Sauron's Scheme, Pursuit
Frosgard, north of the city.
Unlike the desolate and frigid landscape typical of the Northern Territory, this large Shantytown Area appears unusually "lively".
Wisps of smoke rose from the low, simple shacks, the smoke from countless makeshift stoves used in the forging of weapons.
The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning coal and the distinctive odor of forging metal, while a dense, dull clanging sound emanated from each of the shacks, never ceasing.
This is the area where the Sauron's blacksmiths gathered.
The busy craftsmen inside were mostly people captured from the Goldflower Kingdom.
Their task was to forge and repair weapons and armor for the Sauron Barbarians, day after day.
In return, the Sauron offered them only a small amount of food to help them survive the harsh cold and excessive labor, and a meager sense of "safety" in this chaotic region.
Frosgard, once the last stronghold of the Goldflower Kingdom in the Northern Territory, fell to the Sauron four years ago.
Its fall marked the complete loss of control the Broomflower had over the vast Northern Territory.
From then on, the Goldflower Kingdom could only retreat to key strongholds such as Fran City, Blackstone Pass, and Worton Fort, building defensive lines and falling into a passive defensive predicament.
A menacing black wolf banner moved along the Official road outside Frosgard.
Below the banner was a troop of elite Sauron Cavalry.
Along the way, whether they were ragged, Broomflower -faced slaves or ordinary Sauron or Skarn civilians, upon seeing this banner, they all hurriedly knelt down, kowtowed deeply, and dared not show the slightest disrespect.
Harald sat astride a magnificent black horse, seemingly oblivious to the kneeling worshippers along the way.
He was tall, his face etched with the marks of time, and his eyes were sharp as a hawk's, carrying a coldness and majesty of someone who had long held a high position.
Last year's southward raids yielded far more results than expected.
Large quantities of gold, silver, and cloth were looted. More importantly, over ten thousand people from the Broomflower tribe were driven to the Northern Territory.
Those who survived the harsh environment and long journeys were mostly young and strong laborers, greatly filling the manpower gap in the Sauron Tribe.
This resounding victory brought Harald's personal prestige and power to an unprecedented peak.
He had even begun to seriously consider formally establishing a kingdom and declaring himself emperor in this city of Broomflower, a symbol of conquest, transforming the loose tribal alliance into a true empire.
The only thing that slightly displeased him was that, not long after his army withdrew, the King of the Broomflower couldn't wait to send a large number of so-called "pioneer nobles" into the Northern Territory.
He originally thought they were just a bunch of useless trash who came to their deaths, but he didn't expect them to actually win a small victory in the Icewater Creek.
They routed a small squad of his relatively weaker Sword Corps, killing more than thirty men and even taking the heads of the fallen soldiers with them.
The King used this to publicize it extensively in the Royal Capital, which offended him.
However, overall, last year was still a good year.
A new season of raiding is about to begin, and even more wealth and slaves await his warriors.
Before they knew it, the procession had passed through the towering gates of Frosgard and entered the city.
Just as Harald was about to head to the Governor's Office, the Lord's Hall which he had requisitioned as his command post, several cavalrymen came galloping in from outside the city, kicking up dust. At the head of the column, it seemed that a wounded man was being carried.
The cavalry charged forward, and he hurriedly dismounted, placing his hand on his chest in salute.
The people behind helped the wounded soldier down. He was a Skarn people with several broken arrows stuck in his back, his leather armor torn, and his body covered in blood.
"Great leader!" the lead cavalryman reported breathlessly, his voice filled with panic, "It's terrible! A troop of Goldspur cavalry attacked our temporary pasture in the Black Forest Valley yesterday!"
"There were probably twenty or thirty of them, most of them carrying muskets that smoked and thundered, and their tactics were cunning! There was also a woman, a mounted archer! Her riding skills were as fast as the wind, and her archery accuracy was like she was possessed by a demon! Our men were still on horseback when she shot them through the throat from a distance! Several brave brothers fell like that, we couldn't even get close!"
He swallowed hard and continued, "They also surrounded us from behind the valley, blocking our retreat. Skarn's squad guarding the ranch was completely scattered, and our brothers suffered heavy casualties... They, they stole all the hundreds of cattle and sheep we left there to fatten up!"
Upon hearing this, Harald's bronze face did not display the expected rage; instead, a barely perceptible glint flashed in his eyes.
The livestock in the Black Forest Valley were left behind by the Horse Corps that he had specifically ordered to assemble on the western front in preparation for an attack on Blackstone Pass.
They originally planned to let the livestock fatten up in the autumn when the grass was lush, in order to prepare for military supplies, but they never expected that the Goldspur would discover them.
The attackers were few in number and sounded like an enemy reconnaissance team.
But reconnaissance teams usually wouldn't dare to be so bold, not only launching an attack but also daring to seize such a large number of livestock...
He immediately thought of Thorsten, the former Battle Group Commander of the Sword Corps, who had been demoted a few months earlier for his defeat at Icewater Creek.
His Vanguard Camp happened to be idle near Frosgard.
"Where are Thorsten and his Vanguard Camp now?" Harald's voice was calm and even, revealing no emotion.
"Reporting to the chieftain, Lord Thorsten and his troops are awaiting orders at the Southern Camp."
"Very well," Harald's lips curled into a cold smile. "Pass on my order: Thorsten is to immediately lead his entire Vanguard Camp cavalry to pursue this audacious Broomflower Rat!"
"Tell him this is my chance to redeem him! He must catch up with them, retrieve every single one of our livestock, and bring back the heads of all the Goldspur to me! If he fails... he knows the consequences."
"Yes, sir!" the messenger shouted in response, then turned and ran off.
Harald watched the messenger's departing figure, his eyes deep in thought.
Sending Thorsten would serve several purposes: it would put pressure on the increasingly arrogant Horse Corps, provide an opportunity to assess the capabilities of the Broomflower reconnaissance team, and, more importantly, regardless of Thorsten's success or failure, would help to balance the delicate power dynamics among the eight legions.
In particular, it could take the opportunity to strengthen the relatively weaker but more loyal Sword Corps.