"Master, I believe the arms-for-livestock trade deal you struck with the Fisablen Family is extremely unwise. From a strategic perspective, this is nothing short of aiding the enemy..." After two days of holding it in, Schwartz could finally restrain himself no longer, and seized the opportunity during afternoon tea to voice his opinion to
Lorist calmly picked up a honey biscuit, popped it into his mouth, and after finishing it, raised his teacup to rinse his lips. He regarded Schwartz with a faint, ambiguous smile.
Schwartz's face flushed red. After waiting quite a while without hearing a response from Lorist, he grew a little anxious: "Master, tell me why you agreed to make this deal with the Fisablen Family. Everyone says you were so thoroughly bewitched by Princess Sylviavia that you lost your mind and made this decision..."
Lorist quickly turned to look. Thankfully, Miss Tessie was still on the lawn keeping Little Treasure company in the sun, and her handmaiden Little Vinnie — though she had grown into a proper young lady, had lost none of her childlike playfulness — was tickling Little Treasure's tiny toes, and neither had heard a word of what Schwartz had just said.
"Come here, you brat." Lorist's expression darkened, and he reached out to ruffle Schwartz's hair into a bird's nest as the young man drew near. "Growing capable, aren't you? Using strategic thinking now — how very impressive..."
"Alright, sit down. It's time you had a lesson."
"Schwartz, answer me first — what is your impression of the Fisablen Grand Duke and the Border Defense Corps?" Lorist asked.
Schwartz thought for a moment and replied, "Master. Although the Fisablen Grand Duke and his Border Defense Corps haven't openly clashed with our Family, he nonetheless remains a potential adversary. If we ever move against the Kingdom of Iberia in the future, they will become our enemies. It's not just me — many people think the same way."
"The Kingdom of Iberia? Heh. Schwartz, broaden your horizons. Don't keep them fixed on what's right in front of you. In my eyes, the Fisablen Grand Duke and his Border Defense Corps don't even warrant my attention. They are not worthy of being our Family's opponents." In that moment, Lorist was being supremely arrogant.
"Master. Why do you think that way? The Border Defense Corps under the Fisablen Grand Duke has seventy-eight thousand elite soldiers. That's nearly equal to the total armed forces of our
"Heh heh..." Lorist laughed. "Schwartz, tell me — why do you think the Fisablen Grand Duke gave up his position as Regent of the Kingdom of Iberia and ran back to his old stronghold in the Eastern Frontier Province?"
"That's because... because, Master, you set up a trap for him in the royal capital. The situation in the Kingdom of Iberia is in complete chaos now, and the Fisablen Grand Duke has no power to turn things around. He had no choice but to give up..." Schwartz answered after some thought.
Lorist shook his head. "You're wrong, Schwartz. In the face of true power, no amount of schemes and conspiracies amount to anything more than petty tricks. In truth, if the Fisablen Grand Duke had the nerve, he could have purged the entire kingdom's noble class, rallying them to his own cause. He had the strength to do it. As long as he restored order to the kingdom and got production back on track, within five years the Kingdom of Iberia could have been reborn. Instead, it's in total disarray now, with the fall of the kingdom imminent."
"But the Fisablen Grand Duke gave up, because that road leads to no return. Either he succeeds, or the entire Fisablen Family goes down with him. So, he was afraid. He'd rather abandon the kingdom than watch his family be destroyed. As long as he holds the Border Defense Corps in his hands, whoever comes to power will have to give the Fisablen Family face. Even after he's gone, the Fisablen Family can still survive through their symbiotic relationship with the Border Defense Corps."
"Just from this, you can see that the Fisablen Grand Duke has long since lost his ambition. It was through his support that the Kingdom of Iberia was established in the first place, but the current kingdom is merely clinging to life. The Fisablen Grand Duke knows this perfectly well. His departure means he has already abandoned any effort to save the Kingdom of Iberia."
"Now let's look at the Border Defense Corps. It was originally established to resist the barbarian horsemen of the northeastern steppes. No one expected that after the Fisablen Grand Duke became its commander, the Corps would grow so powerful — not only suppressing the barbarian riders but also expanding the former empire's territory, adding an entire border province to it. So the Border Defense Corps's greatest enemy remains still the barbarian tribes of the northeastern steppes."
