Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 76: arrival of the enemy(1)



Chapter 76: arrival of the enemy(1)

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"So, what do you have to report?" Alpheo inquired, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the drink before taking a sip. The warm sensation spread through his throat and stomach, but it lacked the strength of the spirits from his past life. "I need to make spirits as soon as possible," he grimaced, longing for the potent drinks he once enjoyed.

Seated across the room, Asag shifted nervously. This was his first assignment, and despite the diminishing anxiety, a sense of unease lingered.

In his faint voice, Asag replied to Alpheo's question, "I have watched him until now, and there is nothing significant to report. He spends most of his time in his room when he's not training his men. He rarely leaves the room except to grab a drink or two, sometimes with company, prostitutes."

"Hardly compromising," Alpheo mused, swirling the liquid in his cup. "Death is blind and will come to all. It's normal for him to seek pleasure. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? What about when he leaves the room? Has he ever left the city?"

"Not once," Asag confirmed. "As I said, the times he leaves, he gets a drink and a meal before retiring to his room.Hardly suspicious.... The individuals who entered his room mostly wore capes, but my observers noted they were different women each time. When they left, they returned to..." Asag gestured with his hand in a circular motion, "...their place of work."

"So, from what you've seen, there's nothing to feed our suspicions about him?" Alpheo probed, his gaze fixed on Asag.

"None at all..." Asag replied, his voice trailing off.

"And what about your judgment? Do you think he's clean?" Alpheo pressed further.

Asag pondered for a moment, allowing the question to linger. "From what I've observed and what's been reported to me, I see no reason to distrust him. However, the day is still young, and our wall is rather peaceful. Who knows if he might entertain any funny ideas later on? I suggest we maintain our watch over him, but for now, he seems as clean as a baby."

"Hmm," Alpheo hummed, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. "Have it your way. Report back to me if y—"

Before Alpheo could finish his sentence, the door shook open, and all eyes turned toward it. Egil strode in, his expression dark and grim. Alpheo sighed grimly, already anticipating the news, and Egil's next words only confirmed his fears.

The enemy had finally come.

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Alpheo stood tall upon the battlements, his gaze scanning the distant horizon. The air was crisp, tinged with the anticipation of impending conflict. "Breathe this air, boys," he began, his voice carrying over the quiet murmur of the men. "This is going to be the last moments of peace we'll have for a long time."

His words hung heavy in the air, each man absorbing the weight of their impending battle. They took deep breaths, their expressions a mix of resolve and apprehension. Only Jarza remained outwardly calm, his demeanor steady despite the looming threat.

''You seem rather calm''Clio spoke as he tried to hide his axiousness, he failed. He was no warrior, no soldier, this was basically his first fight. When Alpheo thought of the lack of human resources he did not lie.He had to teach what he could on being an officer to people that before being slaves were fisherman or peasants.Above all Alpheo valued loyalty, so he made sure to at least try to morph his close group of aider the best he could.

He teached Clio, Laedio and Asag about tactics, on how to lead men , on the formation to they were to make their men form. Yet he knew that what they needed was experience.Most of his men were green, they needed to bloody themselves.After all seeing hundredds of people clashing if scary as hell,so he treated this siege as an opportunity to get them desensitized of blood. After all fighting while being on top of the wall is a great boost in confidence.

Jarza turned to Clio, his gaze neutral yet perceptive. "This isn't my first rodeo," he remarked with a hint of amusement. "I've seen my fair share of battles and sieges. And let me tell you, our position is rather favorable. We have ample food and manpower to defend these walls." He then turned his attention to Alpheo, a rare smile gracing his lips. "You've handled the situation admirably," he admitted. "I would hardly believe this is your first time defending a city under siege

You are as young as a pup, yet you possess the knowledge and skills of a seasoned warrior," Jarza remarked, his tone laced with curiosity. "Are you a noble? You seem to have been educated."

The question stirred something within the group, each member exchanging glances as they awaited Alpheo's response. His origins had always been a subject of speculation among them, his actions often contradicting the humble beginnings he claimed.

Alpheo met their gaze with a calm demeanor, his expression unreadable. "You always overthink things, Jarza," he replied evenly. "What I've said about my origins is the truth. If I were a noble, would I not know how to read and write? And above all, would I be a slave?If I was liability I would be killed not shipped off as an object "

His words struck a chord with the group, prompting a moment of contemplation. Egil voiced his uncertainty, acknowledging the possibility of overthinking the matter. Jarza, too, conceded to the logic in Alpheo's explanation, his doubts fading slightly.

"As for my skills," Alpheo continued, his tone casual yet confident, "perhaps they are a gift from the gods. Some men are born to lead, regardless of their origins." With a shrug, he redirected their focus. "Now, if we've concluded our interrogation, we have a city to protect."

With a deep breath, Alpheo's carefree expression melted away, replaced by one of seriousness, as this was to be his first contact with leading people in an actual war.

The wind blew , the air was heavy with the exhale of hundreds men , and soon the rumble of war would come to them,and fate would decide if they were to dance on their tune , or to make a song of their own .

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