Chapter 268: Variables

Chapter 268 Variables

Boulder Castle returned to its former tranquility as the nobles completely withdrew to the camp outside.

Baron Corentin woke up naturally as usual, then, humming an unknown tune, enjoyed an exquisite breakfast under the service of a flock of servants.

He was not indifferent to this war, but rather highly attentive.

After all, this was a great gamble belonging to him.

Although Ronin had dismissed his plan for an immediate attack, that did not affect the grand scheme of things.

In his view, it was nothing more than idling away a few more days in the camp; as the food was consumed, they would take action after all.

And as long as the allied noble army went to war with the Brandit bandit group of Red Hill Town, his knight squad of Boulder Castle would become a sharp dagger, thoroughly piercing through the battle lines and changing the course of the war.

"My lord, the knight who stayed in the camp has returned, saying he carries the order of the commander, Viscount Ronin."

The steward of Boulder Castle reported respectfully.

After the previous events, Corentin's impression of Ronin had somewhat improved, but after a night of sleep, that improvement seemed to have dissipated, and he began to feel disdain for Ronin in his heart once more.

He wiped the grease from his hands, "Let that knight come see me."

Soon, in the small parlor, he met the messenger knight and learned that Ronin had notified him to go to the camp to discuss the operational plan.

"Heh, this commander of ours truly loves to find things to do for himself; the preliminary arrangements were only settled yesterday, yet today we must discuss a new operational plan."

"With less than a day having passed, I really want to see what new ideas he can possibly have."

Before the war officially began, Corentin held the status of a defeated general, so he naturally would not openly violate the commander's arrangements on these minor matters, which would undoubtedly mean looking for trouble for himself.

Therefore, upon receiving the order, he immediately set about preparing to go to the allied camp.

"Did anything special happen in the camp last night?" he asked casually.

"Last night, Ronin summoned Toru and the others to discuss something, and he also came looking for you, but it happened that you were not there. Perhaps because it was late at night, they did not send word to Boulder Castle to notify you."

The corners of Corentin's mouth could not help but curl up, secretly thinking that it was fortunate he had returned to Boulder Castle to rest; otherwise, he would have been dragged out for a meeting in the middle of the night.

The young commander, truly loves to show off and cause a fuss.

"Go notify Brissot, have him take the knight squad and come with me to the allied camp."

Brissot was a knight who had newly joined Boulder Castle, highly powerful, and without a doubt already the person Baron Corentin valued most.

If the Boulder Territory were to have its own order of knights in the future, this Knight Brissot would absolutely assume the position of commander.

However, these were all the views of the knight squad members.

In truth, Brissot was not a follower of Corentin.

The other party had come here purely to help him complete this great gamble.

Soon, the knight squad of Boulder Castle finished assembling, Corentin mounted his warhorse, and Brissot had also arrived.

"Let us go," Corentin said.

The company of over two knight squads, totaling more than two hundred people, began to set out toward the camp of the allied noble army.

Seeing that Ronin's plan to lure the snake out of its hole and catch the turtle in the jar was about to succeed, a figure ran out from the path on the west side of the castle, quickly arriving at the front of the line.

"Lord Baron, Lord Baron!"

Corentin pulled the reins and looked back; it was the messenger bird keeper of Boulder Castle.

"What is the matter?" he asked in a deep voice.

"My lord, there is an urgent letter for you!"

Corentin's brow furrowed; what urgent letter could there be at this time?

Could it be sent from Crow Castle?

He hurriedly took it, tore it open to look, and his face suddenly changed drastically.

"What is wrong?" Brissot, sensing something amiss, asked curiously.

Corentin looked at him with an extremely complex gaze, which seemed to contain regret, anger, and a trace of madness.

"Stand by!"

He turned back and shouted to the knight squad, "Brissot, you come with me!"

The two walked one after the other to a side far away from the company.

"What is wrong, Corentin? I see your face does not look right."

Corentin handed the letter to him, "This is a letter written by Amicus; they searched for an entire night and could not find Warwick, suspecting that he met with misfortune, or was captured by the people of Crow Castle!"

"This

Coryn’s eyes glinted with madness: “If our forces unite, the noble alliance will still be crushed between us—front and rear!”

“Exactly!”

Briso nodded solemnly, fully endorsing the plan.

Their original strategy had been to defect at the very moment battle commenced, catching the noble alliance utterly off-guard.

Now, the chance to defect had vanished—but the advantage of encirclement remained intact, for the noble alliance’s encampment lay squarely between Stonekeep and Crimson Hill.

The scales of victory still tipped in their favor.

As for concern over whether the Polnet Bandits would send troops?

For a typical alliance, Amicus might hesitate, even bargain.

But Coryn’s alliance with them was no ordinary pact—Jesús himself had woven the threads behind the scenes.

Upon receiving the message, Amicus would not hesitate at all; he would likely act immediately, lest the plan fail.

“Come then! Let us meet them in open battle! Even if we suffer heavy losses, if victory is ours in the end, it will all have been worth it!”

Coryn lashed his horse’s flank and galloped toward the Messenger Tower.

Briso spurred his mount forward to the knight squad, beginning to direct the defense of the castle.

Stonekeep’s walls rose over ten meters high, their thickness reaching seven or eight meters—ordinary assaults could never easily breach them.

Inside the fortress, ample grain and supplies were stockpiled; hunger and thirst were no concern.

Briso was certain: with Stonekeep as their bulwark, holding out for several days posed no challenge.

Those few days would be more than enough for Crimson Hill to act.

(End of Chapter)