by Michael Sisa
It was a logical proposal, considering the fact that it was the nearest city currently occupied by the Empire.
“And to do that, we’ll need commanders. Commanders capable of leading these soldiers.”
The atmosphere began to heat up. Everyone had heard that three commanders were going to be picked today by His Majesty. Everyone hoped that they would be among the three.
The Coalition Army consisted of around forty thousand soldiers. Even after dividing them into three armies, a commander would still have authority over a legion. To lead such a massive force was the opportunity of a lifetime.
“I will now announce the three commanders for this army.”
Everyone held their breath. The tense atmosphere was a stark contrast to the beautiful scenery filled with thousands of flowers.
“First, Baron Zacharia.”
Everyone’s gaze landed on the middle-aged man with a missing arm. He was a famous figure in the Kingdom. A retired veteran who survived the Bloody Thorn Plains Incident fifteen years ago.
Although the nobles were disheartened that they were not immediately picked, they could understand the reason why Zacharia was chosen by the King. Not only was he strong, he also held decades’ worth of wisdom born from numerous battlefields.
“Baron Zacharia, step forward!” said the Grand Chamberlain.
The Baron stepped forward and knelt before His Majesty.
“You shall be granted the authority over fourteen thousand soldiers,” said the King. “You are hereby granted the title of Commander of the First Army!”
The King pinned a medal on Baron Zacharia’s shoulder.
“I am greatly honored, Your Majesty.”
The Baron moved to the side and stood next to the Grand Chamberlain.
“And the second commander for this army,” said the King.
Time seemed to slow down as the King slowly opened his lips.
“Arzen Boris.”
Arzen’s eyes glimmered for a moment. A wide grin formed on his face.
“Arzen Boris, step forward!” said the Grand Chamberlain.
Arzen stepped forward and knelt down before the King.
“Arzen Boris, you are hereby granted authority over fourteen thousand soldiers,” said the King. “You shall be the Commander of the Second Army!”
The King also pinned a medal on Arzen’s shoulder.
“I will crush those imperial dogs for you, Your Majesty.”
King Alvis nodded. “I expect a lot from the younger generation, from you, Arzen.”
Arzen bowed his head. “I will not fail your expectations, My King.”
Arzen moved to the side and stood next to the Baron. He momentarily locked eyes with Zacharia. He whispered, “Who do you think is the third?”
Zacharia gave a disinterested reply, “Who knows.”
Arzen chuckled. The middle-aged man was a typical war veteran.
“And the last!” said the King.
By now, everyone was on the edge of their seats. Only one slot was remaining.
“Come forward,” the King raised his voice, “Lark Marcus!”
A young man with silver hair stepped out of the crowd. He slowly walked toward the King, his gait filled with confidence. He knelt down before His Majesty.
“You are granted authority over seventeen thousand soldiers! You will be given the title: Commander of the Third Army!”
Lark felt the irony of this title. Not even a year had passed since he defeated the Third Legion. But now, he was granted the title of Commander of the Third Army. An army more than large enough to be called a legion.
But this was just perfect. Not only was he given one of the three slots, he was given authority to a larger army than the other commanders. There was a lot he could do with seventeen thousand soldiers under his command.
“I humbly accept this task, Your Majesty.”
He felt a piercing gaze from his right. Upon looking, he saw Arzen staring at him. The man was smiling, but his eyes were glimmering with dangerous light. He was probably displeased that Lark was chosen instead of one of his brothers.
Lark moved to the side and stood next to the other two commanders. Arzen said to him, “Never expected this twist in the story. Congrats.”
Lark did not reply to the sarcastic remark. He merely stood there, attentively listening to the King as he announced which armies will be incorporated into the First, Second, and Third Army.
Some of the nobles groaned when they heard that their soldiers would be under the Third Army, under the command of Lark. It was understandable, since Lark’s previous shell had a notorious reputation. Even his previous feats of destroying the Black Famine and driving away the Third Legion did not easily erase that.
The King started discussing the plan of taking back the City of Yan. Lark frowned. It should be possible to take back the city, but it would waste this army’s potential. In the end, he decided to speak his mind.
He raised his hand. “Your Majesty, may I give a suggestion?”
The King paused. He looked at Lark for a moment. He remembered that the last time Lark spoke his mind, he gave them the blueprint for the mana bombs, even drafting the plan to attack the nearest city of the Empire. Although it incited an all-out war with the Empire, no one could refute that it was nonetheless an ingenious plan.
Anticipation started to well up within him. The King said, “Go on. What is it?”
Lark could feel numerous gazes on him but he did not care. He spoke what was on his mind. “I believe that retaking the City of Yan with all three armies combined is a mistake. Even if we take back the city, it would not benefit the Kingdom in the slightest.”
“But young man,” said the King. “The City of Yan is only several days away from the capital. If we do not recapture it right away, the capital is at risk of invasion from the Empire.”
The other nobles nodded at the King’s statement.
Lark raised three fingers. “Right now, three massive armies are here at the capital. I suggest that only the First Army march toward the City of Yan and retake it from the Empire’s hands.”
