require large-scale garrisons, but they must be able to conceal troops, store provisions, and transmit messages."

"We can distribute our surplus, outdated, or captured weapons to the scattered tribes, hunters, and even mountain people who have a long-standing feud with the Goldspur living in these forests."

"Arm them, and tell them that from this day forward, any farmer, Broomflower, or scout who dares to cross the boundaries we have drawn and venture into the mountains to plunder game, timber, or minerals... shall be killed without exception."

He grinned, revealing a chilling smile, "A head of Goldspur, whether soldier or civilian, whoever brings it to any outpost, I'll reward with a Silver coin."

"If they have the ability to capture them alive and take them back to be enslaved, I don't care. I just want to see the result: to turn all the forests around Carnford into bottomless pits that devour the lives of the Goldspur."

"I want to make them afraid to send out small teams easily, afraid to venture deep into the mountains to obtain resources, and make them feel at all times that there are eyes watching them in the dark, and knives stabbing them from behind the trees. I want to use fear and blood to weave a big net to trap Carnford inside, making it unable to breathe and unable to develop!"

"Drain their energy, delay their recovery, block their escape routes, and exhaust them with endless harassment!"

Harald straightened up and gave his final summary, a definitive confirmation of Svein's orders. "Until we have amassed sufficient strength and found a sure-fire way to win, this is our strategy for Carnford: not a frontal assault, but a comprehensive strangulation and blockade! Svein, do you understand?"

Svein was already deeply moved, his eyes gleaming with admiration for the ruthlessness and ingenuity of the vicious plan.

He pounded his chest, his voice loud and firm. "Understood! Brother! I'll set off immediately. The reinforcement of Golden City and the Twin River City, the repair of Tyrol Fortress, the establishment of mountain strongholds and the arming of the mountain people—all must be completed as quickly as possible! We will not allow Carnford any chance to catch its breath and grow stronger!"

"Go!" Harald waved his hand, saying no more.

Svein accepted the order, bowed again, then turned and strode out of the noisy hall to gather his men and prepare to execute the strategy aimed at slowly strangling Carnford through blockade, harassment, and terror.