"They didn't dare show themselves lightly now. After all, we wiped out thirteen thousand Golden Dragon Mercenaries in half a day. Marshal Dawur of the Acatlia Knight Order isn't a fool; he can definitely gauge our strength. And this time, we made such a grand display that they'd have to be blind not to understand our strength. If we launched a frontal assault now, victory would be assured. It should take no more than half a month. There are still sixty thousand men inside their fortress. Once the fortress falls, their morale will collapse, and they'll all be doomed. But... if we kept up a month-long assault, our losses by the end would probably reach that number as well."
Bradman stared wordlessly at the sand table.
He knew that although Li was not well known and had clashed with him before, his calculations in this regard could not be wrong. In fact, Bradman had arrived at the same figure when he first began asking questions. No matter what, losing sixty thousand men meant that even if they won this battle, it would be no different from defeat.
Though the two sides argued for some time, they could ultimately only adopt a very conservative plan: split their forces and bypass the fortress to fight in the enemy's heartland.
This was undoubtedly extremely dangerous, but in Bradman's eyes, rather than wasting their lives here, it was better to strike directly into the enemy's interior.
And so the days slowly passed. Li received the title of military inspector, but it was practically the same as being idle; every day, he simply wandered around with nothing to do. The ten divisions the Southern Pact Alliance sent afterward attacked separately, with both victories and defeats among them. One division was even wiped out entirely by