Warrior's Serenade

Chapter 1297

When Louis and Timothy arrived at Redstone Manor with Ivor Ziegler and Alec Walker, they saw the household

guards of the manor loading crates into the waiting carriages.

Recognizing Carl, Louis called out, "Leaving tomorrow?"

Carl greeted them with a smile. "Yes, General Quinton. We leave first thing in the morning. Marshal Prince will

escort them for part of the way, so we're getting everything packed tonight."

"Marshal Prince will escort them for part of the way?" Louis frowned.

How could the marshal leave camp at such a time?

Carl shrugged nonchalantly. "It's just a short journey-only a couple of hours."

Then, with a sly smile, he added, "Marshal Prince said that women need to be pampered. She's traveling

far with such a young child. He said it's only fitting to see her off personally to show his regard."

Louis understood Oliver's fondness for this woman, so it wasn't surprising that he would send her off. Louis didn't

say anything further.

A lavish feast had been prepared in Redstone Manor, and Oliver himself cout to greet them. After

exchanging formal greetings, Oliver invited them to take their seats.

They glanced at the laden table that held a wide assortment of fine dishes, their fragrances so rich they could

almost hear their appetites stir.

Everyone knew Oliver was particular about food, but they hadn't expected such extravagance. The spread was

enough to feed 15 or more people, yet there were only five seated at the table.

Everyone couldn't help but feel nostalgic. Whether they followed Hector or Rafael, there was always food during

meetings. But most of the time, it was just a bowl of potato stew, and it was rare to have even one or two meat

dishes.

Of course, there was no comparison to be made. Wartfare and peacetindulgence were worlds apart.

"This is too much. We can't possibly eat all of this," Timothy said with concern.

"Indeed, it's more sumptuous than a festival feast," Alec added.

Oliver laughed heartily, waving off their concerns. "Sounds like I'm treating you all poorly. It's a little lavish, yes,

but most of it is just snacks to go with the wine. You'll see, once we start, you'll wish there were more."

"We're here to discuss matters of war, not drink," Louis interjected.

"Cnow, just a little drink," Oliver insisted, a wide grin on his face. "Let's speak freely tonight. | know sof

you have concerns. With the great battle looming, if there's anything troubling you about me, feel free to speak

up. If I have done something wrong, | will correct it. If there's nothing wrong, I'll commend you. We all need to be

united, no divisions among us."

The men exchanged glances before taking their seats.

Were there concerns? Of course, but they had tried voicing them before Oliver had never listened. It was likely

that now the battle was nearing, Oliver was unsure and was trying to smooth things over with them.

However, at the subtle urging of the two military advisors, Louis and Timothy refrained from pointing out Oliver's

flaws.

Military generals were straightforward, and they said what was on their minds. However, military advisors knew

how to approach matters with finesse. Everyone had known from the moment Oliver had arrived at Southern

Frontier that he could not take criticism well.

Asking for input now was more about maintaining appearances. If they were to actually voice their true

concerns, it would only lead to unpleasantness. Tonight, their main focus was preparing for the battle and

crafting strategies.

Even if Oliver's words were harsh at times, they had to swallow their frustrations for the greater good. "To the

war effort!" Oliver ordered, signaling for more wine to be poured.

Wine-what man could resist it? Especially those stationed far from home. Wine had beca comfort, a way to

stave off the loneliness that cwith being away from family.

In the past, they had made do with rough, unrefined liquor. But tonight, there was something better to drink.

Though they told themselves to drink sparingly, the rich, smooth taste encouraged them to indulge a bit more

than they should.

Luckily, they had a good tolerance for alcohol. So, drinking a couple more cups wasn't a problem, and their mind

stayed clear.

With the mood lifted by the wine, Louis finally spoke. "According to the scouts, Sandoria's army is moving at a

steady pace. In three or five days, they'll be here. When they arrive, we expect them to launch a direct assault

on the city, so our first priority is to plan the defense."

Oliver listened closely, nodding in agreement. The only point of contention arose when Louis mentioned that

Sandoria's matchlocks wouldn't have much of an impact. Oliver was momentarily taken aback. "Matchlocks

won't have much of an impact? That doesn't sound right."

"What | meant was that when it comes to attacking a city, the matchlock's advantages are limited," Louis

explained.

Timothy chimed in, "Matchlocks need to be reloaded after each shot, and the shooter has to aim again. In a

siege, Sandoria's forces are unlikely to use them."

"So you're planning to use archery to counter the matchlocks?" Oliver asked.

"Archery is essential," Timothy replied.

Oliver nodded. Inwardly, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief that he was planning to escape. If he had to

fight, he might very well lose his life here in Southern Frontier.

How had they won any battles in the past like this?