It was amazing how a single common denominator could cause two parties, previously unfamiliar with either, to grow closer and form bonds with each other. It seemed that the saying 'man is a social creature' was indeed true after all.
In this particular scenario, the common denominator between Alexandros' party and Captain Rorum's party was the single month that they had spent in the company of the young scholar, Wuzhi. With this fact alone, the two sides quickly dropped their suspicions towards each other and began working together in earnest.
That being said, a few questions that required answers were in order. The first question was; what was Captain Rorum Mandos, a steamboat owner who ran a ferrying business, doing here in the depths of the Southern Forest?
The answer to his question was heart-warmingly simple. He was here because Wuzhi had asked him to come here.
As it turned out, around three weeks ago, Captain Rorum seemed to have received a letter from the young scholar. Plastered upon the first page were two simple questions.
'Does your heart still remember the beauty of the Silver River?'
'Does your heart still ache for the sovereignty of your motherland?'
Captain Rorum, confronted by those two questions, fell into a daze. Later, his eyes started tearing up as memories of a far-gone childhood oozed out of his soul and filled his mind. The answers to the two questions instantly became evident.
Yes. He still remembered the unblemished, inviolable beauty of the Syphyll River. He would remember it until the day he passed away from this world.
Yes. His heart still thumped with furious anger when he came across scenes of his ravaged motherland. An endless thirst for retribution consumed him and threatened to swallow his mind whenever he came across a foreign devil, leading the charge in the war for his motherland.
His resolve stoked; the letter instructed.
'If your answers to both those questions are true, then gather a force of like-minded people and head to the river's tributary nestled inside the Southern Forest in three weeks. There, you will come across the Saviour of your motherland.'
Captain Rorum wasted not a single moment. He immediately moved and discreetly gathered a group of steamboat owners who shared a similar sentiment. He piously lobbied for his cause and convinced those loyalists to assist him in this cause.
From the sidelines, this entire sequence of events felt rather ridiculous. One might even question why the sudden letter would move Captain Rorum's heart. Why he would stake his everything over a few lines of verse written by a peculiar ex-customer of his?
Well, as ridiculous as this sequence of events was, it was also entirely logical. For Captain Rorum was a patriot. A fierce patriot who had been forced to helplessly stand aside and watch as a bunch of foreigners ravaged and split his motherland.
For such patriots, filled with judicious cause and vengeful wrath, even the smallest of ember was enough to set them off!
The outside world did not refer to the natives of the empire as 'mindless, savage terrorists' without any reason. They were called as such because no one knew when one of these people would be suddenly set off, causing irreversible, unmitigable damage. Every single one of these loyalists was a madman at heart.
Wuzhi's letter simply ignited this inner madness.
"Never in my wildest fantasies did I imagine that I would come across your venerable self, Your Mightiness!" Captain Rorum spoke aloud his thoughts as he kneeled before the boy emperor. Behind him, kneeling in a similar fashion, was the collection of like-minded steamboat captains and sailors.
Captain Rorum's recounting left Alexandros in a daze. Once again, at a critical juncture that left him feeling helpless and suffocated, his saviour stepped forward to protect and serve him.
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Originally, Alexandros' decision to return to the capital city and save it from the Auberville Duke's siege would have cost him many, many precious lives. The returns that he would receive from such a costly sacrifice would be severe enough to permanently cripple the empire and leave it at a point where reclamation and salvation were both no longer possible.
This was the truth known to Alexandros, General Arlo, and every single officer who had learnt about the capital city's plight. And though they knew about it, their hearts and souls vehemently denied this truth and refused to face reality.
For how could they? To confront such a matter was akin to forcing a six-year-old child to choose between their mother or father!
As such, the boy emperor, and others, spent their time after learning the truth in conscious ignorance. They simply threw the matter aside and put off their confrontation with harsh reality until later. And when that later finally arrived, it was unknown how many of them would manage to keep their hearts firm.
