The north of the kingdom was naturally somewhat different from the south. Flowers were already blooming in the spring warmth of Bunta City, but Loren City, less than two hundred kilometers from the Northern Border, had yet to fully shed winter's chill.
Yet Prince Eric's heart burned with excitement. It easily overcame that lingering chill, blazing past the warmth of spring into the scorching heat of summer.
The time had come to win glory and make his mark!
Looking at the thirty thousand well-equipped, spirited soldiers of the Northern Garrison in their crisp uniforms on the plain outside the city, Prince Eric felt more confident than ever before.
He even felt that, with these thirty thousand soldiers at his command, he could march straight north, not only breaching the gates of the Sark Kingdom but fighting his way into its capital and bringing the entire kingdom beneath his army's hooves.
Once he had earned such unparalleled military glory, who would be qualified to compete with him for the crown?
Reason, however, told him that this was utterly unrealistic.
The thirty thousand soldiers looked so formidable now only because the great nobles supporting him had been sending a steady stream of supplies. This had greatly eased the logistical problems that had long plagued the Northern Garrison, transforming its spirits and making its fighting strength appear vastly improved.
Even so, defeating the Sark Kingdom with these thirty thousand soldiers alone was impossible.
When discussing their strategic objectives, Duke Stark had warned Eric in no uncertain terms not to entertain any hopes of truly defeating the Sark Kingdom.
The Lampari Kingdom had failed to accomplish that in hundreds of years. Even with the formidable support he now enjoyed, he could never achieve it.
The sole reason for launching this war was to secure