Chapter 205

“Bake the bread!”General Olf of Martai had no intention of providing substandard black bread, water mixed with sour wine, or stale-smelling jerky and fruit just because it was a supply issue.

He had several highly skilled Battalion Commanders under his command, one of whom led a unit he personally trained.

They were called the Furnace Unit.

“Pile up the stones and apply mud to the gaps.”

The Furnace Unit lived up to its name.

After establishing a supply base, they would build furnaces there and bake bread.

In a way, it was a half-mad endeavor, but General Olf knew better than anyone the importance of good food.

And now, the battlefield was perfect for deploying the Furnace Unit.

Conditions for using the Furnace Unit were restrictive.

They were useless in short-term battles or offensives.

But in a siege, especially a prolonged one, the Furnace Unit shone brightly.

It was a well-known fact that well-fed soldiers fought better.

This was something famous strategists unanimously agreed upon, and Olf followed this advice religiously.

Thus, the Furnace Unit of Martai started emitting smoke.

They burned firewood, mixed water with the flour they had brought, and began making dough.

In less than a day, a savory smell spread all around.

“Eat well! Mangonels? We don’t need those!”

Olf personally walked among the soldiers, encouraging them.

“Who are we?”

“Lions of the East!”

The soldiers responded enthusiastically. Martai’s morale was unbroken.

While the commander’s direct involvement played a part, the most important factor was the bread.

Among the soldiers baking bread, some were renowned for their culinary skills even in Martai.

Many of them planned to continue running bakeries when they returned to the city.

Martai had vast wheat fields in the east of the city, known for producing high-quality wheat.

The rainfall was just right, and these fields were once called the Fields of Blood, a place of numerous battles over the decades.

The numerous corpses of humans and animals had made the soil fertile.

Although the fields had been transformed by the hands of a farming enthusiast, the land had a storied history.

Thanks to this fertility, Martai had been cultivating wheat for a long time, leading to a well-developed bread culture and various wheat-based foods.

There is a saying that food determines status, and in the central continent, white bread was a symbol of wealth.

But Martai was different.

Abundant wheat production made white bread a daily staple.

With over 30 years of history, it was natural for master bakers to emerge.

Some of them even opened bakeries in the central capital.

This bread was one of Martai’s prides.

As Olf returned to his headquarters and was reviewing plans, he received urgent news.

It was bad news.

“The supply base has been attacked.”

“Attacked?”

For Martai, the most crucial thing now was the supply.

What use was it to besiege if they ended up starving?

The supreme commander of Martai, called General, had assigned his most trusted men to the supply unit.

Three Battalion Commanders, plus the Guard Captain, a total of four trusted and skilled officers.

Olf had placed the supply unit under the command of the second Battalion Commander, the quickest thinker and most perceptive of them.

He was not one to take anything lightly.

The messenger was sweating profusely.

“Explain in detail!”

When Olf spoke fiercely, the messenger swallowed and continued.

“Two enemy soldiers and a black panther approached, stole bread from the oven, and set a few tents on fire.”

“These idiots?”

Olf was as furious as he was about the tents catching fire.

Why wouldn’t he be?

He knew the importance of the supply line, which was why he had diverted some of his forces.

Moreover, the enemy was trapped. How formidable could the ones sneaking out to attack be?

The ones who had destroyed the mangonels before?

He would welcome them if they showed up.

As the fire of anger blazed in the commander’s eyes, the messenger couldn’t continue speaking.

‘Zimmer, you fool, you weren’t just spacing out and got caught, were you?’

The second Battalion Commander’s name was Zimmer. Smart, quick-witted, and meticulous, he rarely made mistakes.

But why hadn’t he reported this himself?

“Where is Zimmer?”

The messenger quickly replied at the mention of the second Battalion Commander’s name.

“He said he was pursuing the attackers.”

At the messenger’s words, Olf exhaled a few times before speaking.

“Tighten the security! If it happens again, I will not forgive you.”

In battles, a commander who loses can be forgiven, but a commander who is lax in security cannot.

* * *

Encrid raided the supply base effortlessly.

Literally ‘effortlessly’.

“Shall we go?”

“Let’s do it.”

There was nothing difficult about it. Smoke billowed above their heads, and tents were everywhere.

