Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 225

Chapter 225: Reaching the city Chapter 225: Reaching the city Alpheo reined in his horse as the walls of Arduronaven came into view, the fortified city standing tall against the horizon.

The stone battlements loomed defiantly, but even from this distance, Alpheo could see signs of hasty preparations.

His gaze wandered over the surrounding landscape, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noted a single, shallow ditch running along the city’s perimeter, separating the inner city from the refugee camp huddled outside.

A leisurely smile crept across his face.

The overcrowding outside the walls had evidently hampered Vroghios’s defenses-flooded with peasants and refugees, they had barely managed to dig even a rudimentary trench.

Alpheo’s sharp gaze traced the line of a half-finished ditch that stretched unevenly across the field, a hastily constructed second line of defense.

It was clear that Vroghios had attempted to dig another trench after the first one, but the work was rushed and incomplete, ending abruptly midway.  Alpheo allowed himself a brief, approving smile as he thought of Shahab’s swift charge earlier that morning.

With the thunder of hooves, Shahab’s knights had torn through the laboring peasants and workers, scattering the crew attempting to finish the ditch.

In a matter of minutes, they’d forced the entire work party to abandon the trenches and flee back behind the city’s gates, stopping all preparations in their tracks.Then few hours later the whole army had arrived Alpheo turned from the sight of the unfinished ditch, his gaze hardening as he took in the expanse of ground where their camp would be set.

Without a moment’s pause, he called out to Asag, who approached briskly.

“Have the men begin digging our own trenches,” he commanded, his tone firm.

“We’ll set the perimeter here.” Asag nodded, already signaling nearby soldiers to begin assembling the tools and marking positions.

Next, Alpheo’s eyes shifted to Jarza, who stood close by, watching the field.

“Jarza,” he ordered, “take four hundred men and keep them posted ahead of the workers.

We’ll need a line of defense as they dig.” Jarza gave a quick salute, but before he turned to leave, he glanced around, frowning.

“Where’s Egil?” he asked, his eyes scanning the camp, as with the gates closed Jarza came to the conclusion that Alpheo had already ordered him to stop sending waves of refugees to their position.

”I already sent a rider after him , to let him know to just take enough food and send enough men toward us as workers and to make sure not to create more refugees that we actually need” At Alpheo’s orders, the soldiers moved swiftly, each one slipping a shovel from their marching packs with the familiar scrape of metal.

They spread out across the rough ground, forming lines as they waited for direction from the engineers.

A team of engineers, clad in simple leather but bearing the crested insignia marking them as specialists, strode among them, calling out instructions in sharp, practiced tones.

“Start here!” an engineer shouted, motioning with a gloved hand to the earth where he drew a line in the dirt.

“Dig straight until you reach that marker over there.

We’ll need the trench at least shoulder-deep-no shortcuts!” The soldiers didn’t hesitate; they set to work with steady resolve, each thrusting shovels into the packed soil, the rhythmic sound of metal biting into earth growing into a steady hum that filled the camp.

Alpheo knew well that pushing too hard on a refugee crisis at this stage could easily backfire.

His objective was clear: to bring these lands back under Yarzat control with as little lasting damage as possible.

Overrunning the countryside would only result in scorched villages and displaced people turning to banditry-a burden for him later on as he intended for these lands to be theirs .

An occupied region stripped to ashes would be costly to restore, and Alpheo had no interest in ruling over charred remains.

For a moment, he’d considered directing the refugees to flee toward the Herculian heartland, flooding it with desperate people and straining their resources.

However, he knew that if the countryside were depopulated entirely, it would take years to restore a steady income flow.

Worse, it would complicate his own strategy; the Herculian prince’s forces would lengthen the time needed for him to form up his army, making Alpheo’s plans for a decisive confrontation with the prince harder to pin down.

Alpheo needed a quick victory, ideally one that would neutralize the enemy’s power in a single battle and leave the road open for a straightforward siege.

Alpheo spotted Lord Shahab approaching through the haze of dust kicked up by the digging soldiers and workers.

With a light nudge, he spurred his horse forward, meeting Shahab halfway, their mounts coming nose to nose.

Alpheo offered a nod of respect, his eyes glinting with approval.

“My compliments on your charge” Shahab smiled, a knowing gleam in his eye.

“We both know that’s more praise than I deserve.

