Locke rode on his warhorse and adjusted his condition. This was a war, and people could die. So every time Locke fought, he would adjust his condition. More than once, he had seen people who were stronger than him die at the hands of the weaker ones. In his opinion, this was an abnormal performance that caused them to lose their lives. He didn't want to be that kind of person, so he tried his best to show his strength.
He was dragged to the logistics department to choose his horse after he was promoted to platoon jarl. Every platoon jarl had a horse of their own. Under Yoshk's guidance, Locke chose a maroon horse. In this day and age, the life of a warhorse was more valuable than a human life. A warhorse like this could be exchanged for at least 80 silver coins worth of full-body armor, and there was no market for it. If the person wearing the armor died, the armor could be taken off and used again, but if the horse died, there was no way to replace it. This was why the baron had a cavalry platoon, but only the platoon leader was given a horse.
"Giddy up, giddy up!" Locke rode to his platoon. The morale of the soldiers was very important for the upcoming battle. His purpose in appearing in front of his men was to let them know that their platoon jarls were nearby.
"Brother Locke, when can we reach Farlans?" asked Gulas. He was a burly man with a thick beard and a strong physique. Among all the people Locke knew, only Yoshk was stronger than him. He was transferred over from 1st Platoon and was originally a squad jarl. Now that he was appointed as the squad jarl of 1st Platoon, Locke felt that he was a person worth befriending.
"The troops are marching at a rapid pace. At this rate, we'll arrive this evening," said Locke after a moment of consideration.
"Ah, doesn't that mean we won't be fighting until tomorrow?" said Gulas with a slight pout.
Locke glanced at him. "Nonsense. We'll besiege the city tonight and rest for the night. We'll make our move tomorrow morning," said Locke. He could tell that Gulas was a warmonger, so he didn't waste his physique. He wondered how crazy he would get in a fight.
Locke didn't say anything else. The reason why they would attack the city tomorrow was because they still had to meet up with Baron Cashel first. Otherwise, the losses would be too great. Although Shalor's regular army had been defeated by them, even a rotten ship had three pounds of nails, not to mention that Farlans was said to be a baronial city.
At two o 'clock in the afternoon, in the forest beside the road, hundreds of infantrymen were neatly sitting in a circle with their legs crossed. From time to time, dozens of cavalrymen would gallop on the plank road. Cardoj and a few platoon jarls were sitting on a huge tree stump, discussing something. The dark yellow tree stump was densely packed with rings, showing that the tree that had just been cut down had once lived for a long time.
At this moment, a few cavalrymen whizzed over. The leader of the cavalrymen quickly dismounted when he approached Cardoj and the others, then cupped his hands and accepted the order. "How is it? When will Baron Cashel and the others arrive?" Cardoj asked angrily, clearly losing his patience.
"My lord, Baron Cashel's troops are expected to arrive in half an hour," the cavalryman reported.
The baron waved him away.
Everyone in the room felt a tinge of annoyance. "This guy!" A few people with bad tempers started to grumble. Although Cardoj looked calm on the surface, those who knew him well knew that it was a sign that he was about to fly into a rage.
Clip-clop clop clop clop … Finally, Baron Cashel's troops arrived.
"All rise, in formation!" The platoon jarls had received the order in advance and immediately organized the members of their respective platoons. The platoons were then closely linked together, and in just a few minutes, a five-column formation was formed. The cavalry platoon also set off under the command of their commanding officer, marching forward like thunder.
When Baron Cashel arrived with his soldiers, he saw this iron-blooded army. Cashel greeted Cardoj with a smile. "My apologies, a group of refugees blocked the way, so I'm late." Although it was an apology, Cashel squinted his eyes and smiled. He didn't look apologetic at all.
"It's alright, we didn't wait for long. We still have to look up to you for the siege this time." Cardoj didn't look angry at all this time. He smiled and complimented Cashel.
"Every time I see your troops, I can't help but be envious. What a mighty army." Cashel looked at the soldiers around him, but most of his eyes were fixed on the cavalrymen not too far away.
Cashel also had cavalry, but only a dozen or so cavalrymen were following him. They were his personal guards.
"You flatter me," Cardoj said modestly.
The two began to chat, as if they had no intention of leading their troops to set off immediately.
Locke saw that most of the soldiers Cashel brought were infantrymen. There were about six hundred of them, and only a dozen or so cavalrymen. They were all near Cashel and seemed to be his bodyguards. It seemed that both sirs had brought out their trump cards this time. Because the two families had cooperated a few times, Locke had a rough idea of how many soldiers Cashel had under him.
Unlike Cardoj's soldiers, who were orderly, Cashel had more infantrymen, but most of them were more undisciplined. Locke noticed that some of the soldiers didn't even hold their guns properly. It was obvious that they were new recruits. Some of them had dark complexions and hunched backs, as if they had just come out of the fields. It wouldn't be obvious if he just looked at them, but when he compared them to Cardoj's soldiers, it was obvious that they were superior.
Cardoj and Cashel finally finished their greetings. Cashel was still smiling and said to Cardoj, "It's getting late, let's set off."
"Okay, let's go." Cardoj waved his hand and all the platoon jarls returned to their platoons. They then led the soldiers along the plank road.
Under the orders of their respective officers, Cashel's troops reorganized their formation and set off. Cashel also noticed the difference between the soldiers on both sides, but he only frowned and continued to chat with Cardoj. Both of them had their horses led by their own men and walked side by side in the middle of the procession.
Locke's platoon was at the end of the procession, so he couldn't hear what the two barons were talking about. It was probably about the private affairs of some noble lady in the royal capital or the treasures they had seized. "Nobility's interests …" Locke shook his head.
There were many familiar faces in Cashel's troops, all of whom had fought alongside him in the past. Those who knew Locke knew what was going on when they saw his attire. They all looked at him enviously. Locke nodded at them in response. Most of the people Locke knew were platoon jarls. Don't underestimate them. They were all commoners like Locke. They didn't have any power or influence, but they still had their own abilities to become platoon jarls. The more friends, the more options. Locke did things with this principle in mind.
In the evening, the red sun on the horizon let out its last ray of light and sank below the horizon. Farlans was welcomed into the night. It was a small town, but it wasn't hard to tell from the dense streets and houses that it was a prosperous city. But at this time, the yellow leaves on both sides of the street were not being swept away. Refugees were sitting on the ground and the shops were long closed. The ones that were open had been forced open by the refugees. The broken wooden doors of the shops showed the chaos that had happened in the past. It was hard to imagine that this was still the prosperous and beautiful city of Farlans a year ago.
Two people in black cloaks were hurrying through a deep alley in Farlans. One of the cloaks was slightly bloated and it seemed like there was more than one person.
"Miss, it's getting dark. Let's go," an old voice urged from behind the black cloak.
Hearing this, the man in the black cloak quickened his pace. Under the black cloak was a woman with a pale face. Her blonde hair showed that she was of high status, but she looked very haggard at the moment. Under the cloak, she was carrying a half-grown girl. The little girl was probably only eleven or twelve years old. Although she was dressed extravagantly, it was very thin. Under the sleeves was a white arm. The little girl was hugging the woman's neck. Although it was obvious that the little girl wasn't in a good state, she didn't scream and just quietly hugged the woman.
The two walked to a wooden door deep in the alley. The man in the cloak stepped forward and knocked on the door. Not long after, a woman who looked to be about seventeen or eighteen opened the door a little. After seeing the two people at the door, she immediately opened the door and closed it again. The surroundings were plunged into darkness again.
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Exams were in two weeks. I've been busy with revision recently and it's been very uncomfortable.
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