Wuzhi's scheme of igniting Captain Rorum's patriot self and bringing him to this place was his method to present the boy emperor with another path; one that yet gave the empire a chance at victory!
"Wuzhi…" Alexandros silently muttered.
It was uncertain just how many people would realise the impact brought by the scholar's letters and the far-reaching consequences it would have, at this moment. Perhaps, future historians would look back at this moment and recognize it as the most crucial moment in the war. A moment that allowed the empire to change its fortunes.
What was definitely certain was Alexandros' feelings at this moment.
'Teacher… I promise you this; for as long as I live and breathe upon this earth, I vow to remain your eternal ally. No matter what you require it to be, require me to do, this empire and I shall accomplish your words without fail! I swear this upon my soul!'
A small crackle resounded within the sky as the heavens recognised the boy emperor's vow. With this, another piece of Wuzhi's 'Grand Strategy' fell into place.
"Captain Rorum," Alexandros mightily began. "How many men can your steamboats carry?"
"These steamboats are built to carry a hundred fifty people, your mightiness. However, knowing from experience, carrying three hundred people would prove to be simple!"
"Three hundred men over twelve boats. That would be three thousand six hundred men in total." Alexandros quickly calculated. A peculiar light flashed across his pupils as he continued. "Or three thousand men if we account for the arms that they will be carrying."
The boy emperor asked himself. 'Will this be enough? Will he be able to save the capital city with only three thousand men?'
"We will, your royal eminence," said General Arlo. Wearing a solemn expression, he repeated. "We will!"
That was all the confirmation that Alexandros required. Raising his fists, he announced, "General Arlo! Gather three thousand of your best men and load every single unit of the seized artillery cannons onto the steamboats! Let us how the Auberville Duke the price of going after our home!"
Offering a firm salute in reply, General Arlo immediately went away to carry out his duties.
"Captain Rorum. We ask you to cooperate with the general in his preparations. The capital is in danger and we have not a single instant to waste!"
"Aye, aye, your mightiness! This old sailor will offer my everything in your service!" The bearded, pot-bellied captain replied and went away.
Left alone in the company of his personal guard, Alexandros lowered his head and quietly muttered. "Thank you, Wuzhi. I shall not disappoint you."
The three-week weeks trip to the capital city had thus shrunk to three days! Though, would it prove to be enough remained yet to be seen.
---
At the same time.
Outside the gates of the Caroxtel City.
"FIRE!!" screamed the cannoneer, as he lunged to the side and buried his head into his arms.
BOOOOMM! The ear-shattering sound of artillery cannons firing resounded through the air as another volley of explosive shells headed towards the scorched, battered walls of the Imperial Capital City. In the time it took a person to blink their eyes, the volley of explosive shells reached the hollowed gates and explosively struck them.
BAAAAMM!! BOOOOM!! BAAAAANNNGGG!! A cacophony of destruction echoed and another series of destructive marks were left on the gates. Seconds later, a cracking sound pierced through the silent air and drew the attention of every single soul in its vicinity.
And there it was. A single line of fracture within the towering gates of Caroxtel City; its first fissure since inception!
Upon spotting the crack, the forces of the Duke of Auberville let out raucous cheers. Finally, after a week of constant bombardment, the gates had finally revealed a crack! Just as they moved to reload and re-fire the artillery cannons once more, they were stopped by an order.
"Stop. No more firing for today," spoke a brusque voice. The speaker, a large man neatly dressed in trimmed military clothes, stirred the tea in his hands while leisurely gazing at the newly formed crack.
Tapping the edge of his teacup with the spoon, the man put down the cutlery and raised his cup for a sip. "Marvellous," he uttered, tasting the freshly brewed beverage.
Turning to face his intently listening aide, the Duke of Auberville declared.
"We shall begin our assault at dawn tomorrow. Let our opponents spend their final night making peace."