He glanced at Arzen, then at the King. “Meanwhile, the Second and Third Army will recapture Yorkshaire City.”
It felt like a declaration of suicide. Although it had been captured by the Empire, Yorkshaire City was still known as an impregnable fortress. And now that tens of thousands of soldiers from the Empire were guarding it, they would need way more soldiers to take back the city. Even the Silver War God and the Sword Saint had failed. But now, this newly elected commander was suggesting that they attack that fortress.
Arzen furrowed his brows. He was a commander too. He disliked the feeling that Lark was telling him which city he should attack.
“I refuse,” said Arzen. “Attacking Yorkshaire, as we are now, is suicide. We should first regroup with the scattered Marcus Army and Yorkshaire Army, then from there, formulate a plan to take back the city.”
Buzzes filled the royal garden. The nobles started discussing among themselves which decision was correct.
“Silence!” snarled the Grand Chamberlain. “You are before His Majesty!”
And silence befell everyone. But deep within their minds, they started calculating the pros and cons of these suggestions. Most of the nobles sided with Arzen, since the most logical thing to do was amass more soldiers before launching an attack to that fortress.
The King looked conflicted as he considered both sides. Eventually he sighed. “Lark Marcus, I’m afraid that if the Commander of the Second Army refuses to take part in your request, there’s nothing more I can do.”
Arzen grinned. He looked at Lark triumphantly.
“Your Majesty,” said Lark, “recapturing the cities occupied by the Empire’s soldiers will do nothing but chip away at our strength. As long as Yorkshaire remains within the Empire’s grasp, imperial soldiers will just keep coming through that path. In the end, when our soldiers are exhausted from all the fighting, the Empire will launch an all-out
offensive at the capital.”
The soldiers of the Empire were several times that of the Kingdom. As long as they occupied Yorkshaire, they could just send more soldiers to replace the fallen ones. This was probably the reason why the War God and the Sword Saint immediately rallied the defeated Marcus Army and Yorkshaire Army to reclaim the city. Unfortunately, they lost in their attempt to retake the city.
The buzz filled the garden once again. The nobles began discussing the proposals of Lark and Arzen.
As the nobles were having heated arguments, Baron Zacharia—who’d remained silent until now—spoke.
“If the Second Army isn’t willing to do it, my army will.”
Lark was taken by surprise. He had not expected the war veteran to take his side.
“I believe that attacking Yorkshaire is the correct choice at this moment, Your Majesty,” Baron Zacharia said humbly . “I do not want this war to be a repeat of the Bloody Thorn Plains Incident. Even if it means death, I will join the attack on Yorkshaire.”
VOLUME 4: CHAPTER 4
Lark’s suggestion brought forth heated discussions within the upper echelons of the capital. The King gathered his officials as they discussed the next step. In the end, the march toward the City of Yan was delayed by an entire day. The officials were torn between two choices: take back the nearby City of Yan from the Empire, or recapture the City of Yorkshaire.
“But, Your Majesty,” one of the six officials gathered in the throne room raised his voice, “as we are now, we can’t risk attacking the Yorkshaire Fortress! I heard the bastards from the Empire fortified the walls and laid more traps! If we allow this farce, we’ll be simply sending the soldiers to their deaths!”
Three other officials nodded at these words. The remaining two, on the other hand, kept their silence.
“Lord Hais is right, Your Majesty! The best thing we could do right now is to take back the nearby City of Yan, then regroup with the scattered Marcus and Yorkshaire Army, before heading to the front lines! As we are now, it’ll be impossible for us to win against the Empire!”
“Just General Rizel alone is enough to topple several cities, but there’s General Alvaren too! Two monsters of the old era are currently rampaging in the Western Front right now. I doubt even the Sword Saint could win against them one-on-one!”
“Fool!” One of the officials who was silent until now finally spoke. “No one can possibly win against the Sword Saint in a one-on-one fight! Have you lost your mind, Count?”
“Hah! I’ve lost my mind? The Sword Saint ran away from the fight! And you still think he’s the same peerless swordsman he was once before? He’s too old. No matter how skilled he is with the sword, he’s now nothing but an old man knocking on death’s door!”
“Enough!” roared the King. He coughed thrice after exerting himself from the shout.
Silence descended the throne room. One of the King’s personal guards handed him a goblet. After taking a sip, the King sighed and leaned back on his throne.
“I believe that the majority of you are against this,” said the King. His usually kind smile was gone. “But I, your King, will have the final say.”
King Alvis looked at each and every one of them. Although they were in clear opposition right now, King Alvis had no doubts of their loyalty toward the Kingdom.
“Alain,” the King said to the only official who hadn’t voiced his opinion, “you’ve been silent until now. Tell me, what do you think about Lark Marcus’ proposal?”
Everyone looked at the official’s direction. Seeing everyone’s gazes, he spoke. “I also believe that it’s foolish to attack Yorkshaire City right away,” he said. “It’ll be impossible to retake that city unless, by some miracle, we are able to enlist the help of a powerful reinforcement—at least as powerful as the magic tower. But those magicians… They will never move unless their city is directly attacked. The Empire probably knows this too. That’s why they openly stated that they have no intention of antagonizing the tower.”
