Preparing for War

Hert bit into a flatbread made from fine wheat flour, and his eyes welled up slightly—how long had it been since he'd eaten this? Ever since leaving the Orc Kingdom, the Centaurs hadn't had much choice in their diet; they'd almost forgotten the taste of their favorite fine wheat flour.

"How long do you think it will take for the enemy to reach High Mountain Keep?" Richard used a spoon to loosen some corned beef, then scraped a spoonful of jam, put both into the flatbread, and took a big bite.

"It definitely won't be quick," Hert scoffed. "Wilderness folk are all scoundrels who only take advantage and never suffer losses. Just organizing military provisions will take at least a few days of squabbling. I'd say at least ten days from now."

Annie breathed a sigh of relief. Ten days was enough time for the guild's reinforcements to arrive, allowing for a calm withdrawal. She was a merchant; getting inexplicably caught in a war wasn't in her best interest. She was also a woman and couldn't bear to put her heavily depleted guards through another trial.

"They are indeed a ragtag bunch, but High Mountain Keep cannot relax its vigilance by underestimating the enemy. Since we know a fight is inevitable, we'll double the sentries starting today. The warriors will rest in shifts and maintain combat readiness," Richard said.

"Your wisdom is evident, my lord," Hert offered a timely compliment.

"To be honest, I've wanted to beat them up for a long time; I just hadn't found the opportunity. And now they dare to gather and deliver themselves right to my doorstep? Perfect, I'll take care of them all at once, hahaha!" Richard threw his head back and laughed three times.

Gunther stacked three flatbreads into a pile, took one big bite that finished half of them, and was so startled he nearly choked, rolling his eyes. He quickly grabbed his mug of ale and chugged it down.

"Oh, right, Hert, what weapons are your Centaurs good at?"

"My lord, Centaurs are all excellent archers. We can shoot an arrow into a rabbit's eye from a hundred paces away," Hert rubbed his hands. "However, bows and arrows are very delicate weapons. Our clan has been away from our homeland for a long time, and we don't have many usable war bows now."

"Your clan… wait a minute." Richard suddenly noticed a blind spot. "It's impossible for your clan to only have adult warriors, right? Where are the elderly, young, and women?"

The twenty-one Centaurs who had joined High Mountain Keep were all adult males, which didn't fit the age and gender composition a tribe should have.

"Them?" Hert blinked twice, looking especially innocent. "They travel slower, and they're herding a lot of livestock, so it'll probably take them a few more days to arrive."

Richard looked at Hert's honest face and suddenly understood—this guy was trying to hedge his bets!

If Richard defeated the native coalition, Hert could naturally bring the rest of his tribe into High Mountain Keep. But if the native coalition crushed Richard, it would be easy for Hert to flee with a few young warriors, since they had four legs!

Who would have thought? In this day and age, who was truly dumber than whom?

He looked like a simpleton, but he had more tricks up his sleeve than a monkey, executing the principle of not putting all his eggs in one basket to perfection.

"Then remember to tell the sentries so there's no misunderstanding." Since they had come all this way to pledge their lives to him, Richard wasn't so petty that he couldn't tolerate this small bit of cunning.

"Miss Annie." He tapped the pine table with his finger, bringing the clearly distracted Half-Elf back to attention. "I'd like to know if your guild could lend High Mountain Keep a sum of five hundred gold coins."

Richard was now at the point where the more fleas you have, the less they itch; the more debt you have, the less you worry. He was completely resigned to his financial situation. Since he already owed fifteen hundred gold coins, borrowing another five hundred was no big deal.

The brilliance of borrowing money to develop an army, compared to borrowing money for gambling, was that you didn't have to worry about debt collectors because, I have an army.

"No problem, I can authorize five hundred gold coins."

Usury was also one of Voya Merchant Guild's core businesses, but Annie didn't mention interest at all. For now, the Half-Elf was under someone else's roof and had to bow her head.

"High Mountain Keep will forever be grateful for your generosity." Richard adopted a plausible noble tone and nodded his thanks.

After dinner, Richard reassured Hert with a pat on the chest that bows and arrows would be in stock soon, and instructed him to start training the Centaurs tomorrow to get their feel back. Then, he took the five hundred gold coins Annie had given him and went into his room.

The bows and arrows used by Centaurs differed slightly from the equipment of regular mounted archers.

The expensive longbow was widely recognized as the strongest bow in mainstream military equipment, famous for its long range and great power. Equipped with half-pound armor-piercing arrowheads, it could even shoot through a knight's plate armor from fifty paces away.

However, because they were on horseback and couldn't exert force as easily as on solid ground, human mounted archers couldn't use longbows. They had to settle for short cavalry bows, which had much shorter range and poorer accuracy. Contrary to many people's intuitive impressions, due to the equipment gap, mounted archers would suffer if they directly engaged infantry archers.

The flexibility of cavalry and the power of the longbow were like white roses and red roses for humans—a contradiction that could not be reconciled. To have one, you had to give up the other.

But this principle didn't apply to Centaurs; in this line of work, they were naturally blessed by the Creator. Due to their unique human-horse integrated body structure, Centaurs could shoot longbows while running, combining flexibility and power. They were more than a little bit stronger than ordinary mounted archers!

Opening the system panel, the heavy, gleaming gold coins instantly vanished without a trace, and at the same time, the shop balance showed an additional five hundred thousand Denar.

Yew Longbows for Centaurs, fifteen thousand Denar each, enough for twenty-one bows. Conical White-Feathered Arrows, eight hundred Denar per quiver, at least forty quivers.

What was a huge sum in the eyes of ordinary citizens was just enough to make a sound when arming an army, and half of it was gone in the blink of an eye. A famous general once said that war was burning money. Richard thought this was complete nonsense because burning money wouldn't burn that fast.

The pioneering work of High Mountain Keep was like a bottomless pit devouring gold, and the returns seemed far off for now.

Richard was disheartened for a long time. He originally thought being a lord meant endless castles, maids, and banquets with ladies and gentlemen. In reality, he hadn't seen any of that; all he had was endless worries and endless debt. It was better to be a bandit and make money.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. He kicked over the empty gold coin box and collapsed onto the bed to sleep.

The next morning.

Yew Longbows were distributed to the Centaurs, and Hert began training his clansmen with great enthusiasm.

Richard observed their practice. They were indeed a famous tribe of archers; even the most awkward dozen Centaur herdsmen, once they got their feel back, could hit a bowl-sized wooden stake fifty paces away while running at full speed.

An expert knows the ropes. This level was far better than the so-called "hitting a bullseye from a hundred paces." The skill of human elite archers, in the eyes of Centaurs, probably only amounted to that of amateur enthusiasts.