Chapter 143 : Chapter 143

Chapter 143. The Gathering at Eros City

Eros ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍City.

This important city, which had originally belonged to the central region of the Western Frontier, had now become the Western Federation’s temporary assembly point.

The city had been occupied by an officer from the Duskwind Federation named Newell.

During the previous secret meeting, this place had been chosen as the forward base for the military operation.

Paul Botticelli, as the current highest-ranking person in charge of the Wanliu Federation forces in Storm City and the surrounding region,

personally led the three thousand troops pieced together from Storm City and its affiliated strongholds.

After several days of marching, they finally arrived outside Eros City.

The scene before him could be called “spectacular,” but that spectacle only made Paul’s heart sink further.

The open ground outside the city was densely covered with all kinds of disorderly military tents.

The flags were chaotic. Some still clearly bore the emblems of their respective city-states, while others were so filthy and damaged that they were difficult to identify.

The soldiers gathered in groups of three or five. Clamor, curses, and even the shrill laughter of women mixed together.

Rather than an army about to fight a life-and-death battle,

it looked more like an enormous roving marketplace for bandits.

Paul suppressed the displeasure in his heart and ordered his adjutant to lead the main force to the area that had been designated in advance to set up camp.

He himself took only a small squad of his most elite personal guards and rode into the city.

The scene inside the city was even more unbearable than outside.

Debris was piled along the streets, sewage flowed everywhere, and ordinary citizens were almost nowhere to be seen.

Clearly, they had either fled long ago or shut their doors tightly, not daring to go outside.

Several men who were obviously low-ranking officers were staggering out of a tavern with their arms around one another’s shoulders.

Their faces were full of drunkenness, and they wantonly cursed and beat the occasional frightened passerby by the roadside for amusement.

Paul sighed deeply in his heart. There was no military discipline to speak of.

He had long expected this. After most Federation armies occupied their own Western Frontier cities and spent some time living like petty emperors,

they had long since degenerated from organized armies into bandit gangs that only knew how to burn, kill, plunder, and indulge in pleasure.

Even Storm City, which he had spent considerable effort ruling through harsh methods,

could not reverse this spreading atmosphere of corruption. He could barely maintain the combat strength of his core troops.

Could such a rabble, which might have a considerable number of men but was riddled with internal factions and lax discipline,

really capture Thorne City, the city known as the “unfallen fortress of the Western Frontier”?

Paul’s heart was filled with doubt.

He knew very well that their previous miraculous and rapid capture of Storm City had benefited from internal collusion and certain “assistance.”

But this time, they had no inside agents.

Moreover, what they would face were Western Frontier defenders who possessed sturdy city defenses and the advantage of fighting on their home ground.

But… he no longer had any other choice.

The Alliance was in internal chaos, and the road home had been cut off.

If they remained trapped in isolated cities, sooner or later, they would be slowly ground to death by the Orlandians once they recovered their breath.

This window created by the transition of power and troop movements was their only chance, and also their last.

Although he vaguely sensed that they were very likely being used by certain people as a “spear” to test the Western Frontier’s true strength,

he had to seize this opportunity.

This was a grand gamble.

If they won, then as long as they could capture Thorne City—or even merely shake it severely—it would inevitably trigger a disastrous chain reaction within the Kingdom of Orlando.

The newly enthroned young sovereign, the Duke of the Western Frontier who served as regent, the other grand dukes watching hungrily from the side…

Under the temptation of such immense profit and a power vacuum, this vast kingdom might very well collapse from within on its own.

At that time, the Western Federation Alliance, which had fallen into internal strife, might truly be driven by this shared enormous interest

to temporarily set aside its differences and unite once more.

They might even conquer this rich kingdom they had coveted for so long in a single stroke.

Thinking of this, a trace of resolve flashed through Paul’s eyes. This battle had to be won quickly!

He signaled to the personal guards beside him and had them go forward to drive away the drunken officers causing trouble in the street.

“Teach them a small lesson. Let them understand some rules, but do not kill anyone.”

Watching his personal guards accept the order and leave, Paul did not linger.

He urged his horse onward and quickly headed to the lord’s keep at the center of the city.

At this moment, some people had already gathered before the lord’s keep.

A noble leaning against the entrance was chatting idly with his companions.

When he saw Paul and his party arrive on horseback, his eyes lit up, and he immediately turned toward the inside of the door and shouted loudly.

“Oh! Stop arguing, everyone! Quiet down! Our ‘great Alliance Lord,’ Lord Paul Botticelli, has finally arrived!”

The noisy arguments and discussions inside instantly fell silent for a moment.

Immediately afterward, more than a dozen men and women dressed in all kinds of attire, each with different bearing, poured out through the gate.

With smiles that were either sincere or false piled on their faces, they came forward one after another to greet him.

“Lord Paul! You have finally arrived! We were all waiting for you to take charge of the overall situation!”

“Lord Paul, the journey must have been hard on you!”

Paul reined in his horse, neatly dismounted, and handed the reins to his attendant.

He forced a faint smile onto his face, nodded to everyone, and explained,

“There were many troops, so assembly and logistical preparations took some additional time. I have made you all wait.”

As the host, Newell, a middle-aged man of medium build with shrewd eyes, hurriedly stepped forward to smooth things over.

“Of course, of course! Lord Paul shoulders a heavy responsibility. It is only proper for you to consider everything thoroughly!

Please, come in quickly. Everyone has been waiting for you to preside over the overall situation!”

Paul nodded. His gaze swept over the dozen or so faces before him, and after silently counting them, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

He suppressed his emotions and did not immediately ask questions. Surrounded by the crowd, he walked into the lord’s keep’s hall.