I merely scattered a few peasants-didn’t even need to draw my sword.” Alpheo chuckled, leaning back in his saddle.

“Still, this siege brings back memories of Confluendi” Shahab let out a soft laugh, his gaze turning distant for a moment.

“The day it broke , was a good one.

I hope we’re headed for an outcome just as favorable.” Alpheo gave a thoughtful nod as he studied Shahab for a moment, then asked, “Why didn’t you bring Jared?

I would have loved to march at his side.” Shahab’s face softened with a hint of pride as he replied, “Someone had to remain in my lands, to look after my business while I’m away.” But Alpheo caught the shift in Shahab’s gaze, something unsaid lingering there.

Alpheo’s smile faded as he looked at Shahab with measured intensity, he knew very well Jared had brother , yet the old man brought none of them.

“Do you really think this campaign is a mistake that much?” The older lord’s expression turned serious, the familiar warmth replaced by a somber resolve.

“I like you, Alpheo,” he said quietly.

“You’ve been a good husband to my granddaughter, and I see what you’re trying to accomplish-rallying these lords, giving them a common enemy.

It’s a bold and ambition.” He paused, eyes scanning the assembled soldiers scattered over the field.

“And while most of these lords sent just the minimum to satisfy their duty-a small force led by a few young sons, or a few sworn knights-they still came.” Alpheo nodded, accepting the words in silence as Shahab continued.

“It may not be much, but it’s a start.

Convincing them fully won’t be easy… But you’re laying the foundation for something greater.” Shahab’s expression turned thoughtful, a hint of caution in his voice as he continued, “Still we might have done better to show a bit more patience with this.We are not ready” Alpheo raised an eyebrow, but Shahab pressed on.

“I’d love nothing more than to see those those bastards humbled , to give them the beating they deserve.

But we could’ve used a bit more time to sway some of the larger houses fully to our side.

At the moment, we’ve only managed to secure Lord Xanthios and a few lesser nobles.” He cast a wary glance toward the distant hills, “And Lord Damaris is… well, let’s say he has one foot in and one foot out, neither with us nor against us.” Shahab sighed, the weight of his years showing as he shook his head.

“Time, Alpheo.

We needed more time,” he muttered, almost to himself, his eyes focused on the distant horizon.

“You’re too rash, eager to force your will on the land without softening it first.

More lords would’ve come around, given some persuasion.

Perhaps if we’d held off a season, let them see reason and the benefits of a united front-” Alpheo’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone eve n.

“And when is there ever a good time?

Tell me that,” he challenged, leaning in as he spoke.

“Right now, we can put every ounce of our strength into this campaign.

The southern border with Oizen is secured by our truce, and it’s only lasting another year.

The moment we try to plan any campaign against Herculia after that, Oizen will pounce-taking back every inch of land we’ve fought for both in war and diplomacy.While also ignoring the fact that these two princedoms could join hands?” Shahab didn’t immediately respond, his eyes narrowing as he considered Alpheo’s words.

He knew his prince was right in one respect; the Oizen border was a constant threat.

But rushing a campaign with so few allies was a perilous gamble.

Alpheo softened his tone, sensing Shahab’s hesitation.

“Shahab, I know you’d have liked more time, more alliances.

But a truce’s end waits for no one.

And here we stand, with a rare chance to settle the score with Herculia before Oizen even considers raising a sword.

If we don’t seize this moment, we might never have another.

Must I remind you of the letters we found in Confluendi between lady Elyra and Prince Echlan?

How long do you think it will be before the prince of Oizen and Herculia realize they have a common enemy and plans a double invasion from two routes?

Must I spell to you how much trouble that would be?The best defense is always to attack first and cripple that bastard enough that for the next years, he will have no time to worry about things outside his fucking reach…” Shahab let out a heavy sigh, clearly wrestling with his thoughts.

“Does it really matter now, Alpheo?

We’ve already marched, the die is cast.

What’s done is done.” His voice was tinged with a mix of resignation and frustration, as if he was acknowledging the inevitability of the situation while still holding on to some lingering doubts.

Alpheo’s lips twitched into a small, knowing smile, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

“I suppose it doesn’t” he replied, his voice calm but firm.

He turned his horse around, glancing back at Shahab.

“Come, let’s smooth things over with the commanders.

Our leal lords might have sent their men with half-hearted promises, but it would be good to ensure they don’t hinder us and our campaign and that they understand the line of command….”