NOVPUBUnlike others, Ghislain had no intention of merely dragging things out.
Prolonging the siege for an easy victory would be ideal, but it wasn’t an option here.
Though Ghislain had waited for the drought to hit to ensure he could secure resources easily and create a situation where neither the Ducal faction nor the Royalists could act openly, now speed was key. Capturing the fortress as quickly as possible was critical.
‘The Marquis of Branford will handle any moves from the Ducal faction.’
Ghislain had chosen the Marquis as his patron precisely for situations like this. Branford, invested in maintaining influence in the North, would do everything possible to protect Fenris.
The remaining threat was Count Desmond, whom the Ducal faction would likely mobilize, not wanting to risk a full-scale civil war.
‘I have to seize this fortress before Desmond arrives.’
While his forces intercepted every messenger attempting to leave Cabaldi’s fortress, it was only a matter of time before Desmond caught wind of the situation. Cautious as he was, Desmond would act, regardless of orders from the Ducal faction.
Losing this territory would deal a severe blow to Desmond, who was in the process of regrouping his forces, and he couldn’t afford to sit idle, drought or no drought.
‘Count Cabaldi knows that too, which is why he’s staying put.’
Cabaldi’s forces were starving, and with no other options, they would eventually have to make a stand. Yet, they made no moves, confident that reinforcements would arrive.
The advantage Ghislain held was precarious, and he had to stay a step ahead.
The time was ripe, and the preparations were set. It was time to capture the fortress swiftly.
Ghislain wasn’t going to throw his forces into a head-on siege, knowing that without siege engines and with most of his troops being foot soldiers, an assault on the walls would result in heavy losses.
Attempting a siege without overwhelming weapons and forces was reckless. This was why he hadn’t brought siege engines to begin with—minimizing losses was always key to building a stronger force quickly.
“Intelligence reports that another lord is preparing to send reinforcements to aid Count Cabaldi. We need to capture the fortress before they arrive.”
Hearing this, the troops, albeit disappointed, began digging tunnels.
They understood why: without siege weapons, tunneling was the only feasible option.
Although it wasn’t clear who was sending the reinforcements, their arrival meant additional hardship.
The dwarves also realized why Ghislain had brought them along—they were experts at tunneling. Carving through hard rock and creating underground cities was routine for them, so digging a tunnel was a simple matter.
“Agh! Just when I thought I’d get a break, here’s more work! There’s never a dull moment in this blasted estate!”
Galbarik, grumbling incessantly, took charge of his fellow dwarves, drawing up tunnel plans.
There were two ways to use tunnels to capture a fortress: dig under the walls to collapse them or infiltrate the fortress from within.
Both were risky, but the latter had a higher success rate. Collapsing the walls meant a full-on battle with the enemy, while infiltrating allowed for a surprise attack from within.
“We’ll dig as carefully as possible to avoid being detected,” Galbarik said.
Ghislain shook his head. “No, prioritize speed over silence. It’s alright if we make some noise.”
“But if we’re detected, the entire operation could fail.”
“It’s fine. Dig toward the rear of the fortress. Speed is what matters most right now.”
“Understood. We’ll break through as fast as possible.”
Though the distance increased by targeting the rear, it wasn’t a significant issue. Any solid ground could be drilled through by mages and knights, and the thousands of soldiers would manage the digging and support.
Once the dwarves began directing the work, the tunnel construction progressed at a staggering speed.
Everyone understood the urgency and worked hard, though there were, of course, those who complained.
“Agh! Why did I get dragged here to do this filthy, grueling work! And why is there so much dust? I can’t breathe!”
Cain, forced into conscription, cursed nonstop as he worked with a pickaxe.
Having grown up as an aristocrat, he had never performed such grueling labor, and the unfairness of it all fanned his anger.
Still, he didn’t dare to escape, knowing that he’d been thoroughly “educated” on the terror Ghislain could instill. If he tried to run and was caught, he might genuinely be killed.
