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Chapter 17: Fort Ethel

  Twelve magic crystals turned to dust, and the mysterious compass in Hudson’s mind only solidified slightly. Its exact functions remained unclear.

  Clearly, this amount of magic was far from enough to satisfy the voracious appetite of his golden finger, leaving Hudson on the verge of despair. If it weren’t for the slight improvement in his physical condition, he might have given up altogether.

  With his golden finger still unusable, Hudson had no choice but to remain cautious. He set up camp and waited for the various forces within the alliance to gather before continuing their march.

  Looking at the dazzling array of banners and the disorganized troops beneath them, Hudson didn’t know whether to ugh or cry.

  He had thought his own forces were bad, but it turned out there were even worse ones. Among the entire alliance, only two or three groups were somewhat presentable. The rest were utter trash.

  After some internal comparison, Hudson realized that his own ragtag group actually ranked in the top five within the temporary alliance.

  Not because they were strong, but simply because they had more people. Even though they were all conscripts, different territories had different military obligations.

  Among equally disorganized forces, the ones with more numbers naturally appeared stronger. Hudson, who had pnned to sck off, never imagined his group would become one of the alliance’s “main forces.”

  This was awkward. With such a ragtag group, it was unclear whether they were going to suppress the rebellion or deliver themselves as cannon fodder to the rebels.

  It seemed there were too many smart people in this world. Sensing something was off, everyone had chosen to conserve their strength.

  When all these smart people came together, the result was the current spectacle of a “gathering of ragtag forces.”

  In an environment where scking off had become the norm, those who actually mobilized their forces honestly stood out as exceptions. Of course, “exception” here wasn’t a derogatory term. Everyone “respected” those few who had brought out their full strength.

  When choosing allies, honest people were naturally preferred. Hudson and the other nobles unanimously began praising these exceptions.

  Their true thoughts didn’t matter. In the upcoming war, these honest nobles would be the alliance’s “military backbone.”

  Of course, as the nominal leader, Knight Chelse was also a military backbone—but only in terms of personal strength. The others were the backbone in terms of group strength.

  After all, Chelse was poor.

  Most of his wealth had been poured into the bottomless pit of magic research, leaving him no funds to develop his military. Even his guards were conscripted serfs, and the only real military strength in his territory was himself.

  Among all the noble private armies, Chelse’s troops were the worst. Armed with nothing but bamboo spears, they didn’t even have a single set of armor.

  Poor equipment was one thing, but the soldiers themselves were a motley crew. Their disorganized formation made it clear they had never been trained.

  Comparisons are inevitable, and against the backdrop of his allies, Hudson suddenly realized that his own forces were considered “elite.”

  At the very least, the Coslow family’s troops were the only ones maintaining a proper formation. Unlike the other noble private armies, which had to round up their scattered soldiers every time they set up camp.

  With so many new allies, the marching speed slowed even further. Despite the approaching deadline for the assembly, no one seemed to be in a hurry.

  Since no one else was worried, Hudson saw no reason to be the one to push. The principle of “safety in numbers” applied even in the Asnt continent, especially when dealing with nobles.

  Under the current political system, nobles enjoyed extraordinary privileges. Count Piers might be able to punish a single noble, but he wouldn’t dare to punish a group. If things escated, it would surely draw the attention of the kingdom.

  Since ancient times, there had been an irreconcible conflict between the central government and local lords. How to suppress the power of local nobles was a course for every king.

  To maintain the kingdom’s stability and bance of power, successive kings had always sought to sow discord among the local lords. They could not tolerate a unified local front.

  Under this principle, the retionship between major local nobles and minor nobles was naturally tense and could never be too harmonious.

  Understanding this, Hudson suddenly realized the wisdom behind his colleagues’ actions. Their seemingly nonsensical behavior was actually a dispy of political savvy.

  Of course, this didn’t mean they were particurly clever. Most of them acted this way out of habit. Perhaps they didn’t want to be te, but their inefficiency made it impossible.

  The true orchestrators of this situation were likely the higher-ranking nobles. Generations of effort and indulgence had led to the current state of affairs.

  If Hudson were in their position, he would do the same. Deliberately creating an image of loose control over the territories was the best way to dispel the king’s suspicions.

  However, this situation had begun to change in recent decades. As time passed, the local lords had grown increasingly powerful, and the royal family’s advantage was no longer as clear. Small acts of defiance had become more frequent.

  Of course, this was all Hudson’s specution. With limited information and insufficient understanding of the upper echelons of society, his conclusions might not be entirely accurate.

  Fort Ethel

  With the arrival of Count Piers’ army, Fort Ethel had become the headquarters of the anti-rebellion forces and the front line blocking the rebels’ westward advance.

  Leading from the front was a reflection of knightly spirit. Although Count Piers didn’t personally charge into battle, he did take command on the front lines.

  After days of defending the fort, Count Piers was exhausted. Pns never kept up with changes. Initially, he had thought the rebels were just a disorganized rabble, not worth worrying about. He had allowed the rebellion to grow, hoping to profit from the chaos.

  But the Skull Society had pyed a big move. First, they sughtered the nobles of Dadier City, and then the rebels quickly swept through the countryside.

  Before Count Piers could react, the rebels had overrun the counties of Light and Whiton, their forces now threatening Beda.

  Light and Whiton were one thing—they were mostly the fiefs of other nobles, and only a few unlucky vassals were affected. Count Piers could afford those losses.

  But Beda was different. It was the core territory of the Dalton family. If it fell to the rebels, the losses would be catastrophic.

  Reluctantly, Count Piers had to issue a conscription order while personally leading his army to meet the enemy, holding the line at Fort Ethel.

  “Where are the reinforcements from the nobles? How long until they arrive?”

  Count Piers asked with a frown.

  It wasn’t that the Dalton family feared the rebels, but war inevitably meant casualties. These rebels were clearly no ordinary foes. Even if they could win, the losses would be severe.

  In this dog-eat-dog world, strength was everything. If the Dalton family suffered significant losses, countless predators would surely pounce.

  To minimize his family’s losses, even though he had the strength to crush the rebels outside the city, Count Piers chose to hold his position and wait.

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