Chapter 332: March

Timothy and his cavalry stopped in front of an empty village.

Since they had left Cardiff City, they had been searching for disaster victims in Preston and guiding them to Cardiff City and Brambleford.

They had done well these past few days and helped many people.

It was already noon, and Timothy was getting ready to let the soldiers rest and feed their horses.

Just then, a scout came rushing from afar. His face was full of worry as he said. "Captain, we found a large group of rebels about five miles away. It looks like they’re heading toward Cardiff City."

Timothy had just taken a bun from his bag, but he quickly put it back and shouted to the soldiers. "Everyone, gather up and follow me!"

With that, he turned his horse and followed the scout toward the nearby village of Myrre, which was marked on the map.

The cavalry quickly got ready. Benjamin had given him this many cavalry just in case they ran into rebels. Now, there was no time to worry about anything else. The Brambleford army had already gone to Preston. If Cardiff City was surrounded by rebels, the Brambleford army would lose their supply route.

And those hungry rebels wouldn’t care whose supply line it was.

The soldiers mounted up and followed Timothy to Myrre Village.

When they arrived, they all went silent. On the road to Cardiff City, crowds of rebels were moving slowly.

The rebel line stretched as far as they could see, from the south to the north, making their skin crawl.

"Captain, look. That’s the King’s flag." A soldier said.

Timothy looked through his telescope. Sure enough, the flags of the King were everywhere in the marching line. At the front were common people carrying all kinds of weapons, and at the back were others carrying bags or pushing wheelbarrows.

But the carts had very little food.

"There must be three or four hundred thousand of them." One general said with worry. "Cardiff City isn’t like Dunmere City. Its walls are only five meters high, and there are fewer than ten thousand guards. What should we do?"

Timothy frowned deeply. "Send someone to inform His Highness and the governor right away. These people are too dangerous. The King is using the people as his shield. No one knows what he’s really thinking. If he is loyal, maybe we can talk him into letting the people lay down their weapons and follow His Highness. But if he has evil intentions, then we’re in big trouble."

The other generals nodded.

Timothy paused, then said. "We’re returning to Cardiff City now, just in case."

He turned his horse around and took another road back to Cardiff City.

A day later, the news reached the governor’s mansion.

When Simon and Aiden heard the report, they were shocked.

"My Lord, if three hundred thousand rebels surround Cardiff City, General Benjamin’s supply line will be in danger. We must make sure Cardiff City stays safe."

Simon also understood how serious the situation was.

No one really knew what kind of person the King was, not even Prince Augustus. They only knew that he had taken over several cities with rebels and opened food stores to help disaster victims.

Because of this, more and more people from Preston were joining him. It was said that his army now had five or six hundred thousand people.

"I understand. But we don’t know what he really wants. If he plans to take our cities and give away the food again, what do we do?"

Aiden said seriously. "If the King means harm, then he’s a traitor. While Your Highness is leading troops to fight the reavers, he’s heading toward Cardiff City. That’s treason!"

Simon nodded. If the King ignored the greater good and only cared about his own comfort and power, then Simon would not show mercy.

Over the past month, the machinery department had delivered another three thousand flintlock rifles. Simon said to Aiden. "Cardiff City is very important. We can’t wait. Tomorrow we’ll lead three thousand gunners to Cardiff City."

Although the rifles were newly delivered and the soldiers had only trained for about a week, they weren’t new recruits; they were veterans from the Battle of Dunmere.

The next day, Simon and Aiden personally led the troops toward Cardiff City.

Because they were infantry, it took three days to get there. Based on Timothy’s message, the King’s army was about to arrive too.

Once at Cardiff City, Simon checked the city’s defenses. There were six thousand local soldiers, five thousand cavalry led by Timothy, and his own three thousand gunners, fourteen thousand troops in total.

Both the cavalry and gunners were elite, and the local troops weren’t weak either. Simon felt a bit more confident.

"But the city walls are too low." He muttered.

Looking at the five-meter-high walls of the small city, Simon frowned. Though Cardiff City was a small place, it had now become the lifeline of their supply route.

It was already evening, and reports were coming in more and more often. Each one said the rebels were getting closer.

As the sun sank below the horizon, Simon saw the massive wave of people arriving.

The crowd stretched to the horizon. From above, they looked like an army of ants on the move.

The sight put huge pressure on the city’s defenders.

Simon and Aiden exchanged a look; both of them were deeply worried.

The people stopped about ten meters outside the city. The wide road was packed with armed civilians. Their faces were cold and expressionless as they stared at the city wall.

"Soldier, sir, open the gates. Didn’t you say Cardiff City was taking in the people? We’re from Preston and starving. Let us in for a bite to eat."

A tall young man with a hoarse voice stepped forward, resting a shovel-like weapon on his shoulder.

"You can come in, but you have to drop your weapons and enter in small groups." Timothy shouted back.

"Soldier, sir, these weapons are for fighting corrupt officials. What are you so afraid of? Enough talk, open the gate. These hundreds of thousands of people are all counting on eating tonight."

The young man sniffed, and his eyes turned sharp.

Timothy frowned back at him. His men had fought the northern reavers directly; how could they be scared of a group of rebels?

He was about to speak when Simon suddenly raised his voice: "Where is the King? Can he come speak to me?"

"The king? Who are you?" The young man asked.

"I am Prince Simon," Simon replied loudly. He didn’t want to fight his own people unless there was no choice.

"Prince Simon?" The young man looked shocked.