Chapter 219 Unwanted Presence

Name:Restart:Untalented Man Author:


The morning sky of 18th April 303 Paign Era in a golden and pink hue, signalling the dawning of a new day. Kurt Ernest stirred from his slumber, knowing that another day of intense bombardment awaited him. 

Sigh-

It's been almost three weeks since General Braun left him in charge of the siege here. However, they have not yet made any breach of Tetherswest's defence.

Although they suffered little to no casualties, the lack of progress caused Blande soldiers to grow increasingly bored. The prolonged siege has turned into a battle of attrition.

A development that had taken its toll on their morale, dampening their spirits and diminishing their enthusiasm for the mission. 

Nevertheless, he put on his armour and carefully fastened each piece. The clinking of metal filled the air as he tightened the buckles and adjusted the straps, ensuring a snug fit that would offer him the necessary protection on the battlefield.

Stepping outside his tent, he could see the sun slowly rising on the horizon illuminating the landscape. The light rays broke through the dense fog, revealing the sprawling encampment that had become their temporary home. 

As he made his way towards the command centre, Kurt could see the weary faces of Blande soldiers. Their exhaustion was etched deep within their eyes.

Reaching the command centre, Kurt found himself surrounded by maps and strategic plans spread out across the tables. The tent was filled with discussion and murmurs as the officers scurried about, preparing for today's operations.

One soldier approached Kurt, "Sir, what's the plan for today?"

Kurt let out a long sigh. His gaze fixed on the maps before him. "What else do we do?" he replied with a hint of frustration. "Continue bombarding the city."

The soldier nodded and responded, "Yes, sir." 

Kurt's attention shifted to another pressing matter, "What about ration?"

"We still have some left and we expect the next batch to arrive today."

Kurt was relieved as soon as he heard the soldier's reply. The arrival of new supplies would lift up the spirit of the worn-out soldiers.

With the plans set, the soldiers continued their preparations for another day of relentless bombardment.

Outside, the sound of war drums reverberated through the camp. Their rhythmic beats attempt to heighten the soldiers' spirits.

Kurt took a moment to gaze upon the sprawling expanse of Tetherswest City while the soldiers worked tirelessly to load the trebuchets, carefully adjusting the tension in the ropes.

Swoosh-

The projectiles soared through the air, crashing against the stone walls of Tetherswest. Dust and debris filled the air and the ground shook with each impact.

After a few minutes, the deafening echo of the impact subsided, replaced by a momentary lull. The damage etched upon the walls of Tetherswest was revealed. However, it was no different from the previous days.

"Look!" one soldier exclaimed, pointing towards the horizon. His sudden shout caused many Blande soldiers to turn their attention away from the wall. The tension in the air was palpable.

Kurt Ernest stepped forward, his brow furrowed with worry. He observed the approaching force, trying to discern their intentions.

As the mysterious army drew nearer, their banners and armour became more visible. The entire army was covered in red, marching with discipline toward them.

It was clear they were not allies or reinforcements but the enemy. A very strong enemy. 

"Ah, sh*t!" cursed Kurt. The new presence on the battlefield sent a shockwave of unease through his veins. Questions swirled in his mind, demanding immediate answers. The main question is how they even come from the east direction. 

....

After one week of travelling from Wemeywesto, they finally arrived. Wilmot stood at the outskirts of Tetherswest, his gaze fixed upon the imposing trebuchet that loomed on the horizon. Its towering presence served as a sign of the ongoing battle. 

"Hmm...their numbers don't look like twenty-five thousand soldiers," Wilmot mused, his brow furrowed with curiosity. "Could it be that a portion of their forces has been deployed elsewhere?"

His second in command stepped forward, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "It's possible, sir," he replied. "Perhaps they've divided their troops to cover multiple fronts. We must investigate before making any move."

Wilmot nodded, a flicker of hope dancing in his eyes. If the enemy forces were indeed smaller than anticipated, Ryntum doesn't have to harass them and attack head-on instead. But, depending on assumption alone is dangerous. He needs a clear picture of the situation.

"Send out our scouts to investigate," Wilmot commanded, his voice firm. "We need detailed information on the enemy's positions and strengths."

Multiple scouts team embarked on their mission, disappearing into the shadows of the surrounding terrain. 

While waiting for the scouts to return, Wilmot issued the order to establish their camp. 

The soldiers swiftly went to work in unison despite knowing Blande forces is aware of their presence. Tents were pitched, creating a makeshift camp that would serve as their home during the upcoming conflict. 

Wilmot walked through the camp, observing the progress. The command tent stood at the heart of the camp, flanked by the officers' quarters and a field hospital. Supply carts were positioned nearby, stocked with provisions and weapons, ready to meet the needs of the soldiers.

A few hours later, Wilmot and his officers gathered for a briefing inside the command tent. Maps depicting the surrounding terrain were spread across a large table. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation.

The scouts returned from their mission. Their figures silhouetted against the entrance of the tent. Wilmot motioned for them to step forward and share their findings.

The soldiers, marked by visible exhaustion from their arduous journey stood before their commanding officer, ready to deliver their report. Wilmot listens intently as the scouts told about the estimated number of Blande forces and the allocation of their soldiers. 

"Thank you for your efforts," Wilmot spoke after the scouts finish reporting. As he expected, their number is far lower than the initial estimation. This begs the question about their role, whether they should assist Tetherswest or fight them in a straightforward manner. 

The officers weighed the options and the room was filled with intense debate, differing opinions, and strategic considerations. It was not until evening that they reach a consensus outcome.