HTLCCBFT Chapter 161

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 161

“Has the butler inside shown any signs of sending someone out for negotiations yet?”

Oliver asked Fosse.

Fosse nodded: “No, Your Highness. I’ve had men call out several times, but there’s still no response from inside.”

Oliver glanced at the swiftly flowing moat, a flicker of hesitation passing through his eyes, but he quickly made up his mind: “Then we have no choice but to proceed with my original plan.”

He could indeed choose to wait passively for the defenders’ food supplies to run out, forcing them to surrender.

But doing so would leave him vulnerable to the threat of unknown reinforcements arriving at any moment, risking an attack from both front and rear, while also wasting significant amounts of provisions and time.

After all, among his troops, only a minority were full-time professional guards – most were merely peasant soldiers who had undergone brief knight training and volunteered for conscription.

If they delayed until early autumn, it would affect the grain production for the second half of the year.

The awkward situation with the prisoners in the ranks was also a genuine problem… If they could achieve a quick victory, that would naturally be best.

To cross the moat, the two most common methods currently were stacking bundled firewood or filling with soil.

However, neither approach was suitable for this rapidly flowing river, leaving them with the more material-intensive and complicated method of building a movable bridge.

This wasn’t a problem.

He had ample time and sufficient materials: in his game backpack, he had stored an astonishing amount of lumber that far exceeded anyone’s imagination.

Even without touching the forest resources in Gregor’s territory, the supplies in his backpack alone were more than enough to fill the entire moat.

Of course, they wouldn’t need that much.

By laying planks that could serve as walkways on sturdy timber, adding wooden wheels underneath for easy movement, and shaping the ends into spikes that could penetrate the ground, they could complete a bridge for soldiers to cross.

However, this approach would inevitably involve significant casualties: whether during the placement of the movable bridge, the crossing process, or after reaching the other side of the moat… unless they could create numerous movable shelters, they would certainly face heavy arrow fire from the defenders.

Casualties were always what Oliver least wanted to see.

But the most destructive explosive eggs could only be placed on the ground near him, not projected remotely. Therefore, if he wanted to end the battle quickly, he had no choice but to enter the castle defenders’ kill zone.

“After the movable bridge is built, don’t rush to use it. Hide it first until we have enough shelters.”

They needed to deploy simultaneously before crossing together.

This would be the most efficient approach and could somewhat confuse the defenders, making them uncertain which side to attack first.

And having sufficient movable shelters would maximize the protection for his soldiers.

Oliver opened his eyes that had been closed all along, revealing their rare ice-blue color. He said coldly: “Remember, when the time comes, have Count McKenna go first.”

Fosse bowed without hesitation and replied respectfully: “Yes, Your Highness.”

The Albury army didn’t wait until deep night to act. Instead, they openly entered the forest in full view of the castle defenders and began extensive logging.

Oliver had brought them out with the intention of tempering them, so after careful consideration, he decided to use only a small portion of his own timber resources, leaving the majority for them to procure themselves.

Count McKenna, in his campaign to capture Albury City, had specifically constructed numerous siege engines, but the vast majority were scaling ladders and battering rams, with catapults being pitifully few in number.

Moreover, when attacking a castle across a moat, small catapults were utterly useless—only large ones could barely serve any purpose.

“Look closely, Master Calward.”

At the top of the castle’s highest watchtower, Ken Spire’s right hand gripped a trembling arm like an eagle’s talon, forcing its owner to follow his direction and look downward: “They are felling trees for only one purpose—to construct planks for bridging the moat.”

“I already know,” Calward replied, his face drenched in cold sweat. After mustering the courage to glance down, the despair in his heart deepened: “I order you—release me at once, Ken!”

Ken stared fixedly at him until the feeble anger on his face withered away, then withdrew his sharp gaze: “Forgive my impertinence, esteemed young master. But time is of the essence. For the sake of all those loyal to you, please make a decision swiftly.”

What could be done?

Calward didn’t even dare to rub his sore arm, a bitter smile twisting his features.

Though his father Gride had always scorned him, never offering affection voluntarily, no amount of distance could erase the blood ties between them.

While others were half-convinced by the butler’s glib tongue, Calward needed only one glance at the figure bound tightly and prostrate on the filthy ground to recognize him unmistakably as his father.

But he couldn’t save his father.

The only one with even a sliver of hope to rescue him was the ever-cunning Spire… but Spire, to preserve his own life, would never attempt a rescue.

If he forced Spire to try, he himself wouldn’t survive either.

