Chapter 322: Two Sides

After six days of forced marching, Benjamin led the 30,000-strong Brambleford army into Cardiff.

At the same time, he received grave news: Clinton’s sixty-thousand-strong reaver cavalry was fast approaching Preston.

What was worse, a detachment of ten thousand riders had split from the main force and was circumventing Preston, heading directly toward Cardiff.

Within the military command tent, Benjamin unrolled the map Prince Simon had provided and began to analyze the situation. Surrounding him were generals Lancelot, Liam, Timothy and Ola, all intently studying the map.

"This is great." Lancelot grinned. "Five thousand riders would be troublesome, but ten thousand? We’ll show them what our flintlock troops can really do!"

Benjamin, however, frowned. "An isolated cavalry unit pushing this far south... Something’s not right. Lancelot, send the scout to keep a close eye on their movements."

Lancelot nodded firmly. The scout was a specially reorganized unit from Brambleford’s mounted troops. They wore no armor, and even their horses were stripped down to the bare essentials for speed and maneuverability.

These soldiers were tasked not only with rapid raids but also with intelligence gathering.

"Yes, sir!" Lancelot gave a sharp salute and departed.

Benjamin then turned to Timothy. "His Highness also ordered us to gather refugees while aiding Preston. Timothy, take five thousand armored cavalry into Preston. Guide the refugees into gathering."

Timothy nodded loudly. "Understood!"

Turning to the remaining officers, Benjamin commanded. "Organize your flintlock units, war wagon crews, archers, and sword-and-shield infantry. Stay alert and ready for battle at all times. We cannot allow this cavalry to breach our borders."

"Yes, sir!" The generals bellowed in unison.

---

With the plan settled, Benjamin exited the tent. Outside, the Governor of Cardiff City, Miles Morales, stood waiting.

"Governor Miles," Benjamin said with a polite bow. "I apologize for the inconvenience of stationing our army here."

Miles waved a hand. "No need to apologize, Sir Benjamin. We’ve been hoping for your arrival. Rumors have been spreading in the city. People say the King plans to attack Cardiff for food. The public is anxious. With your army here, we can finally breathe easy."

Benjamin scoffed. "That King dares target Cardiff? Doesn’t he know this is Prince Simon’s domain?"

Miles shook his head. "Preston is out of food. He’s got thousands of mouths to feed and no way to sustain them. I’m afraid he’s desperate."

Benjamin sighed. "Just as His Highness predicted, internal unrest and foreign invasion. A true crisis on both fronts."

---

Inside Preston City.

Prince Augustus was pacing frantically.

His trusted guard, Tevez, entered the hall.

"Have the Imperial Guards arrived yet? What about Prince Gerad’s forces? What about Prince Simon’s troops?!" Prince Augustus’s eyes were bloodshot.

He was in a full-blown panic.

The civil unrest in his domain still wasn’t under control, and now reaver forces had surrounded the city. Clinton’s cavalry was ravaging the countryside, and Preston was encircled.

Every regional army that attempted to aid them had been slaughtered by the reaver riders. In open terrain, they were no match.

"Your Highness." Said Tevez carefully. "There’s still no sign of any reinforcements. The reaver cavalry remains outside the city. Our troops are all on the walls, ready to defend."

Prince Augustus’s temper exploded. He swept the entire tea set off the table. "Those damn cowards! I’m about to DIE, and they still haven’t come to save me! Worthless! All of them!"

Tevez stood silent. He knew not to provoke the prince’s infamous wrath.

Once a formidable warrior in his youth, Prince Augustus had now grown bloated and idle after decades of luxury.

His military might had withered, but his temper and arrogance remained as dangerous as ever.

Last year’s drought in Preston had started in July and had persisted into the present. Things might not have gotten this bad, had Prince Augustus not ignored the crisis entirely.

When the King rebelled, Prince Augustus had failed to act. By the time he tried to suppress the uprising, the rebel had already established a massive following.

And to make things worse, he had embezzled much of the relief grain sent from the capital and other territories.

Even the 100,000 bags of grain sent by Brambleford had been largely sold off to profiteers.

Had that grain been used for disaster relief, perhaps the uprising wouldn’t have spread so far.

When Prince Simon sent a letter urging him to act, Prince Augustus glanced at it and threw it into the fire.

"Brat!" Was all he said.

Tevez sighed inwardly, a bitter sadness in his heart.

With internal rebellion and now foreign invasion, Preston seemed doomed. Even Prince Augustus, blind as he was, now sensed the crisis, but it was too late. Their fate was no longer in their own hands.

"Your Highness." Tevez suddenly remembered something. "The reaver cavalry outside the city seems to be missing a ten-thousand-man detachment. They’ve broken off and are heading toward Cardiff."

"Cardiff? That’s perfect!" Prince Augustus’s eyes lit up. "That means they’re not here for me; they must be targeting Prince Simon instead!"

He laughed manically and seized Tevez’s shoulders. ’Quick! Go to the city walls. Tell their commander this: Brambleford had a massive harvest last year. Grain is plentiful. If they agree to raid Cardiff instead, we’ll even provide supplies to help!"

"Your Highness... That would be collusion with the enemy!" Tevez said, stunned.

"Collusion?" Prince Augustus’s expression turned cold. "Better Simon dies than I do. I haven’t enjoyed enough of life yet. Besides, the empire is fragmented. Sooner or later, all vassals will declare themselves kings. When that day comes, Simon will be my rival."

Tevez was speechless.

Facing Prince Augustus’s fierce gaze, he could only sigh and make his way to the city walls.

---

Meanwhile, a hundred kilometers from Cardiff, the scout had located the reaver detachment heading their way.

On an open plain, the reaver riders were already engaged in battle with a group of rebels wielding farm tools and scavenged weapons.

Although the rebels had the advantage in numbers, the reaver cavalry was ferocious. They had formed a circular formation and were launching wave after wave of arrows into the crowd trapped in the center.

The rebel soldiers didn’t even have a chance to reach the cavalry before being cut down by arrow fire.

The scouts squinted and spotted the rebel banner; it read ’The King.’

So, this was one of the rebel bands, and they had unfortunately run straight into the reavers.

The Brambleford scouts didn’t engage. They kept their distance and observed.

After about half an hour of intense fighting, the rebels broke ranks and fled. The reavers pursued briefly, hacking down stragglers, then regrouped.

They didn’t seem interested in further conflict with the rebels.

Instead, they resumed their march toward Cardiff.

The scout quickly turned back and galloped toward the city to report.

They had also spotted grain sacks tied to the reaver horses, clear proof that this wasn’t a random raid.

The reavers were heading toward Cardiff, with a plan.