Being a knight is not easy

Chapter 252 Next step

The sealing wax stamp of the second-level summons left a deep mark on the parchment, like a red-hot iron block falling into ice water, instantly stirring up a boiling panic in each territory.

"Another quarter?"

圣明苏行省某伯爵府的议事厅内，老管家枯瘦的手指划过账簿，墨迹未干的算式触目惊心：【现有兵力4000→征调1000→留守3000→需驻防据点27处→各据点平均111人】

The quill pen suddenly broke, and the splattered ink resembled those border outposts on the map that were about to spiral out of control.

“The 1000 men we conscripted last time haven’t returned yet,” the head guard said in a hoarse voice. “The slave labor camp in Black Pine Forest has already rioted twice.”

The count stared at the mottled sword marks on the wall, remnants of the turmoil in his territory thirty years ago. He suddenly coughed violently, the blood from his palm leaving a glaring red imprint on the summons: "Tell the envoy from the capital that the territory can only send 800 men."

The Benpas family's underground vault.

"Crack!"

The treasury steward snapped the neck of the third knight who attempted to smuggle the gold coins.

He gazed at the seven new whip marks on the pillars.

This is the seventh theft this week.

Outside the window, the patrols, stripped of their elite troops, were futilely chasing after hordes of serfs, whose once docile eyes now gleamed with a strange ferocity.

"Remove another quarter of the garrison," the steward said, wiping the blood-stained silver coins. "Those prisoners of war in the dungeon are probably going to turn the whole castle upside down."

A Viscount's Private Diary:
[On the seventh day of the Frosty Month, a second-level mobilization order arrived. According to custom, twenty knights and three hundred infantry should be dispatched. However, half of our personal guards were lost in the suppression of the riot last month. If more troops are mobilized now, the vineyard slaves may rebel again. We have no choice but to use the old and weak to fill the ranks. We hope the inspector of the capital will accept a bribe from Amber.]

At the western border military camp, Solomon toyed with the latest troop strength report and suddenly let out a laugh like an owl: "Interesting. This time, the 'elite' reported by each territory are all old men who can't even put on their armor properly."

He kicked the iron cage beside his feet, inside which was a border baron who had tried to impersonate a soldier with a scarecrow. On the table next to the cage, thirty-seven similar pieces of evidence of "faking it" were piled up like a small mountain.

The quartermaster, wiping his sweat, whispered, "Sir, at this rate of quality, if a real war breaks out, the front lines might not survive the winter."

"Who cares?" Solomon suddenly crushed the report, the scraps flying like snowflakes, revealing his gleaming white teeth. "Anyway, when Wilke's army attacks..."

"It will never be us, these short-sighted nobles, who will break first."

In the morning mist of Pioneer Town, tens of thousands of ragged refugees lined up in a long queue.

The bloodstains from their shackles still lingered on their ankles, yet they looked up at the newly erected anchor cross flag in the town center.

The flagpole was cast from a broken statue of a lord, and it gleamed with a cold, bronze light in the morning sun.

"Those who have finished registering, go to the East District to collect your tools!"

The sound of the iron jaws pierced through the noise.

He stood on a makeshift wooden platform, his scarred face more intimidating than any whip. But at this moment, he pointed to a small mountain of shovels, sickles, and seed bags.

These are all farm tools hastily made from scraps from the water power workshop, with the blades uniformly branded with purple iron anchor patterns.

Robin stood atop the clock tower, the system interface floating before his eyes:

Ghost General's Loyalty: 87
His gaze swept across three directions outside the city—there, on the ruins of the burned-down lord's castle, craftsmen were already measuring the foundations.

The Ghost General's plan was clear: using the three new castles as fulcrums, he would build a control network covering the entire Pioneer Town. "My lord."

The ghost general appeared behind them at some unknown time, his armor still covered in morning dew.

He handed me a roll of rough papyrus with crookedly drawn plans of three castles on it.

The location of the arrow tower was specially marked as the mounting platform for the water-powered repeating crossbow, while the stables were converted into a farm implement warehouse.

Is the reason for the +2 loyalty?

Robin chuckled.

In the corner of the drawing, a field of bauhinia flowers was drawn with charcoal, and next to it, in childish handwriting, were the words: "A gift for the Lord."

This was clearly the work of a war orphan who was adopted by a demon general.

"Granted." Robin flicked his finger, shattering the blueprints.

The ghost general's single eye suddenly contracted.

As he knelt on one knee, the clanging of his armor startled a flock of white doves: "Your subordinate is determined to make the three administrative centers into fortresses that will never fall before the spring planting, thus completely connecting the entire territory into one."

As the bells rang, the procession of refugees erupted in cheers.

At the distribution point in the eastern district, the first old farmer to receive farm tools was trembling as he touched the anchor cross brand on his sickle.

The steel of this scythe is even better than that of his former lord, the knight's sword.

In the newly built school in the distance, children recited in unison a newly composed nursery rhyme: "The anchor crosses the ground, the iron plow breaks through the frozen earth."

Inside the clock tower, the flickering candlelight cast the shadows of the two figures onto the mottled stone wall, resembling menacing beasts.

The ghost general slowly unfurled the blood-stained sheepskin map, its single eye flashing with a sharp light, like two unsheathed blades, ready to dissect every detail of the map thoroughly.

The ghost general's voice was deep and cold, like the scraping of iron: "My lord, the nobles of the Holy Ming Su Province are almost completely drained."

The ghost general's fingertips traced the still-wet ink of the troop markings on the map, then pressed down heavily, leaving three bloody finger imprints.

"The second level-two mobilization order means that each territory needs to draw another 25% of its troops. However, the troops mobilized last time are still stuck at the front lines. The actual fighting strength of those territories is less than 15%. According to intelligence from runaway serfs, seven viscountries have begun to fill their ranks with the old, weak, sick, and disabled."

Robin leaned forward: "Tell me your plan."

A ruthless glint flashed in the Ghost General's eyes: "Infiltration plan: send three hundred knights disguised as merchants, carrying weapons and equipment. Sell them to those impoverished nobles at 30% of the market price." He sneered and pointed to the blade of a sword, "This will greatly increase the armed forces of these nobles, but they won't know that this will be evidence of their treason."

Robin nodded slightly, a smile playing on his lips. "Good, continue."

The Ghost General emphasized, "Focus our attack on these three weakest border baronies." He pointed again to the bloody fingerprints on the map, "Send two hundred knights to each location. Launch a blitzkrieg, seize the granaries, and immediately burn them down. Without food, those nobles are like toothless tigers."

Robin tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table: "What about the psychological warfare?"

A cruel glint flashed in the Ghost General's eyes: "Smear the captured nobles with honey and tie them to the side of an anthill. But don't kill them; let them suffer. Then send the escaped serfs back to their original territories with portraits of the nobles begging for mercy. At the same time, use water-powered printing presses in the occupied territories to mass-produce the 'Iron Anchor Code.' When those serfs see the once high and mighty nobles in such a sorry state, and then receive the code, they'll know they too have rights..."

The ghost general paused. "My lord, what do you think will happen?"

(End of this chapter)