Knight: Becoming King of the World

Chapter 131: Chapter 110: Finished an Offensive Siege, Now a Defensive One?

"My lord, we’ve also found a large amount of grain in the castle’s storehouses. Even without further resupply, between our own provisions and the stockpiles here, it’s enough for our entire army to live on until next spring’s planting."

"There’s wheat, barley, rye, potatoes, pearl rice, and so on, as well as cured meat and dried fish. Plus, there are quite a few wine barrels—likely high-quality wine."

"Excellent. These provisions will provide ample logistical support for our upcoming operations. See that they are stored properly. We can’t afford any losses."

"Yes, my lord. I’ve already assigned soldiers to guard the supplies."

Henry shook his head and explained, "Everyone still able to move within this castle is one of my soldiers. When I say guard them, I mean you need to watch for mold and spoilage."

Claude had a moment of realization. ’I’m so swamped, I was actually worried about theft.’

Henry’s gaze returned to the inventory list. He noticed some additional entries. "Why is there such a large quantity of jewelry and art?"

Claude smiled. "We discovered these treasures in the castle’s vault, including some precious gems, gold and silver vessels, and exquisite tapestries."

"My lord, you are in great need of such things to maintain your station."

"Make a note. Once the fighting is over, arrange for these treasures to be sorted and appraised. If any are particularly valuable, sell them. These things aren’t worth as much as a sack of grain."

Claude grinned, accepted his orders, and left. ’Are this jewelry, art, and these decorations really that expensive? Are they priceless? Not necessarily.’

At that moment, the castle’s open grounds were filled with makeshift tents. Fires flickered between them as the soldiers finally got a chance to relax.

Because Henry’s army was so large, the barracks in Ximira Castle weren’t big enough, even though the castle itself was well-built and larger than Westwood Laine’s castle.

The barracks housing was prioritized for the wounded. The other soldiers would have to make do with tents inside the castle for now.

Between the tents, the aroma of roasting meat wafted from makeshift bonfires. Barrels of beer were placed in prominent spots, and soldiers sat around the fires, their laughter and chatter rising and falling.

Henry, wearing an imperial robe, came into the camp. The robe, originally baggy, was now tight on his frame, which paradoxically made him look even more sharp and capable.

The Empire’s nobility believed that since the fabric for imperial robes was expensive, a baggier robe was a better demonstration of one’s wealth.

’It made some sense, but not much.’

"Soldiers! Tonight, let’s cast aside our fatigue and enjoy this hearty feast! We have plenty of food and fine wine, so let us toast to our victory!"

The soldiers cheered, raising their cups in response to Henry’s words.

Beer foamed and churned in their cups. Grease from the roasting meat dripped onto the fire, making a SIZZLING sound. The air was filled with a tempting aroma.

"Here, try some of this roasted meat," one soldier said to his comrade beside him.

"Mmm, this tastes incredible!"

Another soldier took a huge bite, a look of pure satisfaction on his face.

Claude observed all this from the side, seeing the smiles on the soldiers’ faces. ’For them, this simple reward is more than just food and drink; it’s a form of mental comfort and encouragement.’

The atmosphere of the banquet grew more and more lively. The soldiers began to sing the army songs of Westwood Laine, their voices echoing in the night sky.

Henry sat by the fire, listening to the soldiers’ songs and enjoying the wine and roasted meat alongside them.

In another corner of the castle, the captured soldiers were huddled together. Their hands and feet were bound with thick ropes, stringing them together and tethering them to a pile of large stones.

Their eyes were fixed on the lively scene illuminated by the firelight, their noses catching the scent of roast meat and beer drifting on the wind.

Their dinner was only black bread as hard as a rock. After the people of the Empire got rich, they nicknamed it "big black brick." Every bite was a challenge to one’s teeth, and they had forgotten that this black bread was once the staple food for self-employed farmers and the Free People.

Now, only serfs would eat such a thing.

In the dungeon, a young captive soldier whispered to his companion, "Do you smell that? It’s the aroma of roasted meat. I can hear the beer foaming. I can almost taste it."

The old veteran next to him sighed, his voice laced with bitterness. "Aye, that smell is hard to resist. But all we can do is lie here and smell it, with nothing for ourselves."

"Why did the Baron let the grain sit in the storehouses instead of feeding us? Why didn’t he recruit more soldiers? Sigh."

The veteran shook his head, a trace of helplessness in his eyes. "That’s just how war is. When you lose, you lose everything. There’s no use thinking about it now."

A weak flame flickered as the prisoners sat together, quietly discussing their future, their faces etched with worry.

The anxious young captive turned to the veteran and asked in a low voice, "You’re experienced. What do you think they’ll do with us?"

The veteran frowned, thought for a moment, then spoke slowly. "He might decide based on our skills. If he thinks we’re useful, he might absorb us into his army."

"Become his soldiers? But we were their enemies. We’re prisoners now."

"Sometimes, there’s only a fine line between a prisoner and a soldier."

