Novel Full Chapter 704 - 396: Dog (2)
Chapter 704: Chapter 396: Dog (2)
The door slowly closed in the staggering footsteps of Morkan.
Isaac finally couldn’t help but speak: “Brother-in-law… Someone like Ackman, the meat he swallows, he won’t spit it out. Letting Morkan go… Isn’t this sending him to his death?”
Louis lifted his feather pen, writing something on the letterhead of the Red Tide Emblem, his expression calm to the point of indifference: “Isaac, the first thing you need to learn is not to rely on the enemy’s mercy.
I sent Morkan, not to have him retrieve the goods.”
He paused his pen, letting the ink spread slightly in the air.
“From the moment those goods were taken, they were already gone.”
Isaac was stunned.
Louis raised his eyes, his pupils as deep as the night of Northern Territory’s midwinter: “What I truly want is a reason.”
Then he turned his head to give orders: “Sako, go call Lambert over.”
The Barbarian Race youth nodded and went out.
Isaac lifted his head slightly, seeming somewhat curious, but dared not ask too much.
He could feel the atmosphere changing, shifting from the earlier lesson to a kind of silent battle intent.
Moments later, Lambert stepped in, his armor frosted by the wind and snow, yet he wore it straight.
He stopped half a step before Louis, clasped his fists and saluted: “My lord.”
Louis asked straightforwardly: “How many knights are currently in Frost Halberd City?”
Lambert’s eyes narrowed, immediately understanding Louis’s meaning.
He did not question nor hesitate: “Two thousand one hundred from the Red Tide Knight Order, six hundred Silver Fang Knights, plus knights accompanying various nobles, overall about one thousand one hundred.
If fully integrated, three thousand seven hundred riders are available, and that weapon has arrived.”
Louis smiled faintly, a smile carrying a certain cold implication that chilled the heart.
“Enough.”
The Ice Wolf at this moment let out a gentle growl, as if scenting the impending storm on the Snowfield.
……
The war conference room on the top floor of Gray Stone Fortress.
On the wall, the gigantic map of Northern Territory was slashed with red lines, resembling a dissected beast.
Ackman stood before the map, his build burly, like a standing grizzly bear.
His finger lightly tapped on a parchment scroll, the “Northern Territory United Defense Draft” he personally wrote.
The firelight cast on half his face, making his eyes seem dark and greedy.
Empire, Prince, Nobility… These words were not as real to him as a hereditary duke.
He was not loyal to the Second Prince; the Second Prince was but a temporary stepping stone he could use.
What he aimed to replace was Duke Edmund’s position.
Just short of a reason to ignite.
That batch of “requisitioned” Morkan goods was bait and also a probe.
If Louis remained silent, it indicated the Red Tide was merely a paper tiger.
If he dared to show up… It would provide a reason to accuse him of interfering in military affairs and abusing military power.
Ackman’s lips curled into a cold smile.
While he was about to continue scrutinizing the map, hurried footsteps sounded from the doorway.
The atmosphere in the hall of Gray Stone Fortress suddenly tightened.
Two soldiers pushed a shivering man inside — a baron from the Morkan family.
Regardless of the ground’s frost, he fell to his knees before Ackman’s feet, his body bending like a frozen wild dog, yet he squeezed out a smile of servitude.
“Sir Legion Commander… It was my people from Morkan that didn’t do well enough, disturbing your esteemed army. I’m foolish, not understanding the profound strategic intentions of your military maneuvers… I’m here to offer deep apologies.”
Morkan spoke, intentionally lowering his voice, softening it like the tones of nobility pleading in the southern courts, even the end of sentences carrying a hint of flattery.
“I hope your lordship discerns… My small caravan is but a grain of sand in the Northern Territory, insignificant compared to your army’s mighty reputation, insignificant, indeed…”
He quickly scrambled forward, taking out a pouch of gemstones from his bosom, raising it high with both hands, allowing them to emit the brightest reflections in the firelight, as if willing to offer himself entirely at Ackman’s nod.
“This small gift… Please accept, my lord. Brothers tirelessly train and guard day and night; my heart is full of admiration. If that batch of goods might… um… be symbolically returned somewhat, not for the value, just for me to report back… On any future errands from you, the Morkan family will never dare slack!”
His words were extremely flattering and complimentary, elevating Ackman almost as the co-ruler of Northern Territory, every sentence calling out “Your lordship’s brilliance,” “Your lordship’s mighty name,” even his tone as if groveling at the boot tips.
Ackman lowered his head, looked at the gemstone pouch on the ground, his brow indeed twitched.
He was not entirely devoid of desire.
This noble, lowly to the dust yet exceptionally skilled in pleasing through speech, did indeed meet his taste.
If Morkan were smarter at normal times, more cautious, perhaps Ackman might have merely brushed him off with some empty words.
After all, keeping such talking fat sheep could yield more than killing them.
Yet this time, he was not here for such petty gains.
“The earlier goods… If returned twenty percent… No, no, a mere ten percent, my lord, I’d be content! In the future, I’d surely praise you as the true guardian of the Northern Territory…” But Morkan knew nothing of Ackman’s true intentions and continued prattling.
The pouch of gemstones was kicked away by Ackman, bouncing against a pillar, gems scattered with crisp tinkling sounds.
“Misunderstanding?” Ackman looked down at him, his tone like cold iron striking, “Are you implying I stole your things?”
Cold sweat instantly burst from Morkan, his body collapsing further, his head nearly buried in the ground: “No, no, no! Absolutely not! It’s requisition! It’s an honor! I… I’m here to seek your guidance and enlightenment…”