"If Your Highness leads the soldiers to a grand victory, the Kingdom of Elonia will be profoundly grateful. They are woefully unprepared for the invasion, struggling as it is. Your assistance at such a crucial time would only enhance your reputation."
Randolph's imagination began to churn, envisioning the glory awaiting him.
The vision of leading five thousand soldiers to a sweeping victory, being embraced and kissed in gratitude by Princess Elise, and earning the recognition of his father, Charles V, surged through Prince Randolph's mind like waves. The crown prince, brushing aside his last moments of hesitation, declared decisively:
"Yes! Missing such a golden opportunity would be foolish. Sir Philip, let us achieve great deeds together!"
As the prince and Philip exchanged ambitious smiles, their eyes gleamed with determination. Whether things would proceed as they envisioned, however, remained uncertain.
Rain began to fall over the fortress.
Michael stood atop the watchtower, letting the rain soak him as he fixed his gaze on the frontlines where the enemy would advance. Water streamed down his hair, but his focus never wavered. When his squire, Alex, approached to shield him with an umbrella, Michael refused with a firm gesture.
At the moment, he needed to cool his overburdened mind. The rain couldn't persist—it was essential that it didn't. He worried that the traps they had painstakingly set might fail to function as intended if the rain continued.
"Duke Capone, have the soldiers inspect the traps and repair any damage they find," Michael ordered.
Without delay, Duke Capone relayed the commands. Though Capone outranked Michael as a duke, the young general held ultimate authority during wartime as the supreme commander. Fortunately, Capone was no narrow minded aristocrat obsessed with hierarchy, ensuring the chain of command operated smoothly.
The rain, Michael thought as he surveyed the horizon, had its advantages. Muddy paths were not conducive to marching. The saturated plains would inevitably slow the Pamir Empire's army. Even so, there was no room for complacency. With summer approaching, the roads would dry quickly once the rain stopped. Preparations for that moment needed to be thorough.
"For now, the fortress is well stocked, but we cannot predict how long this will last," Michael remarked. "Issue an edict prohibiting civilian movement under the pretext of ensuring their safety due to the dangerous environment. If the siege is prolonged, we may need to requisition supplies. We can provide promissory notes to compensate them later."
Duke Capone nodded in agreement. It was a prudent course of action.
If the frontlines were surrounded and a siege seemed imminent, wartime merchants would undoubtedly scramble to flee the area. Holding them in place while movement was still feasible would prove invaluable later.
The fortress was already home to several wartime profiteers. Some operated brothel wagons, others sold essential goods and food to the soldiers. The Zarc Trading Company, revived under Michael's leadership, was also stationed within the fortress. Their grain supplies alone could sustain the entire population of the fortress through a prolonged siege.
Issuing promissory notes meant the merchants wouldn't incur losses, creating a mutually beneficial arrangement. Of course, the merchants might wish to flee preemptively, fearing for their lives should the fortress fall. But wasn't accepting such risks part of being a wartime merchant?
"Ensure the soldiers' meals include fresh vegetables and fruits. The assigned rations must be strictly adhered to. If any quartermaster is found diverting or lowering the quality of supplies intended for the soldiers, inform them that they will be executed regardless of rank," Michael commanded.
Maintaining the soldiers' strength required proper nutrition, and Michael understood how disastrous poor supply management could be for an army. His orders continued.
"Additionally, prohibit nobles and knights, except for the rank and file soldiers, from using the brothel wagons. Information leaking through the women stationed there must not be allowed."
While brothel wagons were an unspoken norm in wartime to alleviate soldiers' stress, Michael found the situation distasteful. Still, he conceded to the era's realities. Caution was essential—spies exploiting honey traps were always a possibility.
Turning his attention back to the frontlines, Michael remained vigilant. The rain continued to fall.
Duke Capone hesitated briefly but soon agreed. Though the order might stir dissatisfaction among the nobles and knights, it was necessary. After issuing the instructions through his adjutant, Capone looked at Michael with a mix of admiration and respect.
The idea that enemy spies might infiltrate through brothel wagons hadn't even occurred to him. Upon reflection, it seemed entirely plausible. After such encounters, people often let their guard down, sharing idle chatter that could include sensitive information.
"To think someone so young possesses such insight…" Capone marveled inwardly. This young commander meticulously accounted for every detail on the battlefield.
Inevitably, Capone couldn't help but compare the crown prince to Michael. He sighed deeply, recalling Randolph's relentless attempts to secure a place on the battlefield. As the royal family's sole heir, his actions were incomprehensible.
What the crown prince needed wasn't military accolades. While adding military achievements to his name would be a bonus, political acumen and mature judgment were far more critical. The more Capone compared the two, the more evident Randolph's shortcomings became.
If only he were the kingdom's successor…
Capone startled at the intrusive thought, hastily shaking his head to banish it. Such ideas, even as idle musings, were forbidden.
Yet he couldn't deny it—Michael had quietly become more reliable than the crown prince. Unable to suppress the truth, Capone let out another heavy sigh.
The rain continued to pour relentlessly, its sound blending with the wind beating against the stone walls and windows of the fortress's meeting hall, amplifying the tense atmosphere.
Inside, all the senior officials of the fortress were gathered. A military conference had been convened to strategize for the battles ahead.
Michael intended to overhaul the reward system to boost the morale of the knights and soldiers and encourage them to fight courageously. At the start of the meeting, he explained the new system he had devised.