The veteran sighed and continued, "Of course, it’s also possible he’ll send us back to work the fields or do some other kind of labor. After all, they always need manpower."

Another prisoner chimed in, "I heard from a passing merchant that this Baron Henry treats his men well. If we could become his soldiers, it might not be a bad thing."

The atmosphere in the dungeon grew heavy as every prisoner contemplated his future. Whatever Henry decided, their lives were about to be turned upside down.

Night deepened. The prisoners lay on the cold ground, their minds racing. Their hearts were filled with a mix of hope and fear for the future.

The celebratory feast had ended. After eating and drinking their fill, the soldiers returned to their tents to rest. The fires gradually died down, leaving only a few wisps of blue smoke drifting in the night wind.

The soldiers’ laughter and conversation slowly subsided, replaced by a chorus of snores. The entire camp sank into a deep tranquility.

Only the occasional cry of pain from the wounded in the barracks served as a reminder that a battle had taken place here today.

The soldiers on the night watch took their posts on the ramparts. In the darkness, Henry’s family banner flapped loudly in the wind, a symbol that the castle had changed hands.

Henry’s cook, Orianna, and his handmaiden, Ailia, among others, had been busy and had already put the castle tower in perfect order.

Inside the tower, the carpets were soft and comfortable. Exquisite tapestries and oil paintings adorned the walls. Every detail exuded aristocratic taste and luxury.

Henry walked into the tower, his footsteps nearly silent on the carpet. He looked around and nodded in satisfaction.

’Now this is a proper castle,’ he thought, ’not just a military camp made of large stones.’

Ailia came forward and said with a smile, "My lord, everything is ready. You can rest peacefully here."

Henry nodded and walked into the tower’s bedroom.

In the bedroom, a huge bed occupied the center of the room. It was covered with a thick down duvet and soft sheets. The bedframe was carved with intricate patterns, making it both comfortable and extravagant.

Beside the bed, a small table held fresh fruit, a bottle of wine, and some books for Henry to read to pass the time if he couldn’t sleep.

’And if he didn’t feel like reading...’

Heavy curtains hung over the bedroom windows, blocking out the noise from outside. Henry took off his imperial robe, changed into a comfortable nightshirt, and lay down on the bed.

However, the nightshirt was also a bit small, forcing him to leave it open. His underwear was also uncomfortably tight. Henry found himself a little envious of those people with super-shorts that never wore out.

He closed his eyes, feeling the softness and warmth of the bed. ’This castle, this land... it all belongs to me now.’

If it had been a place like an earthen fort, Henry might not have stripped the previous owner of his title and fiefdom. But this place was a strategic chokepoint controlling the route from Westwood Laine to the Empire’s interior. Now that he had captured it, Henry had no intention of giving it up.

The next morning, as the first rays of sunlight streamed through the castle windows, Bain returned to Ximira Castle with his soldiers.

The sound of their marching shattered the morning tranquility as the soldiers strode in neat formation through the castle gate.

Bain’s face was etched with fatigue. In the column behind him, besides his soldiers, was a string of bound prisoners, as well as confiscated weapons and armor.

The prisoners’ eyes were filled with unease and fear, not knowing what fate awaited them.

Bain had used the Great Memory Recovery Technique that Henry had given him and had learned from the prisoners that these men were Scouts sent by Count John’s army. They belonged to the Private Armies of three Barons and two Knights under Count John’s command.

These Private Armies included Auxiliary Soldiers and serfs among their Recruited Soldiers, totaling over four thousand men. Their combat effectiveness was far greater than that of the Baron of Ximira Castle’s forces.

"Have Bain come see me."

Soon, Bain, dressed in his armor, walked into the study. "My lord, we intercepted..."

Henry quickly grasped the situation from Bain’s report. This was going to be a fierce defensive battle. They had just finished an assault, and now they had to prepare for a siege.

"Summon all officers. Meeting in the council hall, immediately."

The officers assembled swiftly. Henry stood at the head of the council hall, looked around at his men, and said lightheartedly, "As expected of a Baron from a great family. This council hall is huge."

"Hahaha, it’s your council hall now, My Lord."

"What good is a big council hall? Without elite Warriors, they still fell to us easily."

Everyone laughed. Henry raised a hand and said, "Bain has returned with important intelligence. Count John’s reinforcements are approaching. They are numerous and formidable. We must be fully prepared."

The officers exchanged glances, then nodded in understanding.

Henry continued, "We need to reinforce the castle’s defenses. At the same time, we must gather the villagers from the surrounding settlements and bring them inside. Bain, you will handle gathering the villagers."

Bain stood up, gave a military salute, and replied firmly, "Yes, my lord."

Other nobles weren’t as merciful as Henry; they would genuinely burn, kill, and plunder. Now that Ximira Castle was no longer part of Count John’s fiefdoms, the nobles sent to fight would not pass up the chance to increase their spoils.

Henry then turned to the other officers. "The rest of you will be responsible for strengthening the rampart fortifications and ensuring our food and water supplies are secure."