Huh? Enlightennt!
At first, Bruce couldn't understand how this could be an opportunity. But after hearing the Earl's explanation, he suddenly felt as clear-headed as if a long bout of constipation had finally ended.
Two words: exhilarating!
To think that simple manipulation of public opinion could achieve so much! Compared to Father, I'm still too young; I hadn't considered these tactics.
"But the Barbarian Tribes might not listen to us."
After calming down slightly, Bruce voiced his doubt. To successfully stage this, they needed the Barbarian Tribes' cooperation; otherwise, a simple investigation would reveal the deception.
"Why do the Barbarian Tribes raid? It's because heavy winter snows seal the mountains. To survive, they must stockpile more supplies. They also use war to weed out the old, weak, sick, and disabled, leaving the chance of survival for the stronger, younger individuals.
We don't even need to seek them out. Once the news spreads, all we have to do is withdraw so outposts. We'll make our withdrawal conspicuous, allowing them to descend the mountains for plunder. After that, do you think they'll be able to resist?
Even if they could, we simply need to block rchant convoys and impose a salt embargo. Without salt, they'll be forced to co down the mountains anyway."
"But these areas have long been Bastia territory. If we let the Barbarian Tribes in..." Bruce frowned. He frequently patrolled the borders and knew these places intimately; the people living there were all residents of Bastia.
He knew all too well what allowing the Barbarian Tribes to descend from the mountains would an. He had personally visited the villages devastated by the Warwolf. The scenes there had shocked him even more than any battlefield.
Because soldiers dying on the battlefield was one thing, but the massacre of unard civilians was entirely different.
"Is this the first day I'm teaching you? War is this cruel! They're just peasants; there will be more next year. Compared to the larger situation, they're insignificant. What are you hesitating for?" the Earl chided, sensing Bruce's reluctance.
Benevolence is the greatest taboo for a ruler; it doesn't make for a good Lord.
The Earl had reached his current position through sheer cunning. The capture of the Order of Knights had clearly plunged them into a difficult situation, completely disrupting their previous plans.
Yet, he could still leverage public opinion and the current circumstances to orchestrate such a grand play.
To him, the peasants who would be raided due to the shrinking defensive line were rely a small price to pay.
They couldn't even be considered a price. In his eyes, peasants were like weeds—cut them down, and more would sprout next year.
Does anyone care about weeds?
This was the nobility's perception of commoners, a view unchanged for millennia.
Although Bruce hesitated, he couldn't question his father's decision and could only nod in acquiescence.
"Co here." The Earl stood up again, walked over to the Map, and gestured to Bruce at his side.
"We'll use this area to lure them out. We will open the road towards Hamlet and withdraw the outpost soldiers in this direction to protect Bastia. If they invade, we fight back."
"Fight for real?"
There were nuances to fighting; Bruce wasn't sure which kind his father intended.
"Of course, we fight for real. We're yielding this road because we want them to raid Hamlet, not to let the Barbarian Tribes plunder within Bastia's territory.
If they can plunder closer, in Bastia, why would they bother going all the way to Hamlet? That's why we must fight, and fight hard enough to drive them towards Hamlet.
When they return from their raids, we'll ambush them. This way, we can seize their spoils and rescue the civilians they've taken up the mountain. Doing so will bolster our reputation. Moreover, it will create the appearance of us being at war with the Barbarian Tribes, thereby misleading other powers.
However, we must be careful here. We'll engage so and let others pass. They must get a taste of success—enough to prevent them from giving up, but not so much that they gain significant benefits. The goal is to deplete their population as much as possible. There haven't been any major wars in years, so no one knows exactly how many people from the Barbarian Tribes are in those mountains."
Bruce remained silent. He knew war was coming. Many from the Barbarian Tribes would die, and likewise, many from Bastia would perish.
Knights, the high-tier soldiers capable of confronting the Barbarian Tribes, were few. The bulk of the army consisted of ordinary soldiers.
"Go ahead and do it. If this battle succeeds, the Bastia Family will replace the Hamlet Family as the true rulers of the Empire's Northern Borderlands. Then, we can control the Northern Borderlands, observe the internal strife from afar, and perhaps even set our sights on the Emperor's throne."
Even Bruce was taken aback by his father's undisguised ambition. Yet, if they truly succeeded, it wasn't an entirely impossible scenario.
He had initially been concerned about the cost of war. But now, contemplating this prospect, his anxiety was gradually replaced by a surging passion. The commoners who would pay the price for their ambition were utterly forgotten.
Power truly is the best aphrodisiac for n...
At that mont, the Butler stepped forward to report on Laura's condition.
"It's an arrow wound, yes. Judging by the tear in the leather armor, the size precisely matches the Feather Arrows used by the Eagle Flock. The wound..."
Hearing about the wound, even the Earl had to admit Laura had done exceptionally well to gather intelligence and make it back in her state. He waved his hand dismissively. "She could be useful. Tell the Eagle Flock not to harm her. Let her recover properly."
"Yes, My Lord." The Butler withdrew, leaving the Earl and Bruce to continue their discussion of the impending war.
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