Both Sides

"So, the Iron Islands are currently too busy dealing with their own problems, and their defensive strength has been greatly reduced by internal strife?" Harald finally spoke, his voice low and cold, without the slightest trace of emotion.

"Yes... yes, Great Chieftain!" The kneeling survivors hurriedly kowtowed. "They're killing each other! The casualties are horrendous! The ports have all been placed under martial law, and everyone's on edge!"

Harald nodded slightly and waved his hand. "Thanks for the effort. You may leave. Someone will provide you with food and lodging."

The three survivors acted as though they had been granted a pardon from death. After expressing their thanks profusely, they scrambled to their feet, bent over, and cautiously withdrew from the oppressive hall.

As soon as the survivors left, Harald's gaze swept toward Gron, the Corps Commander of the Hound Corps, seated beside the table. Gron's Hound Corps had been stationed in the Vilaya Mountains for years and knew the situations in Vilaya and the Iron Islands best. Harald said, "Gron, your Hound Corps is closest to the Iron Islands and most familiar with the situation there. Tell me your opinion."

The Corps Commander named Gron abruptly rose to his feet. "Great Chieftain! What is there to discuss? This is a once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity! Those strays from the Iron Islands have fallen into chaos on their own, and their strength has been greatly weakened!"

"Give the order, Great Chieftain! Provide me with enough ships and men, and I, Gron, will personally lead the troops to flatten those wretched islands. I'll twist Werner and Klein's heads off and give them to you as drinking cups!"

He waved his fists, his bloodthirsty excitement plain for all to see.

As soon as he finished speaking, another Corps Commander stood up. He was relatively thin,