Chapter 153: Showoff And Debates...
"Wait." Said Simon, eyes fixed on the fortress ahead, issuing the command calmly.
Atop the walls of the fortress, a figure who appeared to be the leader stepped into view, observing the incoming reinforcements from the Brambleford army.
Pointing toward the wall, Kai said. "Your Highness, that’s Sigurd Stone, the ringleader of this band. His father was involved in the Pond conspiracy against you. After their plan failed, I led the Dunmere troops in a surprise attack on the Stone family’s fortress. We wiped out most of their retainers, but Sigurd managed to escape."
The harsh sunlight made Simon squint. After the Pond rebels were wiped out, he had ordered the news to be sealed and immediately launched an operation to capture the aristocrats involved in the rebellion. Many were caught before they even had time to react. Had the Stone family been more alert at the time, they might have held onto their fortress.
Lancelot had reported that Kai had used a trick to take the fortress, posing as a merchant buying grain, his men launched a surprise attack at the gates and captured it.
But now, barely a month later, the Stone family had used the same method to take it back.
"Let’s go with the usual plan," Simon said. "Try to persuade them to surrender, buy time, and wait for them to let their guard down."
These rebels were different from the retainers of noble houses like the Redwyck or Goldwynd families. Back then, many were reluctant servants who could be talked into surrendering. But this group had resisted even after the Reaver War, which meant they were ready to fight to the death.
Worse, most of them were likely young nobles themselves, not oppressed servants. Persuasion would not affect them. Kai acknowledged the order and stepped forward to shout terms at the enemy atop the walls, offering the usual ’surrender and live’ line.
But before he could finish, an arrow shot down from the battlements, landing with a sharp thunk near his feet.
Benjamin glanced up at the wall and remarked. "That’s a skilled archer. That’s more than 230 meters; most reaver bows only shoot up to 180 meters. This one has serious strength."
Then he turned to Lancelot. "Fetch my bow."
Liam laughed. "Those fools dared show off their archery in front of the old general? Everyone knows your bowmanship is the pride of the Imperial Guards!"
"I haven’t practised in five years," Benjamin said modestly. "Let’s just hope I don’t embarrass myself in front of His Highness." But from the tone of his voice, everyone could hear his confidence.
Simon smiled. "General, your archery is legendary. Please, go ahead."
Taking the bow from Lancelot, Benjamin’s weapon was clearly much thicker and heavier than those used by the Brambleford troops. It was obvious that it required immense strength to draw.
Without even dismounting, Benjamin nocked an arrow, pulled the string back, and let it fly with a sharp whoosh.
A scream echoed from atop the wall, the same archer who had fired earlier tumbled from the battlements, an arrow embedded clean through his chest.
"Bravo!" Lancelot and Liam shouted at the same time.
Kai stood stunned. He hadn’t known who this new general was after all, Benjamin had only just arrived in Dunmere, and word hadn’t spread yet.
The Brambleford soldiers were equally astonished. Many of them had secretly resented Benjamin’s sudden appointment. In their eyes, Lancelot had always been the rightful commander.
But now they understood, Prince Simon had not made this decision lightly.
Simon’s lips curled into a faint smile. After hearing two days of bad news, this moment finally lifted his spirits. At least Benjamin lived up to his reputation. He would be a formidable asset in the fight against reaver cavalry.
The bandits atop the wall clearly panicked after witnessing Benjamin’s shot. A few of them peeked over the edge, then quickly ducked behind cover.
Generally, a bow’s range was around 180 meters, with effective killing power within 120. Beyond that, only high-arching shots had any real force. The fact that Benjamin could accurately kill someone at such a distance was terrifying. Without decades of training, it was impossible.
It also proved his superhuman arm strength.
"How about that?" Liam asked, smug. "In my opinion, bows are still better than crossbows. Your Highness, I never quite agreed with the plan to equip the Brambleford army with so many crossbows instead of bows."
Benjamin handed the bow back to Lancelot and snorted. "What did your father even teach you? His Highness is absolutely right to favour crossbows. Training an archer takes three to five years, more if you want them to be accurate. A crossbowman only needs basic training to be battle-ready. Especially for defending fortresses, crossbows are far more useful. In close range, crossbow bolts are even more powerful and more accurate than arrows."
Liam went quiet. Lancelot chuckled on the side, enjoying the scolding.
He, too, had once doubted the policy, but over time, he came to understand. And with the reavers advancing south, there was no time to train archers.
"You’re right, General," Simon said. "That’s exactly what I was thinking. And in a few days, you’ll see something even more powerful than bows, crossbows, or catapults."
Benjamin raised an eyebrow. "You mean that’s what you’ve been working on at the machinery department all this time?"
"Exactly." Simon grinned. "Better get off your horse soon, this thing packs a punch."
The bandits in the fortress had no idea they were cornered. They never imagined the Brambleford army would mobilise so many troops just for one fortress. Nor did they realise that stealing a shipment of cement had sealed their fate.
Three days later, a wagon escorted by cavalry rolled into the Brambleford army’s forward camp outside the fortress.
In those three days, the Brambleford army and the rebels had mostly traded insults and volleys of arrows. Benjamin had picked off several enemy archers.
Siege ladders had also been prepared, but Simon didn’t want to waste soldiers in a drawn-out assault.
Yet the fortress couldn’t be left alone. Not only did it contain valuable cement, but it also sat on a key supply route, posing a serious threat to Dunmere’s logistics.
"My Lord, the cannon has arrived." Said Fjord, accompanied by twelve craftsmen from the machinery department.
Looking at the carefully wrapped cannon on the wagon, Simon broke into a wide smile.
"General Benjamin." He said, turning. "This is my secret weapon."