Chapter 378: Stealing Laziness and Playing Tricks?

"Ladies and gentlemen, ahead is our target for today!"

"And for today's battle, we must give our all, because if we delay too long and the beastfolk receive reinforcements, the difficulty of capturing this wooden fortress will increase dramatically!"

"Therefore, you forces from the Western Region, Eastern Region, and Southern Region—lead your troops in the frontal assault!"

"I will lead two thousand legion soldiers to flank and pin them on both sides!"

"Do any of you have objections to this arrangement?"

Commander Ryan did not delay—he immediately began deploying the battle plan.

His arrangement was, in fact, fairly balanced.

Although the frontal assault would fall entirely to the nobles, making them the primary focus of the beastfolk's attention,

this was also the unspoken rule of past battles: vassals serve their lords—if you won't be the vanguard, what good are you?

"No objections, Commander Ryan!"

"Commander Ryan, we follow your orders!"

As expected, nobles from the Western and Eastern Regions quickly voiced their approval.

Mil, the noble who now represented the Southern Region, was about to speak as well.

At that moment, Gervas suddenly jabbed him in the ribs and quickly whispered a few words behind Mil's back.

Mil froze, then said, "Gervas, won't this be a bit... bad?"

"No problem! Don't worry!" Gervas gave no explanation, but his tone was firm.

Mil no longer hesitated. "Commander Ryan, I have an objection!"

Commander Ryan blinked in surprise.

The other nobles around them turned to look.

"Baron Mil, what is your objection?"

"Commander Ryan, I... we don't want to attack the front!" Mil felt a flush of shame, his face burning as he spoke.

"This...?" The nobles all turned their heads, faces filled with confusion.

Ryan frowned in puzzlement. "Baron Mil, then which side do you wish to attack?"

"I want to attack the right flank!"

The nobles erupted in uproar.

Mainly because everyone knew the flanking assault was the lazy direction.

Mil had actually volunteered for it—this was nothing like his heroic image from just a few days ago!

Still, given Mil's previous contributions, no one dared gossip.

Ryan was stunned, then turned his gaze to Gervas.

He saw Gervas give an almost imperceptible wink.

Commander Ryan finally nodded. "Baron Mil, given your Southern Region nobles' previous contributions, I will grant your request—the right flank assault is yours!"

"My thousand legion soldiers will reinforce the Western and Eastern Region nobles at the front. Do any of you have objections?"

The nobles certainly had objections.

But since it was Mil, everyone remained silent and shook their heads.

Ryan wasted no more time. "Then let the battle begin! Let us finish this swiftly!"

Oooohooo!

Amid the blare of horns, the noble forces split into three.

Roughly six thousand from the Eastern and Western Regions, plus seven or eight hundred from the Northern Legion, advanced toward the front of the beastfolk's wooden fortress.

One thousand Northern Legion soldiers headed for the left flank.

The remaining Southern Legion troops moved toward the right flank.

Amid shouts and cries, the frontal force launched its assault first.

As the vanguard, they had no heavy weapons—no trebuchets, no siege towers.

Instead, soldiers carried simple wooden ladders and charged toward the fortress walls.

The only remotely effective siege weapon was a hastily assembled crude battering ram.

Four wheels mounted a freshly cut log with an iron-clad tip; above it, a wooden roof covered with a layer of fully soaked oxhide.

Pushed by soldiers, the ram quickly reached the fortress gate and began thudding—bang, bang, bang.

But behind the wooden gate lay massive wooden bolts and a row of supporting posts; it would take time before any effect was seen.

Of course, the beastfolk had no good countermeasures against the ram either.

They could only loosely fire a few arrows or drop stones.

All were blocked by the wooden roof.

The two sides remained locked in stalemate—a pathetic mutual bickering.

The real bloodshed came from the ant-like assaults on the ladders surrounding the walls.

The serf soldiers wore no armor; many didn't even have simple wooden shields.

During the climb, arrows, stones, and boiling golden fluid could all become weapons of death.

Even if they somehow managed to climb the six-meter-high walls thanks to sheer numbers, they faced the slave soldiers' varied weapons.

In short, screams and moans echoed constantly along the wooden walls.

Yet the nobles watching from afar seemed utterly accustomed to it—even Mil and others showed no change in expression.

Only Gervas was different.

Though he had fought in many battles, this was his first time witnessing such a large-scale ant-climbing war up close.

He finally understood what "cannon fodder" meant.

Speaking of it, on the wilderness battlefield, frontline slave soldiers still had a slim chance of survival.

But now, those assigned to lead the assault on the city wall were truly expendable—step forward and die.

Yet they couldn't hold back, for the armored soldiers behind them also served as execution squads.

Anyone who showed cowardice and retreated would be beaten or scolded at best, killed outright at worst.

So no matter what, death was certain—but if they shrank back, their families would suffer too, with no compensation; knowing they would die, they could only grit their teeth and charge forward.

"Kill!"

At that moment, shouts of battle erupted from the left, as a thousand Northern Frontier Legion soldiers joined the fray.

Their arrival eased some of the pressure on the front.

"Huh? Look—what's going on with the Southern Frontier Legion on the right?"

"Yes, why have they split into two groups?"

At that instant, murmurs of surprise spread among the nobles.

It turned out that, as expected, the Southern Frontier force assigned to attack the right flank had divided its original three-thousand-strong unit.

One thousand continued advancing toward the wall; the other two thousand stood motionless, idly halting on the open ground to the right.

Earlier, when Mil had proposed attacking the right, the nobles had held their tongues.

But now, they could no longer contain themselves, whispering among themselves.

Seeing this, Mil quickly turned to look at Gervas.

For such a move by the Southern Frontier force had nothing to do with any of the nobles.

Before the assault began, they had already handed command over to Gervas's Knight-Lieutenant.

Therefore, this division of forces was entirely Gervas's doing.

Gervas offered no explanation for now, only giving Mil a reassuring glance.

Seeing this, Mil could only grit his teeth and watch in silence, as if the murmurs around him didn't exist.

Commander Commander Lai En continued watching Gervas; seeing Gervas's calm expression, he simply pretended not to hear.

For he had already noticed that all of Gervas's subordinates were among the two thousand who had not joined the assault.

Thus, Gervas's actions must have had deeper intent.

After all, Gervas was hardly the type to shirk or cheat.