“Damn bastard! And we’re cousins! He could’ve at least given me a command position instead of making me do this!”
Cain spent his time cursing Ghislain, as it was the only way to relieve his frustration. Even after all that “education,” his persistent grumbling showed he had some spirit left.
“You damn rat! Just you wait! When I get stronger, I’ll make sure to separate your bones from your flesh! I’m not meant for such degrading labor! And why am I so good at it?!”
With his natural strength, large build, and mana techniques learned from his family, Cain was surprisingly efficient at digging.
Watching with satisfaction, Galbarik clapped his hands.
“Hey, you there, Ke... um, what was his name? Anyway, Mr. K, stop mumbling nonsense and move these sacks.”
Cain’s eyes turned wild at being ordered like a servant. “What?! You want me to move that? Do you even know who I am? Are you asking for death?”
Cain couldn’t bear the disrespect, especially coming from a dwarf.
But Galbarik simply shrugged, unfazed. “Who are you, then? Lord Ghislain said you’re a newly acquired slave. A strong and sturdy one at that.”
The dwarves genuinely didn’t know Cain’s identity, as Ghislain had instructed everyone aware of Cain’s background to keep it secret. Knowing him as a slave allowed others to work him hard without reservation.
Unaware of this, Cain could only erupt like a madman.
“I am a noble! I’m not like you common laborers!”
“Oh, really? If you’re a noble, then I’m the Elf Queen. Now, get moving before I bury you here.”
“Aagh! I’ll kill you!”
Cain brandished his pickaxe, only for Galbarik to snort dismissively.
“Oh? You’re really going to strike me? Should I inform the lord and ask him to put you in shackles?”
“Ugh... argh!”
Cain, red with anger, lowered his pickaxe and began to cry. He was so furious he had no other outlet but tears.
He hated this so much—if only he’d managed to scrape together those thousand gold coins from his parents’ treasury.
Seeing him cry, Galbarik patted him on the back. He wanted to put an arm around Cain’s shoulder, but he couldn’t reach.
“Hey, hey, stop crying! Once we’re done, I’ll share some hidden booze with you. Only a fellow slave can understand a slave’s heart.”
“Sniff... hic...”
It was all miserable. Still, the mention of liquor got Cain nodding through his tears.
“Good, now get that cart moving. You know how the lord is. We’re out of time.”
Cain wiped his tears and moved the cart. As humiliating as it was, Galbarik was right. If they delayed, Ghislain, with his infamous temper, might unleash a storm on them.
While the Fenris forces busied themselves with tunneling, Count Cabaldi was informed of a new development.
“The Fenris forces have split into two groups.”
“What?”
Originally stationed to the north of the fortress, about half of Fenris’s troops had now moved toward the eastern gate.
“Why would he split his forces?”
Though tempted to crush each group individually, Cabaldi quickly dismissed the idea.
Even divided, they numbered around 1,500—a force too large to easily defeat without risking a pincer attack.
‘It doesn’t make sense for them to attack both sides without siege engines...’
Pondering the situation, Count Cabaldi summoned the fortress’s resident mage.
“Can you observe what they’re doing? The forces moving eastward.”
“Can’t we see from the walls?”
The mage tilted his head, puzzled.
The Fenris forces had set up camp just outside the range of the fortress’s trebuchets. However, a keen-eyed knight could still make out the layout and number of tents.
Cabaldi shook his head. “I don’t mean the general setup. I want to know if they’re doing anything unusual. Are they just waiting, or working on something out of sight?”
“Understood. While the distance is a bit far for extended viewing, I can observe them briefly.”
“That will do.”
The mage climbed the fortress wall and cast a detection spell.
As a third-circle mage, detection spells required significant mana. The mage, who read extensively and wore glasses due to his eyesight, squinted and surveyed the Fenris camp.
Once he’d gathered the information, he clutched his dizzy head and hurried back to Count Cabaldi.
“It appears they’re conducting some sort of construction work.”
“Construction?”