Wizzert City was probably the safest city in the Kingdom right now. There were rumors that once the Empire annexed the entire Kingdom, only the City of Magic would be left untouched. It seemed that the Empire did not want to risk waging war with a city full of magicians. There was also the speculation that the Emperor wanted the tower to be included among their ranks.
“How about the Royal Court Magicians?” one of the officials asked.
“They’ve already been dispatched to rescue Duke Kelvin’s son.”
The officials’ faces turned sour. Due to Lancaster’s capture, the entire Kelvin Duchy came up with the perfect excuse not to actively take part in this war. The King immediately gathered his officials and they eventually came up with the plan of rescuing Lancaster from General Rizel’s grasp. According to their intel, the successor to the House Kelvin was currently locked up in Rock Castle, just a week away from the Kelvin Duchy.
They decided to send a team of elites—half of the Royal Court Magicians—to rescue the hostage. Hopefully, by rescuing Lancaster, they’d be able to enlist the help of the Kelvin Duchy.
“The Royal Court Magicians are no good, huh?”
The remaining half of the Royal Court Magicians were currently tasked with protecting the capital.
“Damn it. If only those bastards from the magic tower would participate in this war! Can’t they see that at this rate, the Kingdom will fall to the Empire’s hands?”
The King fell into contemplation, ignoring the bickering of the officials beneath his throne.
The Empire.
The magic tower.
The Royal Court Magicians.
Why hadn’t he thought of it until now?
If he looked at it from a wider perspective, the answer had been there all along.
If the participation of the tower of magic alone could greatly influence the tide of war, then how much impact would it bring if the person who defeated the magicians of the tower participated?
The King’s heart started pounding at this thought.
He was a fool for taking this long to realize whether Lark Marcus’ proposal was right or wrong.
Finally, he spoke. “I’ve decided.”
Everyone shut their lips and looked at the King. At the end of the day, the final decision rested on him.
“We will go along with Lark Marcus’ plan. The First and Third Army shall march to Yorkshaire.”
The officials looked as though they’d just been sentenced to death. They groaned.
“But your Majesty—”
“—The attack on the magic tower a few months ago…” said the King, “the unknown person who single-handedly defeated all the magicians of the magic tower.”
“Does your Majesty finally have a lead on that powerful magician?” Lord Hais almost squeaked. He was among those who adamantly searched for the identity of the perpetrator in hopes of luring him in within the ranks of the Royal Court Magicians.
The King nodded. “Yes. I’ve appointed him as the Commander of the Third Army just recently.”
The eyes of the officials widened to the point of almost popping out. Some of them tried to say a few words but eventually decided to shut their mouths.
“L-Lark Marcus? There… must be a mistake.”
The King sighed. “I was stunned when I heard the report from Mikael too. Who would have known that the second son of Duke Drakus is capable of Grand Scale Magic?”
Grand Scale Magic.
The officials remembered the reports regarding the attack on the magic tower. A lone magician attacked the magic tower and defeated all of its magicians.
They finally realized why the King had chosen Lark Marcus as the Commander of the Third Army, and why the young man considered the option of directly attacking Yorkshaire City.
“The decision is final. Give the order for the First and Third Army to start their march.”
***
After receiving the go signal, Lark gathered all the soldiers of the Third Army.
Standing on top of a large mound he created using earth magic, he scanned the sea of soldiers before him. He could see the uneasiness and fear in some of them, while there were those who did not bother to hide their contempt at him, their new commander.
Lark amplified his voice with magic and said, “I am the Commander of the Third Army, Lark Marcus. I’m sure most of you’ve heard about me, so I’ll skip the introductions. I gathered all of you here today to know one thing: Your skills, your worth. I want to know what you can do, what you can offer to this army.”
He paused and looked at the soldiers gathered before him. “What we’ll be going up against are soldiers of the Empire—veterans of war. An army without any coordination will never win against them.
“Therefore, before we start our march, I want this army to be divided into six groups. Light infantry, heavy infantry, cavalry, archers, scouts, and the supplies team.
“It should be fairly obvious, but those of you who are confident of your defenses should join the heavy infantry. It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing leather armors, as long as your magic permits you to take several blows from the army, you’re qualified for the positi—”
“—Hey! Why should we listen to a brat like you?” someone among the crowd interjected.
Lark smiled. Someone finally voiced their discontent.
He had expected things to go this way the moment he was elected as one of the three commanders. After all, no one in this army would like to follow a weak-looking young man like him. And there was also his notorious reputation to boot.
“Good question,” Lark’s eyes glimmered dangerously. “First, because I am your commander, appointed by the King himself. And second, because I’m a lot stronger than you, old man. Insubordination is a crime. This is the last warning. I will not tolerate any more disrespect from here on out.”
Lark knew that he should set the rules straight. Otherwise, he would be unable to control this massive army once they clashed with the Empire.
These guys knew him as nothing but the incompetent, disowned son of a Duke. He could see from their eyes that none of them respected nor feared him. Lark planned on rectifying this before their march.