"Don't be fooled by the Corps's seventy-eight thousand elite soldiers. In reality, they need at least half their forces to guard against barbarian raids. The Fisablen Grand Duke used to be able to suppress all opposition within the Kingdom of Iberia with just three or four border cavalry regiments. But after our Family single-handedly wiped out the
"The order for a hundred thousand sets of standard equipment from our Family is actually an olive branch extended to us by Princess Sylivis on behalf of the Border Defense Corps and the Fisablen Family. It signals that the Fisablen Family has no intention of making an enemy of us. Of course, there's also an element of probing — they want to see whether our Family truly has the strength. By accepting this deal, we likewise signal that we don't regard the Fisablen Family as an enemy, and that our Family doesn't particularly care how much combat strength those hundred thousand sets of equipment will add to the Border Defense Corps."
"Against the Border Defense Corps head-on — do you think we would lose?"
"Impossible. With the strength of our Family's armed forces, the Border Defense Corps would have almost no chance against us. Whether in terms of soldier quality or equipment, we can steamroll the Border Defense Corps." Schwade was full of confidence in the Family's armed forces.
"Then, if the Border Defense Corps were equipped with the standard equipment they're purchasing, could they fight us to a draw or even defeat our Family's armed forces?" Norrist asked.
This time, Schwade thought for a long while before shaking his head. "They still wouldn't stand a chance. Our Family's logistics and supply capabilities are far superior to theirs. Even without employing any strategy, we could advance steadily and hold our ground. Even if they won a few battles through clever tactics, the final outcome would still be their defeat… But my Lord, they would cause significant casualties to our Family's armed forces in the process. That's what I meant when I said this deal amounts to arming the enemy…"
Norrist nodded. "Schwade, you've thought this through very well. I'm proud of you as your teacher. But there's one thing you must remember: once you step onto the battlefield, you have to view the soldiers under your command as numbers. As a commander, you must maintain a clear and calm judgment of the battlefield situation at all times. You cannot let sympathy or anger cloud your mind. How to defeat the enemy and what methods to use to minimize your own casualties — that's what a commander must consider. But once the battle begins, you cannot change your course of action just because the casualties are mounting. Because failing to win the war means the price you paid in blood was entirely wasted. You must be decisive in your choices — only victory can give meaning to sacrifice…"
"What you said earlier does have some merit. Those hundred thousand sets of standard equipment would indeed significantly boost the Border Defense Corps' combat power. But all of you who are worried have forgotten the most critical point — this is a transaction. You need to look at what the Fisablen Family and the Border Defense Corps are paying for those hundred thousand sets of standard equipment. For our Family, those hundred thousand sets represent only a year and a half's output from our weapons production base. But in return, we get nearly two million head of cattle and sheep.
Two million head of cattle and sheep — that's equivalent to two million-level magical beast tides. The Fisablen Family and the Border Defense Corps simply cannot afford that. The two great pastoral provinces of Eastern Wasteland and Muyue Grassland can produce at most five hundred thousand head of cattle and sheep per year, but they can't hand over all of it to us. They still need to sell those cattle and sheep to purchase grain, cloth, salt, and other essential supplies. I signed a five-year agreement with them — over those five years, they need to deliver four hundred thousand head of cattle and sheep to our Family each year. In return, we only need to provide them with standard equipment for two Border Defense mobile cavalry regiments per year — twenty thousand sets.
So the Fisablen Family and the Border Defense Corps set their sights on the Grassland Barbarian tribes of the Northeast Great Prairie, planning to raid them for cattle and sheep. But are those Grassland Barbarian tribes easy targets? Any tribe with more than ten thousand head of livestock has tens of thousands of members, and every last one of them is a fighter. Even if the Border Defense Corps soldiers are outfitted with the standard equipment from our deal, it doesn't mean they're invulnerable. They'll still suffer casualties and their equipment will wear out. I estimate that after five years, the Border Defense Corps will likely need another twenty to thirty thousand sets of standard equipment as replacements…
In a sense, signing this transaction agreement is tantamount to the Fisablen Family and the Border Defense Corps working for our Family for five years. And on top of that, they'll make mortal enemies of the Grassland Barbarian tribes on the Northeast Great Prairie. Even after five years, when they've received all the standard equipment and their combat power has surged, they'll still have to focus on guarding against retaliation from the Barbarian tribes. As for our Family — after five years of development, do you really think we'll be the same strength as we are now? By then, I doubt any of you would even consider the Border Defense Corps a threat."