“I couldn’t see clearly due to the large tents, but I noticed soldiers busily moving soil-laden carts and heavy sacks.”
At this, Count Cabaldi chuckled, rubbing his forehead.
“So, that brat’s trying to dig a tunnel. Seems he knows a few tricks.”
There were few ways to capture a fortress without siege engines, and tunneling was one of the most common methods.
Northern fortresses lacked moats, save for a few key estates, which made them easier targets for tunneling.
“Hah, so he’s worried the Royalists might intervene and wants to take the fortress quickly. Yet, like the naive child he is, he’s going about it in the most obvious way. Who openly digs a tunnel? Hahaha!”
For a tunnel to work, it had to be dug in secret. If detected, it could backfire catastrophically.
The usual tactic was to distract the enemy and use decoys to mislead them about the real tunnel location. But with no siege engines, Fenris had limited options, and Cabaldi saw right through it.
“Pathetic. Thinking he can fight a war just because he’s lucky enough to have some food to fuel his troops. They say he won his last war with a trap. It must’ve been his father’s skill.”
Cabaldi couldn’t help but laugh. He no longer felt anger toward Ghislain, just amusement at the young noble’s clumsy efforts.
“Why not go out and finish them now, with such incompetent leadership at their helm?”
But after a brief consideration, Cabaldi shook his head. As long as he could pinpoint the tunnel’s direction, he could set up a counter-ambush and wipe them out easily, minimizing losses.
He issued swift orders.
“Deploy vibration sensors around the walls. Track where they’re tunneling, and we’ll lay traps and station soldiers accordingly!”
The soldiers quickly set up pots and jars filled with water around the walls, burying some in the ground. The vibrations caused by digging would ripple through the water, indicating the tunnel’s location.
After three days of patient monitoring, a knight rushed to Cabaldi, breathless.
“We’ve identified the direction, sir! It appears they’re tunneling toward the south gate.”
“What? Already? And they’re coming from the south, not the east? They’ve taken quite a detour... but how is the digging so fast?”
Cabaldi, suspecting Ghislain’s intentions, clicked his tongue. If successful, it would be an effective tactic.
“So, the fool intends to slip in through the tunnel and attack us from within rather than bring down the walls. Are you certain they’re approaching from the south?”
“Absolutely, sir. There’s nothing else around that would affect the readings.”
With the vibrations confirming the tunnel’s location, the enemy would likely break through within two or three days. Cabaldi stood, issuing further commands.
“Gather our main forces at the target area and prepare. The moment they surface, we’ll slaughter them. Once they’re in disarray, open the gates and launch a direct assault!”
“What about the walls, sir?”
“Hm, they have no siege engines, and most of their troops are infantry. Even if they come close, they likely mean only to distract us. But let’s keep a few defenses in place; archers alone should suffice.”
“Understood!”
Cabaldi grinned confidently, certain of his victory.
Even a large force could be wiped out if led by an incompetent commander. The reckless Baron Fenris would lose most of his troops the moment they emerged from the tunnel.
“Ha! Thanks to that brat, my reputation will soar. It’s a blessing in disguise.”
Visualizing his triumph—turning a disadvantage into victory before reinforcements even arrived—Cabaldi couldn’t help but smile. Nobles would praise his military acumen, and even the Ducal faction would be impressed.
Just as he had predicted, two nights later, the Fenris forces made their move.
Watching the approaching figures in the darkness, Cabaldi burst out laughing.
“Hahaha! Look at this fool! Advancing so blatantly in the dead of night—what does he think he’s doing?”
The advancing forces showed no fear. Lacking siege engines, ladders, or any means of assault, they seemed destined only for a shower of arrows.
With such an obvious display, it was clear they were merely a diversion.
“Is the main force in position?”
“All set, sir.”
“Good. I’ll lead them personally. It’s time to put an end to that brat.”
Cabaldi laughed heartily as he moved toward the designated point, accompanied by his knights, equally confident and smiling.
Yet, as they laughed, dozens of enormous shadows suddenly rose against the dark sky above them.
