Now, the tables had turned.
Eisenberg was the one besieged by the Sauron army in Eagle's Nest Fortress, the "turtle in the jar" in need of rescue, while Karl had received the Royal Decree and was leading troops to "rush to his aid."
"Rush to his aid?" Karl sneered inwardly. The icy North Wind cut across his cheeks, yet it could not scatter the cluster of dark flame deep in his eyes.
"Pass down the order!" he said without looking back to the messenger following close behind him, his voice calm and rippleless. "Inform Roland and Lyon that the army has only just set out, the baggage train is heavy, the weather is bitterly cold, and the soldiers are exhausted."
"To preserve our fighting strength, we need only march half a day each day. After noon, we are to find a suitable place to make camp. The soldiers must be given ample rest, the equipment must be maintained, and no one is to be greedy for merit and advance rashly. Each day's distance is to be governed by caution above all. For now... ten li."
"Ten li... each day?" The messenger froze, almost thinking he had heard wrong.
From Carnford to Fran City, the major town of the Northern Territory, with the newly built, broad official road aiding the march, a forced march could arrive in a day, and an ordinary march would take only two or three days at most. Ten li a day? At that speed... they were hardly faster than a turtle, were they?
"What? Did you not hear clearly?" Karl turned his head slightly, his gaze sweeping over, calm yet carrying unquestionable pressure.
"Yes! This subordinate understands! March half a day each day, ten li in distance, caution above all!" The messenger shuddered, immediately repeated the