"Five years?" Schwade scratched his head and laughed sheepishly. "Teacher, I really did forget about that. Time is the key factor…"
After thinking it over for a long while, Schwade's eyes lit up. "Teacher, in fact, once they sign this agreement, it means the Fisablen Family and the Border Defense Corps can only maintain friendly relations with us for the next five years — there's no way they'd make enemies of us again. They'll need to commit their most elite troops and best-equipped soldiers to raid the Great Prairie for cattle and sheep, and during those five years, they'll actually have to court our favor. First, to avoid fighting on two fronts, and second, because we hold the initiative in providing them with standard equipment…"
"That's right, that's exactly the principle. So those in the Family who only see what's right in front of them are worrying for nothing..." Lorrister smiled as he picked up his teacup.
"What did you say?" Lorrister was shocked. He shot to his feet with a start, knocking over the teacup and teapot on the table on the spot.
…
Lorrister set out overnight with his guard battalion and arrived at the naval camp in Oxhorn Bay by the following afternoon.
The Golden Knight Phareaa's face was flush with shame. "My Lord, it's my incompetence that failed your trust. I let the naval personnel suffer such devastating losses..."
Lorrister patted him on the shoulder. "That's not your fault. You've already poured a great deal of effort into establishing the naval camp, and you weren't aboard any of the three training ships when they set out. This was a sudden event beyond anyone's control. First, get something to eat for me and the guards. We haven't had a single hot meal since yesterday afternoon..."
The sailors on the training ships kept venturing farther and farther out. Three days ago, they discovered a small island roughly a hundred li from Oxhorn Bay, though the waters around it were teeming with whales at play.
This island didn't appear on any map, which meant it was too small to merit attention from the mappers who charted these seas. As such, its location had never been marked on the maps passed down over the generations. The sailors gave it the name Whale Island, after the whales that frolicked around its shores.
Phareaa had also sailed out on a training ship to see Whale Island two days earlier. At the time, he had turned down the sailors' requests to go ashore and explore, mainly because there were simply too many whales surrounding the little island and he feared the training ships could run into trouble if they sailed in too close. But no one could have predicted that yesterday, a group of sailors heading out for training couldn't resist their curiosity and decided to land on the island for a look. Three training ships, two hundred men per ship — six hundred sailors in total — set off in high spirits toward Whale Island.
In waters less than ten li from Whale Island, the two training ships sailing at the front were attacked by several whales. The largest whale was roughly the size of a training ship—it leaped, rammed, and its massive body capsized one ship outright and flipped another. The sailors aboard the training ship trailing behind were terrified; they hastily raised their sails and turned the rudder to steer well clear, which saved them from disaster. By the time they lowered small lifeboats to conduct a rescue from a safe distance, only twenty-three survivors were pulled from the water. Of the four hundred sailors aboard the two training ships at the front, three hundred and seventy-seven were missing, their fates unknown…
Phareaa's voice was very low and somber. Everyone present understood what it meant to go missing after an attack at sea—only a very fortunate few might still receive fate's favor and have a chance of rescue, but the vast majority had already departed this world.
"Whales aren't magical beasts—why would they actively attack our training ships?" Er, the commander of the guard battalion, asked.
"I don't know the reason either." Phareaa shook his head. "After the incident yesterday, I went to the shipyard and asked several old shipwrights, as well as a few veteran fishermen. According to them, it's very likely that the waters near Whale Island are a breeding ground where those whales nurture their young. So when our training ships trespassed into their territory, they attacked."
"Morale in the sailor battalion is extremely low because of yesterday's incident, my lord. I was wondering whether we should punish the captain and crew of the only training ship that returned yesterday—after all, it was their curiosity and recklessness that triggered this tragedy…"
"If you had officially ordered the sailors not to approach that little island, I wouldn't object to you punishing those who disobeyed," Lorist said.
Phareaa thought for a moment. "I didn't. I never issued an order forbidding them from going near Whale Island…"
"Then let it go. Discipline must be emphasized when sailors are aboard their ships, but maintaining a keen sense of curiosity and a strong spirit of exploration is hardly a bad thing. Although this tragedy struck right as the sailor battalion was newly established, it won't deter our family's resolve to venture onto the ocean. So what if they say Whale Island belongs to the whales? Even the open seas are a domain where the Norton Family's fleet sails unchallenged!
"Phareaa, settle the morale of the sailor battalion first. I'll have the shipyard immediately begin construction of whaling ships. Come next spring, when our family's whaling ships take to the sea, we'll turn that whale territory into a whale graveyard…" Lorist slammed his hand viciously onto the desk.
…(To be continued.)