HTLCCBFT Chapter 121

Has The Lord’s Career Chart Been Filled Today? – Chapter 121

PSA: R*pe & violence

As the situation in Albury City became increasingly clear to Oliver, it inadvertently gave rise to an idea that even he found somewhat surprising.

He wanted to annex Albury.

Since his conflict with King Cameron was inevitable, the only way to protect his own life and those of his subordinates was to expand his influence as much as possible while the king was preoccupied with the chaotic politics in the royal capital.

Laina City was the starting point of his development and his most important stronghold. With its abundant forest resources and relatively sufficient arable land, it could at least achieve basic self-sufficiency.

However, it also had irreparable flaws.

In this era, its overly remote location and poor mineral resources were fatal limitations to the city’s long-term development.

If it were another city with more convenient transportation, even focusing solely on economic development and maintaining moderate military defense would allow it to thrive—Gregor City was a prime example.

The moment this thought emerged, after a brief moment of surprise, Oliver began to ponder its feasibility.

A direct assault on the castle was certainly not advisable.

Laina was so impoverished that it had never built a proper outer wall: most of the town area relied on the natural barrier of the Laina River for protection, and its four gates were dilapidated. Even after repairs, they could not withstand a moderately organized army.

The division of the town area was also chaotic: although there was an inner wall about one and a half times a person’s height around the castle, it was too close to the residential areas. Lacking a large open space for observing enemy movements from a height, it was clearly just for show and served no real defensive purpose.

The rarity of foreign invasions in the past was entirely due to the natural protection of “poverty.”

Moreover, the terrifying fact that eight consecutive lords had died within a year had made Laina City widely known as “The Cursed Land.”

Albury City, however, was completely different.

Although it was a small city with a registered tax-paying population of just over 1,500, unable to compare with its other neighbor, Gregor City, it was still far superior to Laina.

The reason Oliver dismissed the idea of a direct assault without hesitation was that Albury’s castle, compared to Laina’s, could be described as fully equipped.

The castle featured tall towers, and the battlements were densely lined with narrow embrasures, allowing the guards inside to shoot arrows downward comfortably through the gaps.

In stark contrast to their ease, shooting arrows upward into the gaps of the stone brick walls from below required not only skill but also sheer luck.

A trench nearly two people deep was dug around the castle, which had to be filled before anyone could approach the walls—but that also meant the attackers would be completely exposed to the defenders’ range, inevitably suffering significant casualties during the filling process.

A short distance beyond the trench stood an inner wall three times a person’s height, clearly separating the castle from the town area.

During major conflicts, “higher-class” commoners who paid more taxes or possessed important skills and positions were usually permitted to enter the inner city or even take refuge in the castle.

Before entering, they had to pay an additional hefty “war avoidance tax”: this tax would be taken by the lord to pay mercenary salaries, in order to recruit more combat forces for defense.

As for ordinary civilians, they had to personally respond to the lord’s conscription: no matter how frightened they were, they had to steel themselves, take up weapons, follow the knights’ commands as best they could, and protect their homeland.

Of course, this referred to normal circumstances.

Oliver didn’t expect that group of rebels—who were uneducated, showed no signs of long-term planning, and seemed to live only for day-to-day pleasure—to act according to conventional logic.

Considering the troublesome possibility of amateurs accidentally defeating experts…

Oliver pondered thoughtfully.

Indeed, the cheapest and most convenient method remained siege warfare.

After all, the rebels were all hiding inside the castle. Even if they didn’t know how to use the weapons left by the previous lord, they could at least utilize the well-equipped castle itself to defend against external forces.

To breach the castle head-on would require substantial support from siege equipment: those devices already had expensive material costs, demanded significant time and manpower, and occupied his currently precious skilled workers like carpenters.

Even if they could overcome these difficulties and produce sufficient siege engines like catapults, shields, protective panels, siege towers, and ballistae, transporting these heavy yet fragile contraptions intact to Albury City’s gates became the second major challenge.

Even if they chose to disassemble them for transport and reassemble on site… it would still be a massive, headache-inducing project.

Moreover, destruction is always easier than reconstruction.

The rebels lacked the conditions, capability, and even the intention for long-term management, which allowed them to recklessly consume resources and destroy the labor achievements painstakingly created by successive lords, all to vent their rage.

But Oliver didn’t want a city full of holes, more miserable than Laina had once been, that would require extensive time and energy to rebuild.

If only he could minimize the losses.

Of course, if he truly wanted convenience, Oliver could try using explosive eggs to blast his way in, or personally wear the Cat God’s Ring and charge in alone.

He could even be more unscrupulous and exploit this seemingly simple and easily deceived deity, making Him use divine power to assist him.

But he had no intention of doing so.

This was Laina’s first step in external expansion, a crucial one at that, and the opponent’s strength wasn’t formidable—perfect for training.

Laina’s new army needed to gain experience in actual combat as soon as possible, rather than relying solely on his personal abilities.

