Leslie Ling, Tanzania Town, the tall and thin Viscount Andrew walked up the city wall and looked towards the direction of the dock area from the viewing point of the city wall.
The newly built wharf tower stands on the bank of the Baishui River. The beautiful spire of the tower reflects the dreamlike brilliance in the sun. Under the tower, thousands of sails pass by on the Baishui River. Ships, big and small, come and go like busy ants. The whole river is a busy scene.
Such a busy and lively scene began last year.
A gust of cool wind blew, and his throat, which had become sensitive due to excessive consumption of potions, suddenly felt uncomfortable. Viscount Andrew Leslie couldn't help coughing a few times. The butler standing by immediately stepped forward to warm the long fur coat draped over his master.
The butler, who had been recruited for less than a year, was a little worried: "Master Viscount, you should go back and rest."
"Blowing the cold wind helps you think calmly," Andrew said casually, his eyes turned away from the pier, and swept across the newly built warehouses, mills, and the West District. He suddenly sighed, "It's so fast."
The butler didn't hear clearly: "What?"
The newly recruited butler is reliable in his work, and his mind is quite flexible, but after all, the time is short, and he lacks a tacit understanding with himself. Viscount Andrew sighed slightly in this regard, then shook his head, and shook some unpleasant memories out of his mind: " Nothing. Is the messenger still waiting at the castle?"
"Yes," the butler nodded, "Earl Hossman is waiting for your reply."
Viscount Andrew was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Who do you think will win this war?"
"... Duke Gawain? The situation of Cecil is not good," the steward hesitated, and whispered. He knew that his master was very close to Duke Gawain, but loyalty required him to tell his true identity at this time. Thinking, "Even if he is a legend, he only has a few thousand people, but Earl Hossman has already organized an army of tens of thousands..."
Viscount Andrew was noncommittal: "The 'army' of tens of thousands of people..."
With the mobilization ability of this era, coupled with the desolate and decadent situation in the southern border itself, it is indeed a remarkable number to be able to call up tens of thousands of troops. After all, the largest noble here is only the earl, and the number of private soldiers that can be maintained is after all. There are limits.
After thinking for a few seconds, Viscount Andrew glanced at his butler: "It seems that according to your intention, I should respond to Earl Hosman's call as soon as possible, so that I can stand on the side of the winner as soon as possible."
The butler bowed his head deeply: "My suggestion is insignificant. I'm just a butler, and I don't have enough ability to understand your business."
Andrew felt a little bored, curled his lips at an angle that the butler couldn't see, and then looked at the trebuchet pedestals on the city wall. Those trebuchets were facing the direction of the White Water River. A century ago, the ancestors of the Leslie family used to rely on this The city wall facing the river was used to resist the robbers and fleeing soldiers who attacked from the waterway. It was not long after the civil strife in Anzu ended, and the southern border was far less safe than it is today. Now that a hundred years have passed, these catapults on the city wall have been replaced several times due to decay and fragility, but they have not been used for a long time.
There was another gust of cold wind blowing, and the wind on the city wall always seemed to irritate people's lungs. The viscount wrapped his clothes around his body and coughed softly twice: "Let's go back, Earl Hosman's messenger is waiting For a long time."
The housekeeper followed immediately: "Yes."
"In addition, find me a few 'newspapers' issued by the Cecil Territory, as well as information about the "Aristocratic Reform Act" and "Land Distribution Act" they implemented, find some for me... I need to understand It's over."
A great army is gathering in the north.
Except for the 20,000 troops assigned to Earl Pepper, most of the 50,000 main force have been mobilized and assembled after more than ten days. The continuous camps and flags are on the plains to the southwest of the Carroll area. Spreading out, it was bustling like an unprecedentedly huge market.
Here gathered dozens of armies of local nobles from all over the southern border, from barons to earls, all glorious and orthodox bloodlines gathered together. The number of soldiers brought by each nobleman ranged from less than a hundred to as many as thousands, and they set up their own camps according to their size. They first allocated a large area according to the noble titles they were loyal to, and then made a secondary allocation in this area according to the order of arriving at the gathering point, and finally formed a staggered, extremely chaotic, and varied garrison area.
Dozens of different flags are flying over this huge camp, and between the camps is a labyrinth of winding and intricate roads, wearing various livery and armor, holding various flags, and carrying various Accented orderlies ran around the labyrinth of the camp, shouting orders that only they could understand (or could not understand), and chaos broke out due to wrong orders, but it happened quickly. It will be stopped by the knights rushing out by force.
The equipment worn by the soldiers in the camp was as chaotic as their camp, and it was even a lively exhibition. From the simplest half-body leather armor to the most sophisticated full-body steel armor, they all gathered in this same place. The methods of identifying oneself are also completely different. Some rely on a burqa with an emblem on the body, some tie cloth strips of different colors on the head, some rely on the logo on the shield, and some There is no mark at all, and it is up to the soldiers in the same village to remember each other's faces. This makes people worry about whether this "army" will follow the wrong team on the day of disbandment and return, causing them to run to other places. In fact, this kind of worry is entirely possible, and it even happened.
