vstars Chapter 627 The 2rd Front
Chapter 627 The 2rd Front
After the others left the tent one by one, the heavy canvas curtain swayed in the wind, stirring up fine dust. The remaining dozen or so cavalry officers and mercenary leader exchanged glances.
General Laban did not speak immediately. He stood in front of the sand table with his hands behind his back. The shadow cast on his angular profile deepened the lines under his brow bone, like a crack carved into rock.
"You should all be aware of this."
Laban finally spoke, his voice low and deep, like sparks rolling across an anvil. He slowly turned around, his gaze sweeping over everyone's expressions like a blade.
"Rona City is not a bone that can be easily gnawed. Before being occupied by Yoda, Rona City was already the largest city in Rona Territory. After Yoda came, he turned Rona City into a hedgehog. The city walls are three zhang high, the moat is two zhang wide, and the stockpiled grain is enough to last for half a year, not to mention that there are tens of thousands of permanent garrison troops in the city."
"Helderland's military advisors and I have conducted seven simulations; a frontal assault would only result in the needless deaths of our brothers. But if we cut off the Yodas' supply lines..."
A swarm of bees immediately filled the tent, and most people understood what Laban wanted them to do. One mercenary leader couldn't help but take a half step forward, then abruptly stopped, his armor and iron boots clattering together.
"What the General means is..."
“Send a cavalry unit around the cliff pass on the east side of Rhône.”
Laban then began to explain his battle plan.
"Cross the river at the shallows upstream and establish a temporary outpost in the middle of the supply line. Attack the grain carts and patrols at night. By next spring, when my main force has completed the encirclement of Rona, we will cooperate with the main battlefield to block Yoda's reinforcements."
“But General,” a cavalry captain said, frowning. His stubble was glistening with sweat under the lamplight, and his voice was hesitant.
"That area is mostly primeval forest, with complex terrain. The Yoda people must have deployed patrols along the supply line, and we have very little map information about that area. The situation is very unfavorable for us."
"That's why I need people who dare to fight."
Laban interrupted him, his piercing gaze sweeping over the crowd.
He beckoned a servant, who quickly stepped forward carrying a roll of parchment. The parchment gleamed softly under the light, and was covered with dense markings of various information and numbers.
"This is a preliminary plan."
Laban unfolded the map, which showed the entire territory of Ronna, with the border area designated as part of Yoda's occupied territory divided into more than a dozen sections.
“Your forces are of varying sizes, so I will assign defense zones according to the number of personnel.”
His voice suddenly lowered, carrying an undeniable sense of pressure.
"But remember, wherever you are, if the Yodas discover that the supply lines have been cut, they will definitely mobilize their troops to investigate. You must be prepared to be surrounded."
"Now, everyone, please choose your defense zone."
After Laban finished speaking, the atmosphere in the tent became as cold as winter. Not only did no one speak, but most people's faces were deathly pale.
Laban sighed inwardly upon seeing this. He understood that the task was indeed difficult, but the fact that not a single one of the nobles who had always been so eager to contribute to the military was willing to take on the mission made him certain that the era of nobles charging into battle was truly over.
"General."
A clear voice suddenly came from the corner, like a sharp sword cutting through the cold atmosphere. Everyone turned their heads in unison and saw Griffith walking forward slowly. His long white hair shone with a soft silver light under the candlelight, like a beam of moonlight piercing through thick dark clouds, which was particularly eye-catching in the dim tent.
He raised his head slightly, his azure eyes looking directly at Laban, his voice clear and steady, each word like a nail hammering into the tent.
Can I choose the defense zone first?
"can."
Laban squinted at the young man. Griffith was tall and slender, yet upright like a pine tree. His armor, though old, was polished to a gleaming shine.
In his eyes, Griffith, a mercenary leader, was nothing more than someone who wanted to choose a region that Yoda wouldn't focus on, so that he could preserve his mercenary group.
Griffith approached the map, pondered for a moment, then pointed to the northeastern part of Yoda's territory and asked:
"I want the northeastern part of the Rona territory."
