A firm knock echoed through the chamber as James called out, "My Lord."
"Come in, James," I answered.
James stepped inside, bowing slightly before delivering his report. "My Lord, John and Norman have sent over new supply carts. They've been placed in the holding cells."
It took me a brief moment to recall what he was referring to, but then it clicked. "I see. Good work."
James hesitated, studying me before speaking again. "My Lord, is something the matter?"
Looking up at him, I realized I must not have been hiding my exhaustion well. With a sigh, I responded, "War Marshal Greychild has sent word that he is coming here."
The shift in James's demeanor was immediate. His neutral expression hardened into one of displeasure. "For what reason would that man have to visit?" His voice carried no hint of amusement.
"According to his letter, he is coming to deliver the rewards from the last ranking tournament, as well as compensation for assisting Claire," I explained.
James scoffed, his expression darkening. "You could have achieved a far better rank in that tournament had"
"That's enough, James," Thorpe interjected firmly.
"But Captain, we all know it's true," James protested.
Thorpe's gaze remained steady. "James, I understand your passion for our Lord's honor, but there's no point in dwelling on it any longer. We must move forward."
Though clearly dissatisfied, James relented, exhaling sharply.
"In any case," I continued, shifting the conversation, "sending out these letters and ensuring we properly accommodate Marcel's infantrymen should be our top priorities."
James glanced at the stack of letters awaiting dispatch. "My Lord, are these regarding an infantry relocation request?"
"No, they pertain to other matters. Why do you ask?"
James appeared lost in thought for a moment before his expression hardened with conviction. "My Lord, according to the Marquis's men, they were attacked by a Monarch's Household Familiar because the baron was on the verge of becoming a representative. That means retaliation is inevitable. The last I checked, retaliation always comes two to three days after the initial provocation."
His words hit me like a bucket of cold water. How had I overlooked something so crucial? Given the magnitude of what had been taken, this would not be a minor retaliation.
"James, you're right. I don't know how that slipped my mind," I admitted.
Thorpe stood abruptly. "My Lord, if the Marquis is here, that confirms it. The attack will be directed at this domain. We must issue a declaration for infantry relocation immediately to prepare for the upcoming battle."
I nodded. "You're both right. I'll write to John and Norman at once."
I grabbed a fresh set of parchments and quickly penned a letter to each Castellan, stating our intent for infantry relocation. Once finished, I handed them to James. "Deliver these to the respective carrier hawks for dispatch."
After James had left, I leaned back into my chair, rubbing my temples in frustration. "Captain Thorpe," I called.
"Yes, my Lord?" He straightened his posture.
"It is time to begin defensive preparations. Start immediately."
"Understood, my Lord," Thorpe said, bowing before exiting the chamber to carry out my orders.
I exhaled deeply and turned toward the window, gazing into the dark night sky. "This is not going to be a peaceful two days," I murmured to myself.
After some time, I pushed myself up from my chair and made my way to my chambers to refresh myself.
The next two days were a whirlwind of preparation. The citadel bustled with activity as walls and gates were reinforced, food rations stockpiled, weapons sharpened, and arrows positioned at key points along the fortifications. Citizens hunkered down in their homes, bracing for the inevitable assault. Meanwhile, the infantry from the two recently annexed cities had returned, bolstering our ranks and aiding in the final preparations.
"Now that we are all here, let's go over the plan one last time," Thorpe said, gesturing to a model of the citadel with figures representing different defensive positions. "Captain Farling and her vice-captain, Morgan, will defend the southern wall. James and I will be stationed at the eastern side, while Kalrick and George take the west. Norman will handle the north wall, and John will support from the gate in case of a breach."
He moved the small figures as he spoke, demonstrating the strategic placements. "When the invasion begins, troops stationed at the waypoint towers will reinforce areas with concentrated attacks to protect the archers. As the enemy approaches, the archers will fire explosive volleys to thin their numbers before they reach the walls. Immediately after, we will drop rubble to crush the frontlines. If any mutant thralls, especially animal-based ones, are spotted, we fire the harpoon cannons."
Captain Farling furrowed her brows. "Captain Thorpe, this plan assumes that thralls make up the majority of the invasion force. But what if there are more ghouls than thralls?"
Thorpe nodded. "The difference between thralls and ghouls lies in their strength, endurance, and speed. However, our weapons can damage both. The strategy remains unchanged, we eliminate as many as possible before they reach the walls and handle the rest up close."
"If only we had time to build a moat," James muttered, earning nods from Kalrick and Norman.
Thorpe's expression darkened slightly. "The biggest unknown is the number of vampires and greater vampires in this attack."
Kalrick crossed his arms. "The people in this room can take on two greater vampires at most. Anything more, and we're done for."
Captain Farling arched a brow. "Isn't our lord and your lord strong enough to kill greater vampires, especially yours?"
Kalrick exhaled sharply. "Yes, but if the Monarch's Familiar or its Household is present, that changes everything. Our Lord alone would stand little chance. However, alongside Marquis Marcel, they might stand a chance."
George nodded. "So, the plan is for our Lord to engage the greater vampires unless the Familiar or its Household appears. If they do, we adjust accordingly."
Thorpe confirmed with a resolute expression. "Exactly. We will hold the line, no matter what comes our way."