The guards were numerous and there were no apparent gaps, but that wasn’t a problem.

“Kraaa.”

Esther went first.

The panther charged forward, followed by Encrid and Rem.

Esther’s movements seemed lighter than usual.

With a swipe of her paw, she half-severed an enemy soldier’s shin, and with a flick of her tail, she struck their heads, causing their eyes to roll wildly.

“Attack!”

There was no need to drag it out. Encrid rushed in and slit the throats of a couple of enemies, and amidst the smell of blood, the savory aroma hit his nose.

In fact, the savory smell had been teasing his senses for a while now.

Taking advantage of the enemy’s confusion, Jaxon set several tents on fire, and Encrid, along with Rem, grabbed a few pieces of bread and made their escape.

They deliberately took a route through the forest on their way back.

If the enemy pursued on horseback, there would be no escape. But on foot, they could easily outrun them.

Their stamina was vastly superior.

After running for several hours without rest, the pursuers were nowhere to be seen.

“We should’ve just slaughtered them all.”

Rem said regretfully, clicking his tongue. Encrid shook his head.

“This much is enough.”

They returned and distributed the bread.

“You can report it the next day.”

The sentry had said on their way back. Marcus, the Battalion Commander, had already thought ahead for them.

Encrid, Rem, and Jaxon took a well-deserved rest and slept soundly.

It was a very bright and hot morning on the third day of the battle.

The summer sun rose early, so after finishing his morning training in the sunlight, Encrid came in after washing up.

“The bread tastes fantastic!”

Krais remarked with renewed admiration.

Well, it was delicious.

“Don’t eat too much.”

Encrid tapped Krais on the back of the head and went to find the Battalion Commander to report.

He saw something being cooked in a pot right under the fortress wall.

The commanders were all gathered around the bubbling stew.

Their armor was still clean since they hadn’t fought a single battle yet.

In contrast, Encrid’s armor was stained with blood. Although he had wiped it, the stains remained.

“So, you checked out the supply base?”

Marcus asked, sitting on a backless wooden chair.

“While I was there, I set a few fires.”

“I see.”

Marcus just nodded, and the Fairy Company Commander beside him muttered.

“Is it a hobby or a specialty?”



She was talking about setting fires.

Encrid had been thinking that setting fires was becoming a habit, but what better way to damage a supply base than by setting it on fire?

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The First Company Commander offered, holding up a ladle of stew. The smell was quite enticing.

“Who cooked this?”

As Encrid spoke, the Border Guard Commander brought over a chair for him.

It was a wooden chair without a backrest, just like the one the Battalion Commander had.

As he sat and took in the aroma of the stew, he thought it would taste twice as good if dipped with bread.

“Hold on a moment.”

Encrid fetched the bread they had stolen.

It was a baguette, hard on the outside and soft on the inside, well-baked, savory, and crispy.

“Here.”

When they broke the baguette and dipped it into the stew.

“Mmm, excellent.”

The First Company Commander spoke with rare enthusiasm, his cheeks flushed.

Wasn’t he known to be a foodie?

Krais had mentioned something along those lines.

Encrid tasted it as well. It was delicious.

The crust of the bread felt hard, but as soon as he bit into it, it crumbled softly, the white interior mixing with his saliva.

Meanwhile, the rich stew broth swirled around in his mouth.

It was truly a wonderful taste.

“So, they were well-prepared?”

“They plan to starve us out after isolating us. They even built furnaces to bake bread.”

“Olf’s reputation as a warmonger seems well-deserved.”

Marcus spoke with a smirk, exuding confidence.

Their forces were still superior.

They had cavalry and even the luxury of setting up furnaces.

Despite this, Marcus remained unflustered. Encrid now understood what Marcus believed in.

He planned to do his part to honor that belief.

If he didn’t step up, he wouldn’t be able to protect even his seasoned jerky or orange marmalade.

Food was important.

That was why everyone was busy eating without a word.

While they were eating, two nobles approached.

Their clothes were as clean as the armor of the commanders.

One of them, with a noticeably wider forehead, spoke.

“Have you considered peace?”

The relatively younger noble behind him also spoke.

