Sending too few might get them wiped out. His own two sons had tried it—two elder brothers who couldn't beat one younger brother. Five thousand men, five thousand!
Afterward, they captured some deserters, but even after gathering them all together, there were fewer than two thousand.
They'd all run. Every last one of them!
So he couldn't deploy too few troops.
But deploying too many would affect a great many places as well.
The key was finding the most reasonable balance—enough to retake Sakir and force them to withdraw.
In the end, Odris chose to send twenty thousand men to retake Sakir, using an overwhelming numerical advantage to force them back.
Twenty thousand was no small number.
Odris truly didn't know whether he should praise Lynn or curse him. What exactly was he trying to do?
He had gone to such great lengths to attack a logistics force, yet couldn't hold it. And wasn't he afraid that Odris would attack Deruowo?
"Sakir City. I've decided to send twenty thousand troops. Who will go?"
Odris looked toward the nobles and retainers present.
"Father, I'll go!"
"Father, I'll go!"
Andrel and Andrew had caused a tremendous disaster, so naturally they wanted to make up for it and redeem themselves through merit.
They also wanted Odris's recognition. At the very least, they had to win a battle, didn't they?
"Andrew, why are you fighting me for this?"
"Big Brother, I'm not fighting you for it. I'm doing this for our logistics security. The battlefield is dangerous—you nearly got hurt last time. For the sake of your son, Big Brother, you shouldn't go."
Andrew looked at Odris. "My nephew can't be without a father, can he?"
Andrel gritted his teeth. His younger brother clearly meant him no good.
Since the White Feather Incident, word