He could lend a hand at appropriate times, but he absolutely wouldn’t take everything upon himself.

Since when do divine messengers personally lead charges?

Oliver thought with clear conscience… at most, he’d offer prayers and blessings before departure to boost morale.

Compared to forcefully assaulting a sturdy, complex castle, besieging the defenders and waiting for internal supplies to deplete until they surrendered voluntarily was more practical.

Food supplies were finite.

As rebel slaves most despised by nobles, they couldn’t find reinforcements elsewhere. If they only relied on the remaining 800-plus people… Oliver believed it should be manageable.

As long as they blocked the castle’s entrances and exhausted their food supplies, they could force those inside to surrender.

Of course, as a precaution, he also planned to hire a group of mercenaries before the official start of the war to ensure the city gates could be sealed.

Beyond these concerns, there was another layer of worry.

The royal capital was too far away to be an immediate concern in the short term.

But what about Count McKenna, who had been standing by idly all along—even feigning absence and not returning? Would he seize the opportunity to snatch the spoils when the time came?

“When should we launch the attack?”

Oliver stroked the big cat’s completely relaxed, warm back, feeling the cozy, furry texture, and smiled faintly. “Let’s wait for spring.”

As for this winter, it would be used to continue training the newly selected guards’ combat skills, while also repairing the walls and the routes connecting to other cities.

Since he had resolved to target Albury… he would start by repairing the road to Albury City.

Unaware of the sudden ambition brewing in their neighboring lord, the Albury rebels, who had recently taken full control of the castle, were indeed indulging in a reckless revelry as Oliver had guessed.

“Damn these noble lords!” they roared, gulping down the fine wine looted after killing the wine merchant, savoring the peculiar thrill that felt like a slight burn through their heart, lungs, and spleen, while cursing the Butor family, who had always taken such luxuries for granted. “We should have done this long ago!”

“Right! Thank goodness for Lieder!”

“Drink up! This is the kind of wine only those hateful nobles used to enjoy! He was so extravagant he drank a small barrel every day!”

“Didn’t that cook say before she died that Butor, that bastard, wouldn’t get up until noon, lying in bed drinking this good wine while eating premium smoked meat and white bread?”

“Hahaha, now any one of us can do the same!”

“If only we hadn’t burned the farmland so soon—those well-informed merchants are all scared out of their wits now and won’t foolishly come back to die!”

“Yeah, I was hoping to grab more money.”

“My only regret is killing all his women right away! When they flaunted themselves in those long skirts in front of Butor, they were much prettier than those usually haughty maids!”

“Enough, enough. The way they cried and cursed at us while trembling with fear didn’t excite me at all.”

Hearing this, everyone burst into unrestrained laughter.

Some, already drunk and dizzy, grinned lewdly, bid farewell to the others, and stepped out of the hall—warm as autumn from the blazing firewood.

“Damn, it’s cold!”

Startled by the sudden cold wind sneaking down his neck, he muttered a curse under his breath. Walking along the stone corridor, he soon reached a thick stone door.

With a smile to the two men on door duty that night, he easily opened the door. After a round of selection peppered with foul language, he effortlessly dragged out a relatively pretty young maid who was weeping and begging for mercy, then headed toward another room.

In stark contrast to the revelry in the castle, the slaves huddled together in the devastated villages, shivering as they tried to keep warm.

The farmlands had been completely burned down by the frenzied rebels, and the towns’ grain and food supplies had been emptied out by them.

They relied on digging through the thick layers of snow to unearth some roots, or scavenging grains accidentally spilled by rebel soldiers while transporting provisions.

If there were any moderately attractive women, they would either trade their bodies to people in the castle for food—for their own survival or their families—pleading for the pity of their former companions.

But once they entered, no one ever saw them again.

The weather was bitterly cold.

Winter days were especially short, and the nights unbearably long.

Even when the surroundings were still bright and the sun occasionally peeked out, those clad in thin, tattered clothes would shiver uncontrollably, their bodies covered in layers of frostbite, their faces deathly pale and devoid of color.

And the nights were even worse.

Starving and freezing, they longed to sleep but dared not—afraid that if they closed their eyes, they might never open them again, just like some of their companions.

No one cared whether they lived or died.

Some gazed with longing and fear at the brightly lit windows, dreaming of going inside to warm themselves.

Others, struggling desperately against the cold, glared at the castle with deep-seated hatred.

“Spring… please come quickly,” someone murmured weakly.

Yes, once spring arrived, they could farm again.

When the new crops grew, perhaps they would be like the old days under the lord’s rule—able to receive a little food after a full day’s work.

And if there were no lord, no knights, and no steward around, they might even be allowed into the forest to dig up some freshly sprouted wild vegetables to stave off hunger.

Hearing this, a flicker of hope ignited in some hearts, but most remained silent in despair.

All the seeds reserved for next year’s planting were stored inside the castle.

Would the people inside… really leave any for them?

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