The Lord's Manor, War Room.
The air in the room was tense.
Caroline sat beside Veylin. Tristan, Ola, Barrett, Valerius, and Elwin were all present-every core member of the Gray Marsh Fief, their expressions grave.
Veylin dispensed with pleasantries and walked straight to the enormous sand table in the center of the room, which modeled the Gray Marsh Fief and the surrounding waters.
"Kolsh has confessed. Chief Unas's main force will arrive in a month."
He paused, letting the news sink in.
Then he summarized what Kolsh had told him about the size of the enemy's main force.
The terrifying strength he described made everyone's hearts sink.
Bang!
Ola sprang to his feet, brimming with fighting spirit.
"One month! That's plenty of time to prepare! Give the order, my lord. The knights barely got a taste of revenge last time. They're thirsting for the blood of those deep-sea bastards!"
But Veylin shook his head.
"We're hopelessly outmatched in both manpower and high-level combat strength. Even if we won a head-on fight, Minas Tirith would be reduced to rubble. We can't afford that kind of loss."
He picked up a long wooden pointer. Rather than indicating any stretch of land, he pointed at the vast blue waters outside Minas Tirith Harbor.
"So we'll take a different approach. We'll establish a new defensive line here."
Tristan adjusted his glasses and studied the area. "My lord, do you mean... building fortifications on the seabed? The scale of the work would be enormous. Completing it in a month would be virtually impossible."
"No." Veylin rejected his guess. "Not fortifications."
He turned to face their puzzled expressions and spoke each word distinctly.
"Land."
"The 'new reclamation plan.' Or you can call it land reclamation."
An uncanny silence fell over the room.
Caroline finally broke it,