Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 481 He craves an opponent

"Are we really going to evacuate, Your Excellency?"

“I’ve told you twice, Hunter, if you ask me again, I don’t care who your father is, get out of my allied forces!”

"But we clearly have the advantage, so why?"

Viscount Frey, his face full of impatience, directed his servants to load his favorite armchair into the carriage while patiently explaining to the young man before him:
"Because nobody cares about the life or death of the resistance fighters—no, actually I do care, they can't be wiped out yet!"

"Uh, why?"

"Did your father only teach you to read those stupid books? Tell me who you are and why you're standing here!"

Hunter instinctively straightened his body:
“Your Excellency, I am Hunter Godfrey Watts, a scholar from the Grand Duchy of Alvarez, here to assist you in your extermination at the Grand Duke's behest.”

“Stop, that’s enough.” Viscount Frey interrupted Hunter. “The Grand Duke sent you to assist me, not to cause me trouble!”

"But."

"The Grand Duke doesn't care about any resistance army. This is Bazel's territory, and the Grand Duke would love for as many resistance armies as possible. Let me ask you, how many times have I commanded sieges since I came here?"

"Not even once; you always seem to be busy with something else."

"Yes, after I arrived here, I occupied five castles in the Earl of Bazel's territory without losing a single soldier. It was all thanks to these resistance fighters that we had the right to stay here. Now, the nearby lands have been divided up, and we need to move to another place."

Hunter's eyes widened, his face filled with disbelief, yet he seemed to vaguely understand something.

“I studied at the Royal Military Academy for three years and was among the last graduates. I even ranked second in my graduation exam. If I wanted to, how long do you think it would take me to take Sladeingtonburg?”

"Uh, a week?"

“It will take at most an hour and a half to break through their defenses.” Viscount Frey curled his lip. “From the first day of the attack, our soldiers have been armed with spears and bows and arrows. Firearms have never been used, while I have always commanded the musketeers under the Grand Duke.”

"No wonder you only let me build catapults, and forbade me from building any other siege equipment."

Viscount Frey raised an eyebrow. This seemingly dull scholar wasn't so stupid after all.

"We can have as many soldiers as we need to fill the gaps, as for elite troops?" Viscount Frey scoffed. "They don't even deserve the title!"

"Those beggars from the White Crows couldn't even beat the conscripted farmers. Do they think they're worthy of me mobilizing my elite troops?"

"Hunter, never waste your time trying to figure out what the weak are thinking. That will only make you as weak as them. Go and challenge the stronger."

"We should seek out stronger enemies and confront them squarely. Let's stop worrying about the resistance; they don't deserve our wasted time."

Hunter scratched his head in confusion and nodded hesitantly.

"So next..."

“Bazaar has amassed an army from the south, including the most elite Frost Earth Guard and Winter Wolves. Several dukes suffered greatly at their hands in the past, and now we will take our revenge!”

"We must find them, defeat them, take over their cities and wealth, and hang the Grand Duke's coat of arms on their castles."

Viscount Frey stood with his hands behind his back and his head held high: "This is the kind of enemy we should deal with, an enemy strong enough to warrant our attention."

"Do you understand now? Don't stay here any longer. Grab your books and come with me to the battlefield. Your knowledge of siege machinery will soon come in handy." "Okay."

Watching Hunter's departing figure, Viscount Frey nodded in satisfaction.

The allied forces' march took quite some time. Although Viscount Frey was the nominal commander, he could not actually directly mobilize the armies of the other two grand dukes.

Although he cannot mobilize these people, he can make them obey because of the benefits they receive.

All three dukes have their eyes on Bazel, this juicy piece of meat. After half a year of secretly wearing him down, now is the time to deliver the final blow.

The chaos that has raged in the North for more than half a year is about to come to an end. From now on, Bazel's name will be forever erased from the North's table.

After most of the day of wrangling, arguing, and sabotage, the allied forces finally set off.

Viscount Frey sat upright in his exquisite carriage, feeling exhilarated.

He always craved a powerful enemy and longed to prove himself.

He had graduated from the Royal Military Academy more than a year ago, but all he had taken on were lousy battles, and the enemies were not even worthy of being called opponents.

The North was still somewhat backward and couldn't fully utilize his abilities.

Back then, he was among the strongest in the academy, second only to the top student.
Viscount Frey frowned. That was just a young man with no background, yet he always managed to outdo him. He had to have another match with him if he had the chance.

However, he may not have that chance. I heard that he was sent to the side of the border count. How many border counts can survive?
Viscount Frey sighed. After all, he was an opponent he respected. There weren't many people in this world whom he respected.

The allied forces marched south, and Viscount Frey sent out scouts far away—of course, towards the south, while the resistance forces behind them remained behind.

Viscount Frey never paid them any attention.

As the army marched forward, news from scouts continued to arrive.

"Can't collect grain? How is that possible? They're all farmers. How could farmers not have grain? Send some soldiers to find the grain they've hoarded!"

"The Vatican? Ignore them. Who knows what the Church's superhumans are up to now? They won't attack our army. Also, keep the soldiers in line and don't cause trouble."

"A steel monster is running on the road ahead? And it's spewing smoke? Don't worry about it, just let the army keep moving forward. Times have changed. Even if it is a supernatural monster, it can't withstand firearms."

Viscount Frey casually flipped through the intelligence reports sent by the scouts, his expression somewhat impatient.

"These are all trivial matters. How am I supposed to report this to the Grand Duke? A smooth journey ahead? This won't do, this won't do."

After a moment of contemplation, Viscount Frey's eyes suddenly lit up. He picked up a report and tossed it to the clerk beside him.

"Just say we encountered the steel monsters of the South, landing in the North! You embellish it, make it more terrifying, add some details. What details? Do I need to teach you?! Make it more evil and terrifying, then emphasize the heroic Viscount Frey's decision to go and fight them, highlighting my fearlessness and compassion!"

"Well, of course, don't be too direct. Add some indirect descriptions and show off your writing skills. This is going to be in the newspapers; even the Grand Duke will see it!"

"Alright, send over any other intelligence as well. Hopefully, it won't be anything boring."

"What? The youngest son of the Dragon Fang Duke has an upset stomach? Why didn't you say something so important sooner? Quick, have the steward send some medicine over, or should I go myself?"

(End of this chapter)