In the stories of some bards, there is such a story vividly described: a soldier named Tom, who may be a mountain man or a Consco, participated in a grand war, but returned in triumph. At that time, he mistook the officer's face, and followed someone else's army to a place not far away from home. He married a wife and had children in a foreign land, lived for eight years, and then followed the wrong team again in a new war. Returning to his hometown in a daze... This story is widely spread in the southern border, and is even regarded by many knights as a symbol of "romantic battlefield life".
Karloff Housman, wearing a golden-red Earl's cloak, rode on his favorite maroon horse, and was accompanied by several viscounts and barons through the huge camp. At his nearest position, he was wearing Viscount Carroll in a black jacket.
Earl Karlov Hossman had a relaxed and happy smile on his face. The astonishingly large camp in front of him and the 50,000 army in the camp were all established and gathered under his supreme prestige. This grand occasion proved that the Housman family was still brilliant in his hands, and this was the best compliment he could get as a member of the Housman family.
"Look, with such a large-scale power, I really don't know what our ancient hero will use to resist it," Earl Hossman pointed his whip forward, and his tone couldn't help rising, "To be honest, I almost regret it now Maybe I don't need to gather so many people, every flag here must be given a fair share of the spoils."
"This just proves your generosity, my lord," said a baron with a smile, in a tone of respect and admiration. "You not only stood up to uphold the laws and traditions of Ansu, but also generously caressed the land of the land. everyone."
Other people around echoed, and while the nobles were talking, some noises suddenly came from nearby.
Earl Hossman looked up and saw a group of soldiers wearing mail armor or half-armor noisily wrestling together next to the camp. It seemed that a dispute broke out for the priority to fetch water, but it didn't take long for them to wrestle. Then, a knight in bright armor stepped out and knocked all the fighters to the ground with two or three blows.
"Look, the knights who are dedicated to their duties are maintaining order. This is exactly the duty and meaning of nobles." Hossman watched this scene with satisfaction, and couldn't help sighing, "I can't imagine that there would be no such power to maintain order." , How chaotic it will be here... That's why I don't even dare to imagine what our ancient hero wanted to do after depriving the knights of their privileges and destroying the role of the nobles in maintaining order."
"I'm afraid only the gods know what he wants to do, but he must have experienced the consequences of what he did," Viscount Carroll said, shaking his head and sighing, "The insulted knights and mages destroyed him He also blew up his warehouse, he destroyed the order, and now the order has disappeared from his land, and it can only be said that he reaped the consequences."
Viscount Carroll had real regret and regret on his face, of course he would feel regret, because since last winter, selling potions to the Holy Spirit Plain and collecting high taxes from Cecil merchants who entered the city have been his important source of income , now that the alchemy factory in Cecil Territory has been destroyed, and the supply of potions has plummeted, how can this not be regrettable and regrettable.
What annoyed Viscount Carroll even more was that when he had to look for the original alchemists in the territory and wanted to use traditional alchemy potions to temporarily alleviate the shortage, he couldn't find any alchemists...
If it weren't for this blow, the neutral Viscount Carroll would not have completely joined Earl Hossman's camp so soon, and would have taken out a large plain on the edge of his territory for the army to station.
"I don't know what's going on with Earl Pepper," a viscount in the team suddenly said, "Andrew Leslie is very close to Cecil, and he didn't respond to your call this time, maybe he will Ignore your letter to him."
"I personally wrote a letter asking him to stay in the castle and not to block the way of Earl Pepper. This is already the greatest courtesy and tolerance," Karloff Horsman snorted softly, "If he ignores it deliberately It doesn't matter, Earl Pepper brought 20,000 people, and it would take less than two days to bring down the small town of Tanzania. Even if the sick child of the Leslie family went to Cecil to rescue soldiers, it would be too late to put out the fire in his castle. …so as long as his brain isn't completely destroyed by the potion, he'll know what to do."
Hearing this logical analysis, the followers around him all agreed.
Earl Hossman raised his head and looked at the messenger flying towards him in the distance.
He smiled: "We seem to have received a reply from the 'ancient hero'."
When he saw that the courier handed him a quite familiar paint can, Earl Hossman couldn't help raising his eyebrows, and when he saw that the letter in the paint can was the parchment roll written by himself, he In addition to being confused, there was also some anger at being fooled.
The anger reached its peak when he unfolded the parchment and saw the word at the end of the letter, but it turned into a laugh.
Someone next to me was very puzzled by this: "My lord, is there a rebuttal in the letter?"
Earl Hossman stopped laughing and snorted softly. The parchment scroll in his hand caught fire out of thin air and quickly burned to ashes: "No, it's 'war'."
(Oh my god, it hurts to consume saved manuscripts.)