Chapter 1522: Chapter 63:
As neither side can completely cut off the other’s supply lines, the ensuing battle turned into a detested war of attrition.
The attackers put pressure on the defenders from other directions while continuously bleeding the United Provincials on Magit Island, occasionally launching a surprise attack to trigger a chain collapse within the defending army.
Since the New Army has a far larger troop size compared to the core forces of the United Provincial defenders, it’s only a matter of time before the internal pressure on the defenders reaches a critical point and subsequently collapses with a roar.
The defenders were sustained only by small batches of recruits arriving by boat, and the courage exhibited by the General himself on the frontline.
But everyone knows that sustaining life means death is the inevitable outcome.
Yet no one knows exactly when that moment will arrive.
In this long, detestable, and unbearably painful siege warfare, both sides are expecting a certain variable to emerge.
And now, the variables have appeared.
Unexpectedly, two have appeared at once.
…
[Half Domoncos Monastery]
[Command Center]
Next to Tamas’s bed, Winters is inspecting the wound on Tamas’s foot.
The night of the assault on Magit Island, Tamas’s left foot was somehow cut with a deep gash, which he ignored.
Consequently, the wound never healed and continued to deteriorate.
Now, Tamas’s left foot has swollen like a radish and he has developed a high fever.
“You’ll leave by boat tonight,” Winters ordered with a frown, leaving no room for debate, “Father Kaman is in the camp; let him treat your wound.”
“This minor injury… It’s not a big deal…” Tamas muttered.
“Tonight, you will leave,” Winters raised his eyebrows, “What’s wrong? Are you in a rush to teach?”
“Yes.” Tamas lowered his head.
After a moment of silence, tears sprang from Tamas’s eyes.
“I let you down, I’m sorry to everyone,” Tamas bit his lip until it bled but couldn’t stop his tears; the suppressed emotions poured out like a mountain flood, unstoppable, “I… I should have gone straight to Bishop’s Castle that night, I should have sent people to Bishop’s Castle in advance, but I didn’t expect, I didn’t expect so many people to die, for so many people to die for no reason, I’m sorry to everyone, I’m sorry to everyone…”
Before visiting Tamas, Winters went to the mortuary.
The faces he knew so well yet had lost vitality reappeared in his mind, stirring up infinite sorrow in Winters’ heart.
But at this time, he needs to be strong, and must be stronger.
“Leave it to me,” he gently patted Tamas’s shoulder, “Leave it to me.”
…
[Bishop’s Castle]
[Commander’s bedroom]
The visiting officer looked at Jansen Cornelius—seeing an old classmate almost worn out, turned incredibly haggard, with shrunken temples and cheeks, shoulders thin, and broad wrists reduced to bones; the once dashing and spirited appearance nowhere to be seen.
On the bed, tortured by malaria to almost inhuman form, Jansen Cornelius reached out and snuffed out the candle in the visitor’s hand.
“What? Don’t want to see me?” the visiting officer smiled cheerfully, “Or don’t want me to see you?”
With that, he snapped his fingers again.
The candlelight once again illuminated the earthen kiln.
Cornelius didn’t speak; propping himself up with both arms, he slowly and painfully sat up, snuffed out the candle again, took a deep breath, paused for a bit, then gently tapped the wooden barrel beneath the visitor’s seat with swollen knuckles.
Only then did the visiting officer notice something unusual; he carefully examined the wooden barrel under his seat, then turned to check the barrels under the old classmate, only to be shocked to discover these tar-coated barrels were actually all barrels of gunpowder.
“Have you gone mad?” The visiting officer stood abruptly as if a hot iron had been placed under his seat, “You’ve gone mad!”
Cornelius lowered his head and pressed his hand lightly, indicating the old classmate to take his seat again, “Better safe than sorry,” he hoarsely explained.
The visiting officer gave a light snort, torn between opposing thoughts for a moment, but ultimately pride triumphed over instinct, and he returned to his seat gracefully—only in front of Jansen Cornelius he couldn’t lose face.
This time, however, he didn’t light the lamp again.
“These young juniors have caused you enough grief,” the officer smiled broadly, mercilessly teasing, “You’ve employed tactics reserved for the Pretender Emperor’s minions.”
From deep within Cornelius’s nasal cavity came a hoarse “huff huff” sound, as if he were laughing.
Catching his breath, he raised his head and coldly criticized, “You’re late.”
“Oh, you, you, still the same as ever, always thinking others owe you, never knowing gratitude,” the officer casually dusted off his pants, “Better late than never, right? Or should I leave?”
“The Rebels are at their last breath,” Cornelius coughed lightly, “As long as your corps garrisons Kingsfort and shows its banner, They’ll follow the reality and withdraw, ending the siege of Kingsfort. Then, you can leave.”
After a short rest, Cornelius straightened his back, propped on his knees, sat up straight, and gratefully bowed to his old classmate, “This time, I owe you.”
“Rare, rare, indeed rare; isn’t this the first time? You bow to me? Or rather, bow to anyone?” The officer feigned surprise, his smile growing, “But no need, I didn’t come to save you, I came for the great cause of the Republic.”
Cornelius said nothing, but those who know his character understand that if Jansen Cornelius admits he owes someone a favor, it doesn’t matter if the other party acknowledges it or not.
“However, since you’re so earnest, let me give you more good news,” the officer smiled, “My corps has already arrived.”
“Arrived?” Cornelius raised an eyebrow, “Where? Why haven’t I received any reports?”
“Not here.” The officer’s face was even more filled with pride.
Cornelius sensed a foreboding feeling, his brow involuntarily creased; nevertheless, he could only follow the conversation, “Where, then?”
“In a more suitable place,” the officer stood up and deliberately paused for a long time, spoke slowly, “My corps is headed to—
“Maplestone City.”