“That, gentlemen, is Phoenix’s Fall!” General Kaffe said triumphantly, as the army neared a mountain pass. The walls were steep, fires from torches burned in the distance – No doubt from the men on watch.

To Lawrence, it reminded him greatly of the so-called “unassailable” fortresses depicted in epic novellas such as Romance of the Three Kingdoms, such as Hulao Gate.

If those TV serials were anything to go by, Lawrence was Hulao Gate’s Lu Bu.

The army continued their slow and steady march towards Phoenix’s Fall, the night sky hovering over their heads. The first through the pass was General Kaffe and his army of brave fighters that held out against the continued Gerheist onslaught. Then, it was the supply convoy led by Kraft and then the Owl Army with the rest of the leadership such as Lawrence, Longines and others.

With a mighty groan, the gates made of solid steel barred itself shut.

Lawrence looked around to see the Carmine Kingdom’s flag flying high, along with only maybe a handful others. One of which is Lord Black’s.

“Lord Black! I heard about what you have done! Good work!”

Turning to the source of the voice was  a man dressed in almost entirely in dark brown, his coat tattered and torn, his own armour with the sigil of a maple. Dressed in chainmail, there was a mace affixed to his waistband. Flanked by two men in plate armour with the sigil of a maple as well, he had the smile of a child who was offered a fistful of candy.

Yet, to this man, Count Boulevard, seeing General Kaffe, his men and even more reinforcements were much better than any ale or booze you could drag out.

“Is this man, Lawrence Carstein? The man you told me so much about?” Count Boulevard turned to Lawrence, who was dressed in a plate armour of a curious colour and on his back is strapped a tower shield.

He stood out almost immediately. Lord Black gave Lawrence a push forward and Lawrence lowered his head a little.

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“These are your soldiers? You shouldn’t be under Lord Black, serve under me directly, I’ll make you a lord!” Count Boulevard roared with laughter and General Kaffe shook his head seriously.

“With his men, I wager he can replace you, Count Boulevard!” the General swaggered forward, coming almost eye to eye with Count Boulevard. The Count smirked, “Well, the last I heard, it was your sorry ass that needed rescuing, General… Maybe he should take over you instead!”

Lawrence flinched, taking a step back. What are two senior—

Suddenly, the two men roared in laughter and embraced each other.

“It is good to see you alive, Kaffe,” Count Boulevard sighed and General Kaffe nodded.

“Colonel Haussen is waiting, General Kaffe. I imagine he would want to hear your reports.”

Before General Kaffe and Count Boulevard moved, however, there was a blast. That of a trumpet. The tune sounded somewhat pompous.

“The Imperial anthem. Must be a messenger…” Trey frowned and everyone focused their attention to nearing sound of hooves and the gates slowly creaked open, allowing for the men on horseback to enter.

At the lead was a man that was dressed in heavy plate armour and as he leapt off his horse, it was almost as if the horse felt liberated of a load.

Suddenly, an observation bubble was in Lawrence’s view.

Passive Perception: User is not proficient in heavy armour

Lawrence almost snorted. The man moved, sorry, he sauntered forward, with his longsword dangling limply by the side. As Lawrence looked around, the regular soldiers in Count Boulevard’s camp looked at the man almost in contempt.

“I am the Imperial messenger, Captain Tosh! I am hereby here to requisition supplies from the expeditionary force that was capable of eliminating the Gerheist forces! This is an order by Colonel Vava, carry it out!”

The captain read out his order from a scroll and kept it, almost with practiced flair.

No one moved even after hearing his order.

“Did you not hear me!? This is an Imperial order! Carry it out at once!” the Captain yelled at one of Lawrence’s Owl Guards who turned to look at Longines who shook his head. Longines then turned to look at Kraft who stepped forward.

“Ah, great messenger, I would have given it to you at once, if not for the fact that tragedy has struck…”

Kraft bowed to the Captain who looked mildly appeased after seeing the bow.

“At last, someone here who knows manners! The Crown is not without mercy and consideration! Speak your mind!”

Who died and made you the owner of the crown? Lawrence thought to himself.

“Our grain has rotted, sire, please… Take a look!” Kraft said, walking over to one of the sacks of grains that he had wet days before and cutting it open. Pouring out of it was grain that was mouldy.