“Considering the stark difference in power, if we could resolve this through negotiation somehow…”

Most of the nobles in the Border Guard were those who had bought their titles or those who had lost their ancestral positions and remained barons.

What would bring high-ranking nobles here?

But the situation had changed significantly.

Once the country stabilizes, even Count or Viscount might get involved here.

Before that could happen, Viscount Bentra and other nobles were already trying to stake their claim.

Encrid didn’t know much about politics and didn’t care to, but thanks to Big Eyes Krais, he had a rough idea.

That guy’s chatter was incessant.

But really, it didn’t seem important.

If anyone attacked, they just needed to fend them off.

Combat, swords, fighting, battles, the battlefield.

Those things gave Encrid a strange thrill.

‘I guess I have a bad taste too.’

Why did his heart race at the thought of battle and fighting?

No, from the beginning, he had longed for and admired such things, which is why he wanted to become a Knight.

It wasn’t because he had some grand vision or dream. It started with imagining himself charging across the battlefield.

After a brief moment of reflection, Marcus looked at the two nobles and chuckled.

“Why? Now that the city looks like it might grow, do you think you’ll become something too? So, instead of fighting Martai, you’d prefer to make peace and claim that you were at the center of that peace?”

Is that it? Encrid let it pass over him, but Krais would have nodded in agreement.

Marcus was quite perceptive politically, even if he didn’t know much else. He had hit the nail on the head.

“Shut your mouths and go inside. If you don’t want to die, thank this named hero here.”

He was a Company Commander now, but he had started as an ordinary soldier.

Moreover, he came from some rural village and joined the army to earn a living.

The nobles had no reason to bow their heads to Encrid.

He was a hero to the soldiers, not to the nobles.

“Hmph, I’ve said my piece.”

“It was a proposal, a proposal. We made it because the enemy’s forces seem dangerous.”

The two nobles rambled, and Marcus waved them off.

After they left, Marcus picked up a wooden bowl, slurped some stew, and then spoke.

“They’re the kind of guys you just want to cut down. Don’t you agree?”

He was speaking to Encrid.

“Killing nobles is a serious crime.”

Encrid replied, and Marcus continued nonchalantly.

“We could challenge them to a duel and accidentally kill them.”

“Who would accept the Commander’s duel challenge? They’d just appoint a proxy.”

This was the First Company Commander’s reply.

“That’s just a manner of speaking.”

Listening to this, Encrid brought up a question that had arisen in his mind.

“What is a ‘named hero’?”

“It was impressive. An Independent Company Commander.”

Instead of answering, Marcus gave a thumbs up.

“I’m thinking of imitating it myself later.”

The First Company Commander chimed in from the side.

The Border Guard Commander just nodded.

Encrid felt no shame in what he had done out of a sense of bravado.

He just thought that these guys were a bit, really just a bit, annoying.

“So, what’s the plan for next?”

They were nearly finished eating. As they were about to stand up, Marcus asked,

“How many more times are you planning to go?”

“A few more times.”

The first time was an unexpected strike, but the second time wouldn’t be. They would be prepared.

No matter how skilled Encrid was, or how wildly Rem wielded his axe, they wouldn’t survive if they were surrounded.

“Something is bugging me.”

Encrid replied. It wasn’t an empty statement. When he raided the supply base, after setting a few tents on fire and on his way back, he felt something peculiar.

It was a matter of intuition and sixth sense.

‘It felt like Krais hiding a coin.’

It was the same feeling he had when he saw Krais sneaking a few coins away.

He felt that the enemy was hiding something more.

He wanted to check it out.

He even named the operation.

The ‘Tap-Tap Knock-Knock’ operation.

The idea was to ‘tap’ them, and if an opportunity presented itself, to ‘knock’ them down. That was the gist of the operation.

Encrid came up with the basic plan, and Krais filled in the details.

When they returned to the barracks and discussed when to go and where to strike with Krais,

“Then let’s go at sunrise this time.”

Krais said. It was a calm suggestion, but anyone with a bit of military knowledge would have thought it brilliant.

But Encrid thought it was reasonable.

They had attacked at night before, so this time they would try it in broad daylight. It seemed like a good plan.

“It sounds fun, brother.”

Audin responded after hearing the plan.



The key to this operation was the ‘Bear’.

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