A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor-Chapter 2097: King of the Land - Part 2

The white cloth that Lady Blackthorn had given him reddened as it dried off the last of the blood water. Once Oliver was satisfied that it was as clean as he could get it without polishing and sharpening the weapon, he threaded it back inside his unbuckled sheath, and heaved in a deep sigh, allowing the tension to drain ever so slightly from his shoulders.

The sky was darkening, and around him, the men of the Winged Unit were largely unconscious. Their exhaustion had been at its peak the day before. The sheer adrenaline of the first fortress that they had captured had demanded much from their spirits. In the ride to the next castle, their blood had thinned, along with their focus, and the properness of their fatigue had begun to manifest itself. Even a deep sleep within castled walls had not allowed them to fully recover, or even approach it. Their bodies were tired, indeed, but it was their minds and hearts that had truly suffered. The pressures of combat, to face down so many men that had come in search of their lives – that was what truly drove a soldier to exhaustion.

And once more, Oliver had seen them pushed.

"Arise," he’d told them, striding into their quarters, allowing the spring sunshine in after him, as he swung open a heavy door. "There is work to be done." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Groans had met him. Men in the midst of dreams were not likely to tell the difference between the voice of their King and the voice of their sergeant. They only knew that a man had disturbed the slumber that they desired so much more of.

Even when they were on their feet, the groans did not abate. If anything, they increased in intensity, when they had felt the physical strain of the day before. Their legs and thighs were particularly sore from a prolonged time in the saddle, and none were excited to hear that they would be riding further, for another castle along the Wyndon border.

"They’ll surely be shocked to hear all that we have achieved," Edward said deeply, keeping his voice level in the quiet of the forest, to ensure he did not disturb those slumbering men. They hadn’t been particularly happy again to abandon the walls that they had just captured, in order to return to the wild, but Oliver had other thoughts.

A castle in which they were settled was a show of strength – all would know they were there. A forest that they had entered, however, as dense as this one was, covering a few hundred square miles, they were something else entirely. They ceased to be physical entities, and transformed entirely into potential. They were a threat as large as the forest was hidden. They could strike and threaten wherever the trees did conceal them.

"Perhaps," Oliver said mildly. For both the newly captured castles, he had seen the same strategy – or policy – dealt out as he had in Durem. He’d taken care that the civilians were not harmed. He’d seen the defenders slain swiftly and ably, as soon as they had made their way past the front gate – which once more, did not turn out to be terribly difficult. Especially considering in Nosburg, soldiers were already being mobilised in the field to deal with the distress message from Durem that been sent by crow. Speed had seen them inside the walls more quickly than strategy had.

And once those walls were captured, their defensive capacities were tarnished. The large gates were all burned – then, no special effort was made to hold the settlements. They had left just as quickly as they had come, as if they cared not at all for the progress they were making on the campaign map.

They’d seen four thousand men slain for their work. Four thousand defenders less that the Wyndon King had to summon to support his armies. That was progress worth celebrating, something physical that they could add to the tally of the already captured castles.

Indeed, that was Oliver’s motivation in setting after the capture of the castles in the first place. So he had to wonder why it had become increasingly evident that there was a weakness in what he was achieving.

Perhaps not evident in the sense of the logical. But the warning sign that built up in his chest. A sense for the flow of the battlefield, he supposed. Though this was a far larger battlefield than he had ever fought on. It was a far cry from the single duels that he had once fought. Now his battlefield was the entirety of the Emerson Kingdom that he had captured and declared his own to defend.

With how easily they were running through fortress after fortress, there was the temptation to keep up their efforts. To slay as many men as they could, and to maim as many fortresses as they were able to. There would soon come a point where the Wyndon builders who would be sent to see the repairs done could no longer even threaten to keep up. That ought to be the point in which Oliver found himself at his mightiest.

He might even have stayed in Helem Castle that they’d captured that day. It would have put him in view of another fortress that they might capture along the Wyndon border. He could have rushed through, before the High King managed to mobilise his armies.

Something held him back from doing that, however. Like the darkness that closed in on their current encampment – with not a single fire yet lit, and only wool blankets to keep the slumbering men warm – there was that murky field of the unknown that Oliver could not pierce.

He eyed the dark with ferocity, as if in beating it back with his gaze, he might be able to beat back his current uncertainty.

"You should rest as well, Your Highness," Lady Blackthorn spoke, her voice coming far too close and far too suddenly that it made Oliver jump.

He grunted in reply, his mind still half elsewhere. In his head, he had a certain idea of the magnitude of the enemy. The man that they called Lord Blake. As a strategist, he was undoubtedly Oliver’s superior. Where Oliver’s advantage actually lay, he knew not. It was difficult to point to recent events, and see just where he had done well. For it could have been that he had already made a fatal blunder that it was difficult to come back from.