"Ride out. They're trying to surround us again!" I rallied my morale. I had only been fighting with goblins, orcs, trolls, and other monsters. My grandfather was the one who had been in the real war with my dad when they cleaned up this region. However, his decisions, such as hiring reapers and that atrocious assassin organization, were questionable to me. However, I could see now that he made the right decisions. Having that map of the forest was a godsend to us at the beginning of the war.

However, another conundrum lay ahead. He asked me to lead cavalry to intercept enemies. We were wasting men. I partly supported John Sark, but Father adamantly refused it. We only had five thousand people here, and ten or twenty soldiers died every day doing this patrol. Moreover, we weren't even given a musket. Only swords and bows.

"This is ridiculous. Why do we have to use these ancient weapons?" The royal guards were getting upset. "We have muskets, right?"

"All of them were in use at the wall," my father replied. "Go, that's your order."

"Shit! We should at least have ten or twenty muskets, then. Do you want us to flee like dogs when the enemy charges us with muskets like yesterday?" I frowned at him. Cursing or talking against orders was punishable by five or ten lashes. Yet these so-called disciplined soldiers couldn't even keep their basic etiquette anymore.

"Why can't you deal with five enemies with muskets when you have over 50 men with bows? Their range only differs by a few meters," Count Shadowstep whispered. His answers weren't heard by the angry guards. "Go, this is an order."

"Enemy up ahead. Fifty goblins," my vanguard knight warned me about goblins. Goblins were seen up ahead in the distance a few moments later. They stopped sending humans? I readied my bow and ordered my men to stop. These stupid creatures would charge toward any human as soon as they saw them. I didn't need to waste time chasing them.

"Cavalry, ready your bows. Guard the path to the capital," I shouted, and as soon as the goblins were in range, we fired our volley. However, only a quarter of them were dead. I clicked my tongue at the royal guards behind me. They boasted they had training from dawn until dusk. Yet they were even worse with bows than my knights.

"Second volley, then engage them with your spears," I ordered. The second volley did better now that the goblins were closer. However, 15 goblins still lived.

"Ready your spears! Charge!!" I shouted. Today was the lucky day when we didn't have any casualties. However, I knew they would try again this evening.

"Son, I will give you 10 new muskets for the next patrol. Give them to your royal guard. They will only carry 5 bullets each. Remember, use the muskets only on humans. We have limited ammunition."

"Do we have to worry about ammunition so much, Dad? Supplies will come next week, right?"

"They might come, they might not come, or they might come and get intercepted. Don't put your hope in them," he replied. I nodded. As much as I loathed it, he might be right.

"Alright, Dad."

The patrol encountered yet another group of seventy goblins. However, the ten Royal guards wasted all of their ammunition even though I told them to use bows. They even proudly stated they alone killed the most goblins. While their words might be valid due to the accuracy and ease of reloading the new guns, I still scolded them for wasting bullets.

My father didn't let it slide, though. He ordered fifteen lashes for each of them, and that's when the heat and frustration started to explode. They bragged about their achievements of shooting small goblins over two hundred meters, and even though it was supported by fellow royal guards, it fell on deaf ears with my father.

Mutiny then started as soldiers began to ignore Father, supporting John Sark for a week now. Father was a count. He technically owned this county. However, his military rank was not a captain but a sergeant under my grandpa. He never went up in rank due to his duty as a count, so technically, I held the highest rank, but this battalion of soldiers was too big for a single Colonel like me. (I just went up in rank a month after I married Catherine). There was another Colonel beside me, and that was John Sark. He was promoted because he was a mage and participated in the Western Front. Unfortunately, there was no general here to make decisions, so the colonels had to discuss with each other or act alone with their own units. The supply line got messy afterward.

"Why are you disobeying orders?" Father asked when he interrogated twenty men bringing out their rifles to patrol and bullets. Even though he tried to ask calmly, frustration seeped out from his every word. "John, are you letting them?"

"No. I said I was only letting them bring out ten." John Sark was a bit more lenient but also in support of Father's decisions. "However, it appears they pressured the armory to give all the patrol a gun."

"Look at these! Ten new rifles were broken!"

"They were not broken, sir; they only needed repairs." the Royal guard corrected him. "We only need to change the flintlock on the six guns and the breeches for the others. Then clean and oil the parts. The smith could do that."

"There were no smiths here who could repair this! Not even the Western Front smiths could make the new breeches. Even if we had the parts in the supplies, we could not fix this on our own. Do you guys have the specialized screwdrivers? What if you broke the bolt or worse, the threaded hole! Have you been trained to repair a gun?"

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Count Shadowsteps, there were two smiths from the royal capital just for this exact occasion, right? It was not the end of the world." John replied. "But, I will inquire about our remaining supplies. Even they could not repair these guns without the specialized mold and furnace."

"If there were no smiths, your head would fly right now due to insubordination!" Father said.

"Sir, This is a military matter. I sincerely hope you will not interrupt us." The royal guard said. Some of them snickered. My father was technically lower in military rank than me or John Sark. That's why these soldiers were getting bolder.

"Guys, if you don't shut up, I will issue a formal punishment and a letter of reprimand. I know Count Shadowstep from my father, alright. He might not have the military rank, but he has the skills," John Sark said. "Zach, try to calm your father down. By the way, I will leave it to you to punish these men. They still need to go to war; please don't punish them too harshly. Count Shadowstep, while their action regarding our precious guns was regrettable, guns were not our main problem. It was the towers. Remember that. We lacked both towers and cannons. I could remake the towers, but it would take two weeks since we ran out of building supplies. Moreover, if they shot their cannons at the wall, I needed to repair it first, and thus more delays."

