The Gray Stone Fortress is extrely far from the Imperial Capital, and it takes the Gale Bird a full seventeen days to reach the Imperial Capital.
That is to say, at the mont this letter reaches the Imperial Capital, the army under Louis has been marching in the depths of the Gray Stone Province for at least seventeen days.
Remont’s brow slowly furrowed, as if being pierced inch by inch by an ice spike. His lips trembled gently, and the sound that spilled from his mouth was so low it was nearly inaudible:
"Seventeen days... He’s been gone for seventeen days..."
He subconsciously began tactical deductions, which was both a long-standing instinct from his military service and his way of trying to anchor his fear.
Self-comfort erged first in his mind, his main force was in the Imperial Capital, but even so, the territory of the Gray Stone Province is vast, with layered defenses, and the Knights he had left behind relying on the checkpoints might not necessarily lose.
Moreover, though the fortress’s fall was serious, it did not indicate the entire province would be swallowed whole.
No.
Remont slowly closed his eyes, veins bulging on his forehead: "No. Why does he dare to strike at this ti?"
Remont’s eyes gradually widened, as if finally seeing the true outline of the nightmare.
Twenty days ago, to support the Fourth Prince’s coup, he secretly withdrew all main force regints from the Gray Stone Province.
This operation was nearly paranoid in secrecy; the Overseer’s Court didn’t know, the Imperial Capital was unaware, even his confidants only grasped fragnts.
Only a select few Death Warriors, whom he personally chose, and his eldest son knew the full picture.
And Louis, from the distant Northern Territory, a lord nominally still self-preserving in the Northern Territory...
Unexpectedly launched a full attack precisely on the day the Gray Stone was most void.
Remont’s Adam’s apple bobbed, cold sweat trickling down his neck, soaking through his inner clothes.
Could there be a mole? No, impossible?
Those who knew about the plan were all around him, except for his heir... So why did he act at this ti?
That thought made his scalp tingle, as if sothing icy gripped his throat.
Louis didn’t seem to be gambling, more like he was playing his card while watching Remont’s hand.
Then, like a wolf finally baring its fangs, he ruthlessly bit into Remont’s softest, most fatal spot.
Perhaps... it’s not just Louis baring fangs against him.
Southeast Province, Fifth Prince Lampard’s rebel army, the Calvin Clan, that newly anointed regi supported by the Church Court.
If the Fifth Prince and Louis were connected, linking the forces of the North with the Southeast, these two lands could rge into a giant force rivaling the Second Prince’s territory.
They might simultaneously, from different directions, devour his foundation and connect his lands into paths beneficial to them.
Once the Gray Stone Province falls to Louis, the Southeast rebels will easily push northward.
Between them, only a valley divides, and in the future, they could exchange grain routes, share forces, even combine Remont’s family’s hundreds of years of resources.
anwhile, Remont himself would be thoroughly drained, turning from hunter into prey divided by two wolves.
And at this mont, another significant figure in the Imperial Hall, Kaelin, stood in the shadows, his lips tweaked lightly.
He looked at Remont, gazing at the man who once controlled him like a puppet master, suppressed him, used him, pulled him forward.
Now seized tightly by another unseen hand around the throat.
In this mont, Kaelin felt a long-lost sense of balance.
He knew he would suffer from this, and he understood the collapse of Gray Stone ant new chaos in the Empire’s war situation.
But it didn’t stop this nearly imperceptible yet truly intense thought from arising deep within:
Maybe... this was a chance to shake off Remont.
He even felt a strange gratitude towards the Wolf King of the Northern Territory.
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