Chapter 219 – 89 Ending_2
“Montaigne… Oh, I remember you,” Layton looked at Winters thoughtfully. He threw out a line that baffled the other officers, “You did well on the ship too.”
Winters saluted in acknowledgment.
“Son, I wasn’t as capable as you are when I was your age.” Layton made an unexpected move—he took off his own Oak Leaf Lion Medal and pinned it on Winters’ bloodstained coat: “Without you, Red Sulfur Harbor would still be in Tanilian hands. Keep up the good work, you’ll surely outdo me in the future.”
Winters still just saluted in acknowledgment. He wasn’t proud, nor did he feel honored; he hadn’t fought the Tanilians for a medal, and a medal couldn’t bring back the lives that had been sacrificed.
Layton, looking at Winters’ calm expression, rated the young warrant officer even more highly. He pointed at Winters, “You will stay for the military council.”
Without any pomp and circumstance, a table was dragged over, a map was spread out, and the officers formed a circle around it to begin the meeting.
The content of the meeting was simple—Major General Layton couldn’t stand the sword hanging over his head and was determined to capture the Bastion at Red Sulfur Harbor.
“I took people to check it out just now; it’s a small four-pointed star fort, not even a triangle fort,” Layton leaned over the map, marking it with charcoal as he spoke: “The fort is bordered by water on the south, so we can only attack from the other three sides. The first contingent will control the city defenses of Red Sulfur Harbor, while second, third, and fourth contingents will attack from the other three sides, and the fifth contingent will be in reserve. Tanilian morale must be brittle; as soon as we storm the trench, they’ll be too scared to do anything but surrender!”
Another officer, clearly not in agreement with Layton’s perspective, raised an objection. Vineta Army’s military councils weren’t about rank: “The trench is at least ten meters wide and filled with water, how are we going to cross it?”
“Drag small boats ashore to make a temporary Floating Bridge,” another officer who supported an aggressive assault suggested.
“Setting up a Floating Bridge under the fort’s artillery?” Field also joined in, clearly not in support of an assault: “I think we can present an aggressive stance to intimidate the Tanilians, but don’t actually squander lives in an attack. The Tanilians in the fort probably also want to surrender; otherwise, why haven’t they bombarded us by now?”
“If they wanted to surrender, they would have done so by now,” the officer who had proposed setting up the Floating Bridge quickly countered: “But the Confederation’s flag is still flying over the Bastion.”
“It’s highly likely that the Tanilians inside are also wavering, or waiting for adequate terms of surrender,” Field insisted that persuasion was called for: “There’s still Tanilian main forces on the island, and we need to reserve our troops to face them, not waste our strength on attacking fortified positions.”
Every officer present held at least the rank of lieutenant colonel. With a general leading a group of field officers in a meeting, Winters certainly didn’t plan to interject.
However, Layton’s attention stayed with the silent Winters. He specifically asked, “Warrant Officer Montaigne, you know this island better than anyone here, what’s your take?”
All eyes suddenly focused on Winters.
“The Bastion was refurbished three months ago. It has new cannons, a water reservoir, and both its ammunition and food stores are full,” Winters spoke without hesitation, having been called upon. “But the Confederation’s main forces are engaged with the Third Corps. The Bastion is mostly defended by the militia of Red Sulfur Harbor, meaning the defenders’ families are all in the city.”
In the presence of high-ranking officers, Winters didn’t offer suggestions, merely stating the intelligence he had acquired. However, his thoughts were clear as day.
“This is a military council, don’t be scared; speak your mind!” Layton, always hot-tempered, chastised Winters, not pleased with the half-spoken suggestion: “Don’t talk in half-truths!”
“The Bastion’s garrison might be open to negotiation,” Winters, chastened, now spoke frankly. He added, “Also, there are thirty-two-pound cannons in the battery in the bay. Whether we want to negotiate or attack, we could start by bringing over those cannons.”
Having heard Winters’ words, Layton made a decision, “That’s settled, then. Find someone from the city to carry a message to them. We’ll talk if they’re willing; if not, we fight. The first contingent will move the heavy cannons Montaigne talked about, and the rest of the contingents will prepare to attack.”
“What about the trench?” someone asked.
“If the Tanilians don’t surrender,” Layton snorted coldly: “Let the Tanilians inside Red Sulfur Harbor fill it! Dismissed!”
Outside the council hall, people who had been waiting for a long time finally saw Winters emerge. Read full story at novel·fiɾe·net
Continue your journey on empire
“Why did it take so long?” Andre had grown extremely impatient.
Winters pulled something off his chest and tossed it into Andre’s arms: “Kongtai’er, Layton, they’re all the same.”
“What’s this?” Andre caught it clumsily and suddenly widened his eyes: “A Victory Medal?”
Looking at Andre’s excited expression, Winters somberly said to him, “You’re becoming just like them.”
“Where did this Victory Medal come from?” Andre’s eyes gleamed, not hearing what Winters had said: “Is this… is this a real Victory Medal?”
“If you want it, keep it.”
“Really? You’re giving it to me? You won’t regret this later? Is this really a Victory Medal?” Andre was already so thrilled that he was nearly incoherent.