Chapter 353 - 251: Fight! And We Will Lose
John stood on the city wall, wearing armor for the first time in a long while. He gazed out at the vast, dark mass of Henry’s army, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes.
His lips parted slightly, as if to say something, but in the end, he only let out a heavy sigh.
"Henry, you’re finally here." John’s voice held a trace of resignation, yet also a hint of relief.
The defenders behind him wore grim expressions, their hands gripping their weapons tightly. These soldiers were ready for battle, willing to fight for their homes and for their pay.
This long period of comfortable living and good treatment was enough to make them fight to the death!
"Warriors! Henry’s army is here. We all know his forces are immensely powerful. But we have our property, our families, and our honor. We cannot let Henry take it all away so easily!"
The soldiers nodded in agreement.
If John had said this last year, people would have cursed his name for a lifetime. But now, his words resonated with many of them.
They really did have their own property now. With their improved pay and status, their honor was no longer an empty word but something tangible that earned them the genuine envy of others.
If they lost, they would almost certainly become Henry’s serfs—sent to build roads, toil in the mines, or work on farms.
Who would want to fall back to rock bottom after just one year of living well? There’s a saying: to block someone’s path to wealth is like murdering their parents. Right now, Henry was their greatest enemy.
John was quite satisfied. The long period of intense training and high pay had not been for nothing.
"Hold the city and wait for reinforcements! When they arrive, that will be our time to sally forth from the gates and capture Henry!"
The soldiers roared in unison, hoping that day would come soon—preferably, that the reinforcements would arrive immediately.
The officers and soldiers might not have known, but the nobles who had donned their armor and ascended the walls knew the truth: they had no reinforcements whatsoever.
They stared numbly at the enemy army. This time, they feared the odds were truly stacked against them.
The atmosphere within the city was oppressive. People from every social class were scared into silence, suffocated by the weight of the impending war.
Wealthy merchants with large estates sat pale-faced in their luxurious drawing rooms, hands clutching their wine glasses, yet they had no mind to even taste the contents.
They were filled with anxiety, terrified that the war would wash away the fortunes they had spent a lifetime building.
Visions of a war-torn city and ruined homes already played out before their eyes. Their gold, silver, precious antiques, and heirlooms could all turn to dust in a single night.
They glanced out the windows from time to time, praying for the war to end quickly so they could return to their former lives of peace and prosperity.
In contrast, the poorest citizens, who owned nothing at all, gathered in small groups, murmuring amongst themselves.
A flicker of greed and anticipation shone in their eyes. They awaited the moment the city fell, hoping to snatch some valuables in the ensuing chaos.
To them, this was a potential opportunity to turn their lives around, a chance to change their fate.
They dreamed of acquiring a small fortune in the chaos and living a life free from want from then on.
Yet, this greedy anticipation was tinged with anxiety. They didn’t know what consequences the war would bring, or if they would even survive the ensuing chaos.
’What if the soldiers start looting everywhere when they break in?’
The shopkeepers, who had modest assets, were frantic. They shuttered their businesses, hastily moving all their valuable merchandise into their cellars and sealing them shut with heavy planks and iron locks.
They were anxious and helpless, able to do nothing but pray that the war would end quickly, their shops could reopen, and business would thrive once more.
They rushed back and forth between their shops and homes, constantly checking that their goods were safe and their doors and windows were secure.
The city’s artisans had also laid down their tools, gathering around the hearths in their homes.
They felt no tension. They were skilled laborers. After the war, they were certain to find work again and could continue to make a living with their craft. They just didn’t know which direction this war would push their lives.
Meanwhile, the women bustled about their homes, preparing dried rations and water for their menfolk.
Their eyes were filled with worry and a reluctance to part, fearing their husbands and sons would meet a terrible fate on the battlefield.
At a time like this, it didn’t matter if you were in the Militia or were one of the Recruited Soldiers, or just an able-bodied man—they handed you a blade, and you became a soldier.
The women all prayed for their family members to return safely. The little ones played furtively in corners, only sensing that the adults had all become unusually busy.
They didn’t know why the grown-ups were in such a panic, but when they saw the worry and fear on their faces, they would grow quiet as well.
Throughout the city, from the nobles to the commoners, from wealthy merchants to artisans, from women to children—all were worried, hopeful, anxious, or lost.
In this tableau, every person struggled for their own survival and their own future. The war was a sword hanging over all their heads, ready to fall at any moment and change their destinies forever.
Meanwhile, Henry sat astride his horse, gazing at the city before him. A cold light glinted in his eyes.
’We’re finally here. A fine city indeed. It will be mine.’
He turned to look at the Attendant and officers beside him. They all wore stern expressions, but their eyes betrayed a hint of excitement.