As the nobles departed, having reached an agreement, Viscount Soutte finally pulled himself together.

“This agreement has been reached?”

He met Richard’s gaze and received a resolute nod in return.

“Of course.”

Soutte remained silent. It was no wonder he was bewildered. Richard’s every proposal during the negotiations had been excessively harsh, pushing the limits of the commander in chief’s authority in the war zone. Thinking of himself, Soutte knew he, too, would never agree to such terms.

Consider: The northern lands lacked horses, so all the nobles’ cavalrymen were to be gathered into a single, unified cavalry force under the Hunter family’s command. This amounted to a de facto transfer of command of the other noble families’ cavalry to the Hunters.

When Viscount Soutte heard this proposal, his eyelids had twitched. “Do they really intend to agree?”

“The terms are written clearly in the treaty. Why would they be false?”

Soutte’s expression remained incredulous, so Richard had no choice but to produce the treaty for him.

An agreement was nothing more than toilet paper in the hands of the weak; it held little value. But when it was wielded by a strongman, it became something else entirely. It was a veneer of legitimacy. If the weak refused to abide by its terms, the strongman could enforce them with a clear conscience, without worrying about backlash.

Of course, Richard’s ideal scenario was to annex the fief outright, just as he had done with Wil. But he could not pull the same trick twice. The kingdom’s order had not yet collapsed, and while the Hunters could skirt the edges of the rules with Lint’s protection, Richard had no illusions about his own ability to defy them outright—at least, not at present.

However, with the Hunter family’s current strength, intimidating a few neighboring fiefs into submission was entirely feasible.

The three barons at the negotiation table had long since resigned themselves to their fate, though Viscount Nade tried to speak a few times, only to be silenced by the sight of ten knights standing outside.

The negotiation itself was amicable, with Richard doing all the talking while the others nodded along, hesitating only briefly before doing so.

The final contract transformed Flooding Snow City’s ceremonial token of command into genuine authority. Standing at the door of the Boule Chamber, gazing at the group of knights surrounding him, Viscount Soutte couldn’t help but ask, “Richard, who are they?”

Richard understood Soutte’s question; it would have been stranger had he not asked. “Absolutely reliable.”

This was all Richard could say.

“Understood.” Though there were many questions left in his head, Soutte chose to accept Richard’s word unconditionally, following his personal principle of not wasting time on things too complicated to understand.

As the sun set, a procession slowly made its way along a road. The well-equipped troops clearly had low morale, the entire group somewhat dispirited.

“Bro, did we really sign that agreement?”

The Nade family members had lost much of their initial enthusiasm, their heads now hanging in despondence. Viscount Nade no longer bothered trying to lift their spirits; even he wore a worried expression.

“We’ve already signed it. It’s not like we can renege now.”

Viscount Nade had no patience for his brother’s question. Never mind reneging, even if time could flow backward, he’d still have to sign. Did his brother think those dozen or so knights were just for show?

“Enough, let’s not waste our energy on hypotheticals. Once these man-eating demons retreat, the Nade family will still be the Nade family.”

Viscount Nade meant that once the war ended, the commanding general of the war zone would no longer have authority over the Nade family, and they would endure this merely until then.

The setting sun stretched the Nade family’s shadows into long, thin lines. Under Viscount Nade’s guidance, the group finally recovered some of their spirits.

In Flooding Snow City, although the temperature had slowly begun to rise, the city was filled with a grim and chilling aura. The northern lands often saw skirmishes with the barbarian tribes, but an attack by a horde of cannibals so large that the Northern Expeditionary Army was almost entirely mobilized hadn’t occurred in at least ten years.

The Northern Expeditionary Army certainly deserved its reputation as a hundred-battles elite force. Within a few days, the entire army had completed all preparations for departure, and many soldiers continued to tirelessly sharpen their already razor-sharp weapons.