Judging by the vile true nature Spire had revealed this time, Calward had no doubt that if pushed into a hopeless situation, Spire wouldn’t go down without a fight.

—He would choose mutual destruction.

Should he truly abandon his father’s life and flee through the secret passage under Spire’s guidance?

For some reason, he faintly sensed that even if he followed Spire’s plan, his chances of survival were slim to none.

In over twenty years of life, Calward had rarely known happiness, but at least his father had always been there as a shield.

Never before had he felt so utterly hopeless and powerless.

“Dear mother,” he whispered.

Unwilling to face the expectant stares waiting for his swift decision, he hastily covered his face with his hands, silently praying to his mother, who had passed away from illness years ago.

“Please, tell me what to do.”

He wept silently in despair.

What should the incompetent Calward do now?

Ken Spire watched his silent weeping with a cold gaze, his patience gradually wearing thin.

He held no tender pity for this worthless young master.

Under the imminent threat of death, he had already prepared to press his sword against the other’s neck in the next moment, forcing them to obey his every command.

To his slight satisfaction, the cowardly opponent didn’t hold out long under his gaze before obediently lowering their head and deciding to follow his instructions.

“Spire, you’re right.”

Calward forced a faint smile: “I can’t stand by and watch you who are loyal to my father make pointless sacrifices… Father’s misfortune shouldn’t lead to the family’s destruction. We must escape quickly.”

As for where to flee, according to Spire’s suggestion, it would be to Riche City.

Before his great-grandmother married, she was sisters with the aunt of Riche City’s lord, Welph. This tenuous connection, barely strong enough to sustain two or three letters a year between them, was now his only hope.

“It’s excellent that you recognize this.”

Spire spoke rather bluntly but at least maintained superficial respect, avoiding excessive damage to Calward’s fragile pride: “Please take your most important belongings… Ah, unfortunately, though I wish otherwise, this is a critical moment for escape. We don’t have enough energy or manpower to carry your mother’s large portrait. Please put it down and quickly gather your most essential, lightweight valuables. And don’t forget items that can prove your identity – medals, seals, ancient jewelry. These must be shown to Lord Welph, who has been missing your great-grandmother for years.”

The naturally timid Calward had never been decisive, and this time was no exception.

In his distraught state, he displayed uncharacteristic subservience to the dominant Spire, contrary to his noble status, and hurriedly packed the simplest items.

The most loyal and valiant knights had all followed his father to campaign in Albury, their fates now unknown, and thus unavailable to protect him.

The only people he could bring along were one personal valet, two young knight attendants with still-youthful faces, and a stone-digger.

The stone-digger was brought as a precaution: if minor collapses occurred in the tunnel, which was as old as the castle itself and only periodically maintained, at least the Count’s son wouldn’t have to kneel on the ground undignified, digging through blocked earth with his bare hands.

“Spire, aren’t you coming with us?”

After entering the tunnel, Calward turned around and was astonished to see Spire standing motionless: “You…” Weren’t you so urgent just moments ago?

Facing his confusion, Spire slightly lowered his brows, adopting the deferential posture most familiar to Calward – the same one he often displayed before Calward’s father: “I deeply apologize for treating you so harshly earlier, but it was necessary to make you leave quickly. I will ensure your safe departure and that the soldiers remain undisturbed before considering my own path.”

“Spire!”

Completely unprepared for this answer, Calward widened his eyes, filled with disbelief.

Upon realizing Spire truly didn’t intend to accompany him, his heart was instantly flooded with guilt for having misjudged the other’s intentions, and he whispered: “Never mind all that, you, and the soldiers, should leave quickly. We cannot hold this place.”

Truly, an utterly foolish and naive young master.

Spire smiled faintly. After reaffirming his loyalty and sending off the tearfully moved young man, he inwardly sneered.

Of course he wouldn’t stay, but neither would he be foolish enough to escape together with them.

He merely needed to wait until deep night, allowing them to flee a sufficient distance before releasing news of their escape to draw the enemy’s pursuit – all to facilitate his own escape with more valuables.

The one who had always lived under his father’s protection seemed completely unaware that when Spire advised him to bring only the lightest luggage… the truly valuable gold ornaments had already fallen into his control.

Spire slowly ascended the steps. After returning to the city walls, while making final mobilization speeches to the soldiers who were overjoyed at his return, he idly thought… the panicked Calward seemed to have overlooked one crucial point from beginning to end.

What an incurably stupid fool.

What Duke Oliver wanted, from start to finish, was only the territory of Gregor – not to exterminate the McKenna family completely.

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