Chapter 245 - 197: Emperor, What Have You Done?
"Selas, Vasco, get the army ready to move. From now on, we won’t be making camp to rest at noon. A short break after lunch will be enough."
Henry decided to increase the marching speed, halving the daily rest time. He was already impatient to get back and train his army in his castle!
’Sigh, if only the Overlord Training grounds could be used to train new recruits anytime, anywhere. I can’t possibly return to Westwood Laine’s castle every single time I need to train new soldiers, can I? That would be such a waste of time!’
Selas, Roland, and the other Attendants ate their roasted meat, bewildered. ’Did something happen back home? No, that can’t be it.’
Although they didn’t know why there was such a rush to get home, they followed Henry’s orders. Together with the other officers, they relayed Henry’s command and directed the army to quicken its pace.
Although the soldiers would grow tired from the forced march each day, their loyalty to Henry compelled them to quicken their steps.
This was the power of faith, and Henry was their faith.
Huh? Faith...
Selas and the others rode quickly through the ranks, loudly relaying Henry’s orders: "Increase the marching speed! Daily rest time is halved! Our goal is to return to Westwood Laine’s castle as soon as possible!"
On the other side of the column, Roland was shouting, "The Baron has given the order! We must advance at top speed. This is a test of our will and stamina, but I believe we can all do it!"
As the marching speed increased, Henry’s army snaked across the landscape like a long dragon.
They passed through forests and crossed over hills.
Although their daily rest time was halved, the army’s morale was exceptionally high.
They were eager to return to their homes faster. The sooner they got home, the sooner they could go about buying furniture.
Many of them had enough money to buy a house in the urban district of Westwood Laine, but they just hadn’t had the time to furnish their own places.
’Besides, if you’re going to complain about a forced march, you need a good reason, right? We get a hot, savory meal with meat every day. What’s a little marching compared to that?’
’With treatment like this, they could make us fight every day and we’d still call him a benevolent lord!’
As Henry’s army finally approached Westwood Laine’s castle, expressions of anticipation and excitement appeared on every face.
Home was just ahead.
When the unfinished, reinforced earthen and wooden walls of Westwood Laine’s castle came into view, the soldiers erupted in cheers.
Their campaign was finally, truly over. They were home!
Henry looked up at the still-unfinished earthen and wooden walls, a satisfied smile on his face. Although progress was slow, the wall’s sturdiness and height were already taking shape, enough to repel an enemy invasion. At the very least, it was sufficient to protect the urban district.
Every log, every handful of earth, every boulder, would form this protective belt for his people.
Henry’s gaze swept back and forth along the wall. He noticed workers busily hauling earth and lumber, tamping down the wall’s foundation.
Their movements were slow but full of focus. Some of these workers were recruited from nearby villages, others were newly arrived residents, but they all shared a common goal: to build a home that would shelter them all.
This would provide them with greater protection, allowing them to live, farm, and raise families on this land in peace.
"Speed up the progress, but don’t sacrifice quality."
Henry overheard the supervising Engineer say, "We need this wall, but we also need it to stand the test of time."
Henry nodded to himself. ’The construction of this wall isn’t just to deal with potential wars in the short term, but also for long-term development.’
Only by ensuring every inch of the wall was sturdy enough could it resist any threat.
The people of Westwood Laine had already heard the news of Henry’s return. When they spotted a vast procession flying the banner of the Bro Clan, they all knew their lord had come back.
Henry’s army slowly entered Westwood Laine, the streets lined with welcoming crowds.
Children waved small, homemade flags, women held gifts in their hands, and the men raised their cups to toast the triumphant soldiers.
The air was filled with a festive atmosphere, and every face beamed with pride.
A great bell began to toll at just the right moment, its peel echoing over the entire city district.
It was a remembrance for the soldiers who had fallen, an acknowledgment of the soldiers who returned victorious, and, of course, an affirmation of Henry’s own abilities.
Seeing such a welcoming scene, the soldiers couldn’t help but break into satisfied smiles.
’A man lives for moments like these. What’s the point if you can’t show off?’
The residents eagerly presented their homemade gifts: fresh bread, cured meats, homemade jams, and barrel after barrel of beer.
The gifts were simple, but they were filled with heartfelt sentiment—the most direct form of thanks and support for the soldiers.
It was the barrels of beer that put the soldiers in a bit of a bind. ’How are we supposed to carry these? It’s tiring for one person to carry a barrel, but it looks clumsy for two or three to lift one. That doesn’t fit our image as elite soldiers.’
’Should we turn it down...? *Hsss*... But I’d hate to leave it behind.’
Fortunately, the Westwood Laine Militia Team was maintaining order along the streets. Seeing the soldiers’ predicament, they quickly came forward to help.
The soldiers were relieved of their awkward pressure, and the Militia members, grinning from ear to ear, could join the army’s ranks and experience what it felt like to be the center of adoring attention.