After John left, the royal guards started to belittle Father more. "Colonel Zach, I know your father was an underling of some war hero. But times have changed; we have trained extensively using guns. Bows, arrows, and swords are outdated. Sword fighting is only a plaything with junior students nowadays."

"Guns are better than bows. I acknowledge that. However, my father is also right. What if we run out of ammunition before supplies arrive?"

"Are you implying ammunition is more important than soldiers' lives?" The guard said.

"If the supplies don't arrive in the next three days, all of you will be court-martialed," my father said. "Begone. I have no time for your petty punishment."

The royal guard and my father glared at each other before they left. As the royal guard left, Father only stared at the map of our county and sighed. He also refused to talk to me further.

The patrol the next day; the royal guard refused to go outside without guns, and Father tasked them to guard the walls with bows instead. There were limited guns after all. Not everyone will get them. The county's knight will be charged to patrol from now on instead.

"Sir, if you have no respect for the royal guards, why don't you just defend this countryside by yourself?" Another fight broke out when I returned. First was the harassment, and now this? These royal guards were an entitled bunch.

"Why did you put a ban on food supplies? Are we marching on the enemy nation here? We still have loads of food!"

"All food is under military jurisdiction, right, John Sark?"

"Yes. We have to start stockpiling food from now on. Our communication was jammed. We lost contact with the capital, and they didn't promise us supplies the last time I contacted them. Instead of three days, we might need two weeks instead. You were right; our supplies ran quite dangerously low if we have to survive two weeks instead of one."

"All food will be rationed equally between the military and the citizens. I have sent letters to the capital."

"Sir. The enemy made another attack! The towers were damaged!"

"Damn it." John immediately ran out of the HQ and headed to the tower. He was an earth mage. Without him, we would lose another tower.

"Dad, do you think we can hold on?"

"I don't know. I hope they can send the supplies as soon as possible…" He muttered.

The day passed, and we had 150 dead. With only one tower in working condition, the enemy reached the walls, and those goblins climbed it with the help of ladders. The royal guards were efficient warriors, but they lost morale easily, and many fled once they saw we had casualties.

"What kind of soldiers ask to go home after seeing casualties? Aren't you guys royal guards?" John Sark shouted. My father just had a deadpan expression while staring at the map. He had long lost respect for the royal guards.

"Sir, the battle here is hopeless. We couldn't win against an endless wave of monsters."

"If you guys wanted to go home, then you may. However, you may not bring any weapons home. We need them more than you do. Sir Zach, if you will write the letters?" My father said. His gaze moved from the map and stared at the soldiers' faces. I couldn't read his mind lately. I have no idea what he was thinking.

"Sir. Thank you, sir!" The soldiers smiled in relief.

"Please request some reinforcements and supplies from the capital when you return. Okay?"

"Yes, sir. I will, sir."

With that, a thousand soldiers applied for leave and thus returned to the capital. Not all royal guards left. Many still stood side by side with us. When I looked around, I breathed a sigh of relief. Not all of them were assholes.

"Why did you let them go? We need them," John Sark said, furious.

"We don't need them; what we need is the supplies. These royal guards barely knew sword fighting and archery. All they could use was muskets, and we only had 250 of them."

"We lack more men. These guys were still better at sword fighting and archery than peasants." John Sark defended. "You couldn't possibly ask to defend this county with only your personal knights!"

"If you forced them to stay here, we ran the risk of mass desertion during the real thing. Moreover, not all of them go. From now on is where the real war starts."

"I hope they will bring supplies. We need them," I whispered as my father and John Sark argued.

After John left, Handler 3 came into our room and introduced himself. He began listing four possible ways to retreat, but my father interrupted him.

"Reaper, how much should I pay you to give Elidranthia, my daughter, a message?" He asked. The handler went silent and then giggled.

"Four gold. I will give you a discount. How fast would you like it delivered? We have a telephone, after all."

"Preferably in two days." He said.

"Huh? Why?" I asked him but was ignored.

"What's the message? If it was a secret message, you could deliver it via letter."

"You will still open it, right?" He smirked.

"We will, of course. But relax, we know how to keep a secret. We won't survive in this business without trust, after all. Hehehe."

"Very well. I will assign R661 for the job."

"R666 is currently in the capital, right? Why don't you telephone him for the job? Or is he too expensive?" My father and I were impressed by his work when he scouted the forest and when he bombed the supply depot several months ago.

"Well, he was our rising star, after all. Gotta let others in on some cash too. Or do you insist on using him? I have to charge extra then."

"Well, never mind. It was just some simple message delivery. It was not even that confidential. Here is the message. 'Elidranthia, this is Count Shadowstep and Zach. I want you to meet with Prince Ludwin and ask him to deliver supplies to our county. We need guns and ammunition. Here is what we need, and this is our situation report. The enemy employed thousands of monsters as a meat shield. If they pass through here, our empire is doomed.'" My father said as he gave Handler 3 a list.

"Got it. Consider it delivered. Dear me, those pesky Elderans had to use a jammer in this region. I have to walk all the way back outside the area to deliver the message." Handler 3 then left while complaining.

"Dad, why waste money on reapers again? We already sent a messenger to military affairs."

He then looked at me gravely. Then, I finally understood. He trusts no one.