Chapter 62 Punic War
Chapter 62 Punic War
62 Punic War
Henry led the hundred soldiers back to the mansion, their footsteps leaving a visible trace on the shallow snow. He could clearly feel the stark contrast between the two groups walking behind him. Zahra's team wore bright smiles as they excitedly whispered to each other, their eyes shining with a happiness they had never experienced before. In fact, if someone were to ask, this could easily be considered as the best day of their lives. They had finally been able to change their future for the better.
On the other side, Grok and his team trudged along, their heads hung low as their faces showed a mixture of shame and regret. The memory of their defeat kept replaying in Grok's mind, making him grit his teeth in frustration. In his mind, Zahra's actions were the act of a coward and a dishonorable warrior, who had no audacity and no courage to move forwards, a mark of weakness and deceit.
The atmosphere hovering over the soldiers led to a slight smile to appear on Henry's lips. He created this competitive environment in order to propel the development of teamwork and new skills. He wanted the losing team to desire even further the opportunity to attain the classes in the Commanders Training Center. This desire would lead them to give their all in the mission ahead of them. In the end, the losing team would be able to correct their mistakes and improve overall, all in order to guarantee their future. The winning team would also be propelled to keep their positions, afraid of losing and being outshined by the other one.
With that thought in mind, Henry kept silently walking, until the walls and the towers of the mansion finally came into view. At that moment, even the most active soldiers closed their lips and looked ahead.
As the soldiers gazed upon the mansion before them, their attention was drawn to a long iron pole atop the building, gently swaying in the wind while sparkling under the moonlight, in such a way that not even the dark night could hide it from their eyes. The divided eyes of the group shone upon Grok, some of them filled with pity while others were filled by the desire for revenge. They thought that this kind of punishment was very light for such a barbarian, who made them lose such a great opportunity.
Gulp
While looking at the pole, Grok's throat tightened as he swallowed hard. The venomous stares directed at him didn't bother him as much as the weight of the bet he had made with Henry. Unconsciously, he took a step back, his body trembling under the gentle lick of the wind against his exposed skin, his heart beating faster, stimulated by fear.
The desire to plead for forgiveness welled up within him, but the barbarian blood coursing in his veins and his own ego prevented him from uttering a single word. I am a barbarian, Grok reminded himself. Squaring his shoulders, he straightened his back and remained firm on the ground, resolutely following in the footsteps of the king, who marched forwards without turning back. He would face the consequences as man. He would never run away. These were his thoughts, but if someone paid close attention, they could see his legs wanting to falter.
The group only came to a stop when they reached the Great Hall within the mansion.
Henry stood before the fireplace, his eyes sweeping across the organized group of soldiers standing in front of him. Amidst those faces, he could discern a wide range of emotions spelling from their posture and eyes. Some of them had a more relaxed posture with eyes filled by a beaming and happy expression, while others had their shoulders down, hiding the lingering sadness in their gazes.
Henry paused for a brief moment, before letting out a soft breath and addressing to them – "First of all" – he began, his voice powerfully resonating through the room – "I extend my sincerest congratulations to Zahra and her esteemed team, they have demonstrated remarkable synergy, executing their actions with a clear strategy, and managing to reign in their emotions. It was a great job, congratulations."
With a nod, Henry directed his gaze towards Zahra, whose eyes gleamed with a new light. Suddenly, she felt that receiving this praise from the king greatly surpassed the satisfaction and the accomplishment of winning the mock battle, securing a place in the prestigious Commanders Training Center. Trying to hide her excitement and the flushed cheeks, Zahra humbly bowed her head. It felt good being praised and noticed by such an admired person.
"As for the rest of you, there is no need for worry," declared Henry with a commanding presence befitting a king. His words carried a sense of assurance and authority. "I have made a decision to grant you all another chance to claim victory and ascend as respected leaders. This mission will be your next chance."
"As you may have noticed, I have allowed the forces of Luak to enter our kingdom." - Henry calmly stated, his voice carrying a sense of authority and confidence. - "However, they have unknowingly ventured into a lion's den. They will have to leave a few arms and legs as a payment. We are going to slowly dwindle their numbers, without them even knowing the culprit behind it."
With each word, Henry's eyes shone brightly, the image of the enemy's demise creating a sense of satisfaction within him. The desire for conquer coursed through his veins. At first, before meeting with the messengers, Henry had considered launching a frontal war against the two kingdoms. He possessed the Torch Tree's seeds, which could cause great damages to the enemy's line and ensure an easy victory. However, such a war would still require a large volume of resource, which were essential for the soldiers who were fighting on a desolate place and away from their homes. Furthermore, he would be risking the lives of countless soldiers and the manpower for reconstruction. The extreme cold environment and the lack of resources were obstacles that prevented constant large-scale conflicts on this part of the north.
In order to find a way out of this situation and to uncover the truth about the incidents surrounding the kingdom, Henry tried to recall every knowledge from Earth. He perused through his memories and found the perfect example that could be used as a guide to take him out of predicament, the Punic Wars, more specifically, the Second Punic War.
At that time, Hannibal, a Carthaginian General, devised several strategies to undermine the Roman forces. He employed local bandits and tribesmen to dress as bandits, utilizing their knowledge of the terrain and guerrilla warfare tactics. These disguised groups would launch surprise attacks on Roman supply lines, disrupt communication networks, and harass Roman troops. By adopting the appearance of bandits, these irregular forces were able to strike swiftly and fade away into the surrounding countryside, sowing confusion, and fear among the Roman ranks.
In the end, pretending to be bandits was a smart way to hide Henry's actions, as Luak believed the kingdom was overrun by bandits. It provided a way to conceal his true intentions and affiliations. This approach had several advantages. It allowed him to infiltrate enemy lines, gather information, and carry out covert operations without being detected. It was a perfect way to reduce their numbers without drawing immediate attention to his own troops. Furthermore, this tactic didn't require much logistic to mobilize a great part of his army as only a small group of soldiers would be deployed.
"We will be departing in two days, so get ready" – Henry informed – " On the second floor there are thirty rooms available, with enough beds for each of you. On top of those beds, you will find a set of clothes that you will be wearing throughout the entire operation. You can go"
With a wave of his hand, Henry signaled his men to depart and make preparations for the upcoming operations. As the soldiers dispersed, Grok stood quietly waiting to be called, ready to pay his dept, but Henry didn't seem to mind about him. The Great Hall was almost empty when Grok finally decided to turn away and head for the second floor. However, when he took the second step, a cold voice sounded in his ears, like the grim reaper reaching for his soul. At that moment, Grok seemed to feel his body freezing, as if the cold air from the north licked his skin.
"I hope you haven't forgotten our little wager, have you?"- Henry inquired, a mischievous twinkle glinting in his eyes. A sly grin played at the corners of his mouth. - "I did promise that the Cold Winter Winds would have some company. Leier, can you please lend me a hand in getting this plump fellow up there?"
Henry called and Leier's figure seemingly jumped out from his shadows, walking firmly towards Grok, who watched with a mixture of regret and fake courage as she approached. She gripped his shoulders tightly, while pulling him outside of the mansion, leaving him no choice but to comply with her silent orders.