The hall had been simply arranged, with a long table and more than a dozen chairs placed inside.

Everyone roughly found their seats according to the strength and status of their respective city-states.

Naturally, Paul was offered the main seat. As soon as he sat down, he spoke directly.

“Where are General Iman and Sir Loka? Why have those two not arrived?”

Iman came from Hofgard, a federation known for forging and martial valor.

Loka occupied another important stronghold, and neither man’s military strength could be underestimated.

As soon as Paul finished speaking, a burly man sitting in a lower seat stood up. He wore a ferocious horned helmet and had an exceptionally powerful build.

He first scratched his helmet somewhat unnaturally, then answered in a rough voice.

“Reporting to Lord Paul, General Iman… he… he suddenly fell gravely ill and is bedridden. He could not come.

So I, Boulder Sessen, have come here on behalf of Hofgard, leading the soldiers of Kael City to gather here.”

Paul’s gaze fell on Sessen, and he pressed, “How many men did you bring?”

Boulder Sessen’s voice lowered somewhat, sounding a little lacking in confidence.

“Mm… well… around one thousand men…”

A trace of anger and disappointment flashed through Paul’s heart.

Hofgard was still as willful as ever. At such a critical moment, it had once again failed when it mattered.

Whether Iman was truly sick or only pretending, Paul had serious doubts.

But he did not show it. He merely nodded expressionlessly, indicating for Sessen to sit down.

At this moment, a noble from Valeria seated on Paul’s left spoke in a low voice with a mocking tone.

“Hmph. As expected of those barbarians from Hofgard. They have no spirit of contract at all. They cannot be relied upon at a critical moment!”

When Sessen heard this, he immediately glared at him, his fists clenching until they cracked.

But perhaps because he knew he was in the wrong, and because the occasion was inappropriate, he ultimately endured it.

He merely snorted heavily and turned his head away.

Seeing this, Newell hurriedly stepped in to smooth things over again. “Lord Paul, my lords, please calm down, calm down!

Now is the time to prioritize the greater situation! It was not easy for us to gather here.

Our goal is the same, so we must not damage our harmony over such a small matter. Heh…”

Paul raised his hand and stopped the possible quarrel, his gaze sweeping across the room.

“Enough. Let us set aside past matters for now. Everyone, the predicament we face was already explained very clearly during the previous meeting.

We now have no retreat and no reinforcements.

We must, and can only, rely on ourselves!

Unity is our only hope of surviving and seizing victory!”

He paused, then emphasized his tone. “I hope that, in the coming operation, a similar situation will not happen again!

Any act of violating our common agreement, preserving one’s own strength, or retreating before battle will be regarded as a betrayal of the Federation Alliance. Those responsible will bear the consequences themselves!”

Most of the nobles present all had their own thoughts.

But under the pressure of Paul’s gaze, they still nodded and voiced their agreement one after another, at least on the surface.

“Next,” Paul said, wasting no more time,

“according to our previous agreement, please report in order the actual number of troops each of you has brought this time.

I will conduct unified combat assignments and mission deployment based on the final total.”

The meeting entered its substantive stage.

A noble from a small city-state named Grant was the first to stand, his voice not very loud. “Grant State, five hundred troops.”

After that, the representatives of several other small city-states also stood one after another to report.

Their troop counts were mostly between five hundred and six hundred, which was already the greatest force they could squeeze out from the strongholds they occupied.

Then came the representatives of several stronger major city-states.

“Valeria, one thousand two hundred troops.”

“Mysocia, one thousand three hundred troops.”

Afterward, the representatives of the other three main city-states also reported their numbers one after another, with their troop counts all hovering around one thousand.

Paul quickly calculated in his heart.

Adding the three thousand men he had brought, as well as the one thousand men Hofgard had barely pieced together, and then adding the forces from those small city-states, the total number was roughly around twelve thousand.

Although this number did not reach his initially optimistic expectations,

it was still enough to launch several large-scale and passable siege battles.

If they were commanded properly and made good use of surprise, it was not as though they had no chance.

He nodded, and a hint of encouragement finally appeared on his face. “Good!

Although there have been some setbacks, we have still gathered a force sufficient to shake the Western Frontier!

Everyone, this battle opportunity is heaven-sent! It is an excellent chance given to us by the internal chaos of the Orlandians!

We must unite as one and seize it together!”

He stood up, pressed both hands against the tabletop, and swept his burning gaze across everyone present.

“I promise here that after Thorne City is breached, all the wealth, supplies, and even the population inside the city

will be fairly distributed strictly according to the proportion of troops each state has contributed! We of Wanliu will not take a single extra share!”

These words were like a spark dropped into boiling oil, instantly igniting the greed and enthusiasm of most of the nobles present.

“Good! Lord Paul is straightforward!”

“What Thorne City? We even took Storm City back then. Why should we care about this one?”

“Exactly! The people of the Western Frontier are unable to withstand a single blow! Hahaha!”

A wave of agreement and ambitious laughter immediately rang through the hall, as though Thorne City was already in their hands.

Paul looked at these allies, who had been stirred into motion by profit, and sneered inwardly. He raised his hand and pressed down the clamor.

“Enough! Save your excitement for the victory banquet!

Now, we will discuss the specific siege plan and the assignment of each unit’s tasks!

Time is tight. We must act as soon as possible.

The preliminary decision is that at dawn tomorrow, the entire army will set out. Our target—Thorne City!”

“Yes, Lord Paul!”

Everyone answered in unison, their voices filled with desire for wealth and fanaticism for the coming war.