Wilmot retired to his quarters, his mind brimming with a sense of accomplishment.
Sitting at his desk, a flickering candle casting a warm glow upon the paper, Wilmot took his quill in hand.
The ink flowed smoothly as he carefully crafted a letter, intending to inform the king of the resounding success of their operation and the submission of Tetherswest.
The words danced across the page, capturing the essence of the triumph. He emphasized the significance of Ryntum's growing influence and authority over the region. Thanks to their success in war, people in the duchy viewed Ryntum as their saviour.
With each stroke of the quill, he describes the event that happened in the past few days in great detail.
He then sealed the letter with wax and entrusted it to a trusted messenger, who would embark on a journey to Bideford, delivering the news of their success to the king.
As the messenger rode off into the fading daylight, Wilmot leaned back in his chair. He didn't know when would his mission be next. So, he will take this chance to rest.
....
Dalfos has fallen. The once bustling city is now occupied by seventy-six thousand troops of Barlia's army.
When both forces of Lieutenant General Sarika Klover and General Victor Shena arrive at Dalfos, the city was empty.
The streets of Dalfos echoed with emptiness. The silence was punctuated only by the occasional creaking of wooden structures swaying in the breeze.
Deserted houses stood as silent witnesses to the hasty departure of the city's inhabitants, leaving behind an eerie sense of abandonment.
Though it seems like a cowardly move, the city stood no chance against them. There's no possible way they could repel such a massive army with meagre numbers.
Without facing any resistance, Barlia's army was quick to settle into their new surroundings. They first established a strong presence throughout the city, patrolling its streets and fortifying key positions.
The occupation of Dalfos by Barlia's army didn't progress further to the next target due to supply issues. The vast number of troops stationed in the city required a constant stream of provisions and the logistics of managing such a large force in a foreign territory presented a challenge.
Without adequate supplies, it would be imprudent to embark on any further military campaigns. As such, they anxiously awaited a new batch of supplies from Eikadir, a crucial lifeline that would alleviate their predicament.
Days turned into weeks as Barlia's army maintained its hold on Dalfos.
Today, a new batch of supplies was expected to arrive.
Lieutenant General Sarika Klover and her superior, General Victor Shena, stood at the city gate awaiting the arrival.
However, morning gradually turns into afternoon, and still, there was no sign of their supplies. The sky, once bathed in the soft hues of dawn, now transitioned into a blazing expanse of azure.
They exchanged worried glances.
"Where the hell are they?" Sarika broke the silence with her grumble. Her eyes scanned the horizon while her foot tapped the ground impatiently.
Victor glanced at Sarika, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Patience, young girl. They're making their way here. Sooner or later, they will arrive."
Sarika huffed, crossing her arms. "I know, I know. But we can't afford any delays. Our troops have been running on fumes for far too long."
"Is it them or you?" he chuckled. "I've heard whispers about the conflict within the Klover family. Seems like your position as the heir to the duchy is at risk."
"Shut up, Victor!" Sarika's frustration flared. She shot Victor an icy glare. "My family's matter has nothing to do with you. Once I'm done with these people in the south, I will make a move on those bastards."
"Relax, relax. You don't need to be so angry." Victor shrugs. "Don't forget that I'm currently your superior."
As they spoke, a cloud of dust emerged in the distance, catching their attention. Their eyes widened with relief as hundreds of horse-drawn carts came into view, laden with supplies.
The carts rolled closer, their wheels creaking and echoing as they move through the silent streets of Dalfos.
The soldiers stationed at the gate sprang into action, forming a human chain to unload the provisions efficiently. Sarika and Victor supervised the process, ensuring the supplies were distributed to the appropriate units.
Sarika inspected one of the crates, carefully lifting the lid to reveal a set of sleek arquebuses nestled inside.
"So, this is the new weapon we would be using?" she remarked, running her fingers along the smooth surface of an arquebus.
"Yes," Victor confirmed, nodding. "The enemy we will face would be far stronger than we have previously fought. Barlia needs to close the technological gap as much as possible if we want to have a chance at victory."
Sarika pondered for a moment, her eyes fixed on the arquebuses before her. "So, we need to conduct mass training sessions, then. How long do you think it would take?" she asked, turning her attention back to Victor.
Victor furrowed his brow, deep in thought. "I'd say we should allocate at least two weeks for intensive training. We should aim of raising their skill so they could wield new weapons effectively."
Sarika nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Two weeks it is, then. But, what about ammunition? We need to ensure a steady supply of ammunition and proper maintenance for these weapons."
"Do not worry about that. From now on, the supply units will keep coming to this city to ensure a consistent flow of ammunition. Our skilled blacksmiths have been studying the Ryntum weapons we got from Vofors City. They are making improvements on our own weapon as we speak."
As the unloading continued, the bustling activity gradually filled the emptiness that had plagued the city.
The soldiers eagerly transport their rations into the city. The presence of a new batch of foods has made their worries disappear.
With the supplies accounted for, Sarika retired to her temporary home within the city, preparing for the training session.