His voice was soft, yet it was like a hammer striking an iron plate, creating an invisible ripple in the tent.
"This is the central node of Yoda's supply line and the only way to the southern battlefield of Yoda. If we control this place, not only the city of Rona, but the entire Rona territory will have a problem with the allocation of supplies."
The tent fell silent instantly, so quiet you could hear the crackling of the torches. Laban's hand froze in mid-air as he stared at the spot Griffiths was pointing to, his pupils slightly contracting. What truly made Laban's pupils constrict, besides Griffiths's unexpected action, was the calm resolve on Griffiths's face. There was no blind impulsiveness, nor any eagerness to claim credit; it was as if he were simply stating something perfectly ordinary.
"What did you say?"
Laban took a half step forward, the soles of his boots grinding against the edges of the map, and his voice suddenly rose, trembling slightly, not from fear, but from being awestruck by Griffith's courage.
"Are you crazy?"
One of the mercenary leaders couldn't help but mutter to himself.
"Yoda's army is everywhere there, like ants. Going there is just suicide!"
Griffith ignored the gasps of those around him, his azure eyes fixed on Laban:
“General, the worst thing for a supply line is to cut off the junction. I’ve stationed my men near that supply route, which will allow us to burn the main supply convoys, intercept Yoda’s cavalry’s return reinforcements, and threaten Yoda’s troops that are heading south to reinforce Rona City.”
He raised his hand and gestured towards the valley on the map.
"There are cliffs on both sides here, and only a narrow path can be passed through in the middle. It is easy to defend and difficult to attack. As long as we hold this pass, the grain that the Yoda people transport from the east will not be able to enter Rona City, and the reinforcements sent from the south will have to detour for half a month."
Laban stared at Griffith's young face, trying to find something beyond madness in those deep blue eyes, but he only saw calm, an almost cold calm, as if what lay before him was not a battlefield where death was a near certainty, but rather the Hawk's usual training range.
Do you know how many Yoda troops are in that area?
Laban asked.
"At least two knightly orders, five or six infantry regiments, plus some patrols and the like. Once we attract the attention of the other side, there will only be one outcome: being surrounded and annihilated."
"Therefore."
Griffiths took a half step forward, his long white hair gleaming silver in the firelight.
"The Yodas never expected us to venture into their heartland. They thought we would ambush them from a safe place, but they didn't know we would cut off their throat."
Laban stared at Griffith for a long time, as if trying to see through the young man's intentions.
Finally, he took a deep breath and slowly nodded:
"Fine, since you want to choose the hardest bone..."
He strode back to the map and pressed his fingertip heavily against a valley in the northeastern part of the Rona territory, near a major transportation route.
"Here's a 'good place' for you."
Griffith knelt on one knee, placed his right hand on his chest, and gave a standard military salute.
"Yes, General."
Laban waved his hand, signaling him to stand up, but his gaze remained fixed on the young face, filled with complex emotions: admiration, worry, and above all, respect for the young man's courage and determination.
"Remember, before next spring, I want to see no supply trains entering the city of Rona."
He paused and added.
"If you return alive, I will personally petition the king for your honor, and your name will be known throughout Midland, making you a hero in the eyes of the people."
Griffith straightened up, his gaze sweeping over the complex expressions on the faces of the people in the tent—jealousy, disdain, and, above all, schadenfreude, as if he were looking at someone about to die.
But he merely nodded slightly, turned, and walked toward the tent exit. The moment he lifted the curtain, the afternoon sun pierced through like golden arrows. At that moment, Griffith looked like an angel about to ascend to heaven.
Inside the tent, Laban watched Griffith's departing figure. He recalled those deep blue eyes from earlier, calm as a bottomless lake, but he felt that Griffith's inner self could not possibly be so calm.
Heldran's military advisor once said that the most terrifying thing in war is not a well-equipped army, but those reckless madmen.
At that moment, he suddenly realized that he might have just unleashed a wild beast, a beast that would stop at nothing to win.