Sauron

On the wilderness about dozens of kilometers north of Fran City, a not-small Soren army was slowly advancing northward.

The convoy carried carts filled with grain, cloth, and various supplies plundered from within the passes. Mixed among them were many citizens of the Goldflower Kingdom, tied together with ropes, their faces numb.

However, compared to the truly triumphant Soren Battle Groups returning laden with spoils during the harsh winter, this convoy's haul seemed rather meager, and the atmosphere felt somewhat dull and oppressive.

Ragnar, a Soren cavalry scout, urged his short, sturdy northern warhorse and quickly approached the center of the army from the flank.

He came up to his leader, Thorsten, and reported, "Battle Group Leader, we've completely exited the Goldflower Kingdom's Great Wall defense line. That massive dark shadow to the east is Fran City."

Thorsten, mounted on an exceptionally majestic warhorse, was a Soren Battle Group Leader with a rugged face and a thick, bushy beard.

The Sauron adopted a policy of combining military and political authority, dividing their forces from top to bottom into Corps, Regiments, and Battle Groups.

A Battle Group consisted of about three hundred men, and a Regiment was made up of five Battle Groups, totaling nearly fifteen hundred men.

The Corps was the largest military unit. The Sauron had a total of eight Corps, which were:

Wolf Corps Bear Corps Tiger Corps Sparrow Corps Horse Corps Hound Corps Sword Corps Rain Corps

The names of the Corps had no special meaning; they were merely designations.

The Battle Group led by Thorsten belonged to the Sword Corps.

Thorsten merely grunted impatiently at the scout's report, his face so grim it looked like it could drip water.

His Battle Group had had terrible luck during this autumn's raid into the passes.

They were responsible for attacking Winsend City, a small town on the border. They had expected to capture it easily, but unexpectedly, the city's defenders were exceptionally tenacious, resisting for a full half-month!

His Battle Group suffered heavy losses in manpower and time during the siege. When they finally managed to breach the city, they discovered that the stored grain and important supplies within had long been depleted during the prolonged siege, leaving them with almost no decent spoils of war.

In a fit of rage, Thorsten ordered a massacre to vent his anger.

But after killing everyone, he regretted it immensely once he calmed down.

Not only did they gain little in terms of material wealth, but they had also killed off the very people they could have captured as slaves.

He had no way to explain this to the Corps Commander when he returned.

The thought of his Battle Group receiving the least share of spoils and slaves during the distribution in the spring, and possibly even being punished, made him incredibly agitated.

Ragnar, observing his leader's mood, saw that he was in a terrible state. His eyes darted, and he lowered his voice, saying, "Battle Group Leader, while scouting ahead earlier, I happened to capture a Goldflower farmer fleeing from the direction of Fran City. I managed to pry some information out of him..."

"What information?" Thorsten asked casually, showing little interest.

"He said that the day after tomorrow is when those newly appointed Northern Border Pioneer Lords of the Goldflower Kingdom will collectively depart from Fran City! You know, those good-for-nothing nobles they sent over. What kind of fighting strength can they possibly have? The soldiers they bring are mostly just for show. Perhaps... we could wait here for two more days?"

A hint of greed and cunning appeared on Ragnar's face. "After they leave the city and travel a certain distance, we can suddenly attack them and rob them thoroughly! Grain, supplies, and those noble young lords themselves are all valuable ransom! We might even capture quite a few new slaves! It would be just enough to fill the deficit from this raid into the passes, and we could even make a huge profit!"

Thorsten's originally grim eyes suddenly lit up!

That's right! How could he not have thought of that! Robbing those pampered, inexperienced Pioneer Lords would be much easier than attacking a fortified city! They were practically a moving herd of fat sheep!

Great risks were often accompanied by great rewards.

Although lingering for two more days would increase the risk of exposure, it was entirely worth a gamble compared to the potential gains!

The gloom on his face vanished completely, replaced by a fierce excitement, like a hungry wolf discovering prey.

"Excellent idea! Ragnar!" Thorsten slapped the scout's shoulder forcefully. "Relay my orders! The entire army will immediately leave the main road and enter the Black Forest to the west! March towards Fran City! Dispatch all reconnaissance cavalry to keep a close watch on movements from the direction of Fran City! Without my command, no one is allowed to light a fire or make any loud noises!"

"Yes! Battle Group Leader!" Ragnar excitedly accepted the order and left.

Soon, this once listless Soren army seemed to have been injected with a powerful stimulant. It quickly and silently turned, slipping into the dense, dark Black Forest to the west of the road like ghosts, beginning its advance towards Fran City.

The barbarian soldiers sharpened their weapons, their eyes rekindling with bloodlust and greed.

They were like hungry wolves lurking in the shadows, sharpening their claws and teeth, patiently and hungrily waiting for the unsuspecting "fat sheep" to leave their safe den and step into their carefully chosen hunting ground.

Thorsten stood at the edge of the forest, gazing in the direction of Fran City, a cruel sneer twisting his lips.

Young lords of the Goldflower Kingdom, you've arrived at the perfect time... your wealth and blood will be just what I need to make up for my losses!