Chapter 429: The Feeling of Being Targeted by Beastmen!

"Wait!"

"Wait?" Mi Gen's face was full of questions.

"That's right—wait. The crisis at Lindongcheng isn't something our single unit can change!"

"So now, all we can do is wait and see whether the Commander-in-Chief and the others can resolve this crisis!"

"If the crisis at Lindongcheng is resolved, we'll naturally be safe too!"

"My lord, what if the crisis at Lindongcheng can't be resolved?" Mi Gen asked cautiously.

"If they can't resolve it, then we can only leave it to fate—our western side is also occupied by the beastmen!"

"As for heading north, that's even less of an option—it's straight into the beastmen's stronghold. So we'd best pray the God of Glory shows mercy to Lindongcheng and lets it weather this crisis!" Gervas replied with a smile.

Mi Gen was nearly in tears.

"God of Glory above, please mercifully bestow your divine grace! Let Lindongcheng survive this crisis!"

Gervas shook his head with a smile.

To truly turn this tide, the God of Glory himself would have to lend a mighty hand.

For now, he could only take it one step at a time.

Of course, his true hope wasn't at Lindongcheng—it was with the system.

He just hoped the system would deliver something powerful soon.

……

Time passed, and two days later arrived.

When the two ten thousand Beastmen of the Simian race appeared on the southern road, the last shred of hope among Lindongcheng's nobles vanished entirely.

Originally, they had clung to the hope that the Beast King's words might be false.

But with the arrival of these twenty thousand beastmen, they finally understood what despair meant.

"What do we do now? Fourty thousand beastmen were already overwhelming—now another twenty thousand have arrived! We've lost even the chance to retreat!"

"That's right! Worse still, our grain supplies won't last much longer!"

"This is it—we're going to die here in Lindongcheng?"

"We never should've entered Lindongcheng in the first place. Back then, the beastmen were fleeing on their own—clearly a trap. We fell for their scheme…"

Soon, despair began to spread through the city.

Although the Commander-in-Chief immediately summoned all nobles to calm and encourage them,

in this desperate situation, any words of comfort or encouragement had almost no effect.

The Commander-in-Chief had no better solution.

He could only continue to encourage the troops while tightening food rations even further.

Even the hidden food reserves previously hoarded by the nobles were confiscated again.

As a result, the nobles grew resentful toward the Commander-in-Chief.

Fortunately, everyone knew chaos must be avoided now, so these grievances remained only muttered curses in private.

"Ha ha, Commander-in-Chief, how's your food holding up? How many more days can you last?"

Time passed again, and five more days went by.

The beastmen's assaults continued.

Although their attack intensity hadn't increased, as the kingdom's army food supplies dwindled, the soldiers' combat effectiveness grew weaker by the day.

Even facing the same level of assault, they struggled more and more to respond.

Worse still, the Beast King employed a tactic that made the Commander-in-Chief's teeth grind.

He set up grills upwind of the city, roasting fresh wild beasts until their fat sizzled and dripped.

The aroma of roasted meat drifted on the breeze, filling every inch of Lindongcheng's ramparts.

The already starving soldiers and nobles could only swallow saliva at the smell.

"Beast King, thank you for your concern—but I must inform you of bad news: according to current conditions, our grain can still last a full month. Ha ha!" The Commander-in-Chief answered calmly, his face showing no sign of distress.

The Beast King's brow twitched slightly, his expression skeptical.

"Is that so? Commander-in-Chief, are you lying? Last time, at least half your grain was burned. I doubt you can last ten days!"

"How about this? Commander-in-Chief, I'll give you a chance: if you surrender, I swear by the Simian God to guarantee your safety and that of your nobles!"

"By the way, isn't there a noble named Mil in your ranks? Hand him over first—prove your sincerity!"

"Well, Commander-in-Chief—will you surrender?"

"Beast King, stop dreaming. Our royal army has no cowards—only warriors who die fighting."

"So I suggest you retreat back to the northern wastelands as soon as possible!"

"As for Mil—he's a hero of our royal army, and he'll kill many more Simian beastmen for us!" The Commander-in-Chief sneered.

"Hmph! Commander-in-Chief, you'll come crawling to me eventually!" The Beast King's face turned dark, and without another word, the war horns blared once more.

The Commander-in-Chief didn't linger on the ramparts.

Only after descending from the wall did his face finally betray exhaustion.

For days now, he'd been managing defenses, worrying over grain supplies and troop morale—working late every night, barely sleeping.

"Commander-in-Chief!"

At once, the nobles on the staircase greeted him.

Hearing them, the Commander-in-Chief forced himself to rally, smiling: "My lords, please don't worry!"

"We still have one hundred thousand troops stationed at Heilongcheng and Hongshicheng."

"Though our communications are cut, I'm certain they'll realize our plight soon and come to our aid!"

At that moment, the Commander-in-Chief spotted Mil. "Mil Baron, did you hear what the Beast King just said? You've become someone even he's eager to claim!"

Mil nearly burst into tears.

He'd previously dismissed Gervas's warning, thinking being targeted by beastmen wasn't such a big deal.

But now, trapped in desperation, he understood how unbearable it was to be hunted by them.

"Commander-in-Chief, we'll win this, right?" Mil didn't want to lose and fall into beastmen hands.

"We will," the Commander-in-Chief nodded.

Then he left the ramparts immediately.

The nobles, meanwhile, each harbored their own thoughts—how many truly believed rescue would come remained unknown.

Many nobles held a pessimistic outlook.

Everyone knew that without the Commander-in-Chief and the two Dukes' orders, the rear armies would likely dare not risk advancing.

After all, the risks were enormous.

The more cautious might send word back to the capital for instructions.

But with the delay of such a round-trip, could they even hold out that long? It was highly uncertain.

"No—we must find a way out for ourselves!" In a small house in Chengnan, Willard and Solit sat on the sofa, faces heavy with worry.

They were among the pessimistic nobles.

"Solit, do you have any ideas?" Willard asked upon hearing Solit's words.

"Willard, didn't you hear what the Beast King said today? He wants Mil Baron!"

"I heard him—but we can't just hand Mil over to them!"

Solit rolled his eyes. "Of course not. And Willard, you probably don't know—Mil is nothing but a man of empty reputation."

In past battles, the real credit went to someone else—but since that person didn't want fame, they passed the credit onto Mil!

"This…?" Willard's eyes widened—he hadn't expected Solit to reveal such news. "Then who is it?"