The soldiers of the Northern Expeditionary Army were either nervous or excited, but there was no fear of war. After all, for ordinary soldiers, war was the only means by which they could earn the opportunity to advance.

The kingdom valued military achievements, and the Lancelot family, still relatively just, ensured that there were always opportunities for soldiers to earn recognition and promotion through merit. Every year, stories of soldiers achieving such success trickled down through the ranks, inspiring tales of longing for glory that consumed the soldiers’ thoughts.

A messenger bird swooped over the city wall and into the Marquis Estate’s birdcage. The soldiers waiting beside immediately fed the precious bird, then removed the note tied to its leg before rushing it off to Marquis Wade without a moment’s delay.

“So they’ve finally made their move.”

Marquis Wade read the intelligence report from the Wilderness. Although the barbarian tribes moved slowly, they had traversed more than a hundred kilometers in a matter of days. Their intentions could no longer be any clearer.

“Pass my orders: have the Northern Expeditionary Army take today to rest and prepare. Set off at first light to engage the barbarians.”

“Yes, sir.”

The herald wasted no time passing Marquis Wade’s orders to the appropriate parties.

Upon receiving the orders to mobilize, each soldier returned to their post to make their final preparations. Lint, having been deemed unfit for military service, would not depart with the army. Nevertheless, he felt uneasy about something, and after pondering it over, he approached Marquis Wade on his own.

“Father.”

Viscount Wade, who had been handling the affairs of Flooding Snow City by candlelight, looked up at the sound of Lint’s voice.

“Oh, Xiao-Si, what brings you here?”

The marquis’s tone remained gentle, though he didn’t place great importance on this youngest son of his who couldn’t become a knight. Yet, he still had some residual affection for the boy, not enough to scorn him outright.

“I have some thoughts regarding the march tomorrow.” Lint got straight to the point upon entering Wade’s study.

“Even wild beasts know to avoid danger; we cannot consider the cannibals stupid, merely savage. Thousands of cannibals may be formidable, but they are no match for the Northern Expeditionary Army. I fear their sudden aggression may be a ruse.”

Though Lint’s concern was valid, he lacked concrete evidence to support his claim that a trap lay ahead. However, if one eliminated the possibility that the entire leadership of this enormous cannibal tribe was composed of fools, the remaining truth became quite clear.

Wade, however, seemed unconcerned, perhaps due to his confidence in the Northern Expeditionary Army’s power.

“No need to worry. There’s no way a trap could be concealed in the Wilderness; the Blademaw Knights will see any danger within miles.”

Wade’s logic was sound: The Northern Expeditionary Army enjoyed aerial reconnaissance superiority, and the Wilderness was a vast plain with no natural formations capable of hiding an ambush.

“However, caution never hurts. I recommend that Father lead the army to first organize and rest at Herlburg. There, we can stockpile supplies and construct a sturdy camp with which to fortify Herlburg. Only then should we send reinforcements to bolster Herlburg’s defenses before advancing.”

Herlburg was a large castle east of the Wilderness, the headquarters of the Herl family. Its defenses were robust, given its position right on the border, and it would serve as an excellent rear base for a large military operation.

Though Lint couldn’t pinpoint exactly what sort of trap the enemy had set for the Northern Expeditionary Army, he advocated for prudent planning. It was wiser to exhaust all possibilities now rather than risk failure later.

After hearing Lint’s advice, Marquis Wade’s expression darkened slightly. He seemed to ponder over it before saying, “I’ll take it into consideration. You need not worry about these things. Once I depart, you stay here and manage the logistics for the army.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lint didn’t press further. He knew his father well; Marquis Wade was a proud man, and though he was open-minded, he didn’t take kindly to others’ orders. Bringing up the possibility of danger was sufficient; further emphasis might backfire.

By the time Lint exited Marquis Wade’s room, night had fallen. He gazed westward into the direction of the Wilderness with his deep gaze, as if trying to pierce through the veil of darkness hiding everything beneath the moonlight…