Duke Rickman led his army to rest briefly inside the castle.
An enraged Joyce, after aggressively interrogating several peasants, finally realized that his wealth had been distributed to the poor within the castle by Raydell. So had even fled with Raydell before their arrival.
Joyce, furious, imdiately gathered the remaining peasants within his territory, demanding they return everything they had taken. Additionally, he ordered an extra twenty silver coins as punishnt. Those unable to comply would face a whipping!
Initially, Joyce personally carried out the punishnts, leaving several peasants bruised and bloodied before handing the task to the guards.
The peasants who were reluctant to abandon their land or houses, or those who mistrusted Raydell, now regretted their decisions deeply. Their resentnt towards Joyce grew stronger.
anwhile, the nobles and wealthy who had hidden in tunnels or secret rooms, evading everything, were jubilant. They ford a spontaneous militia of five hundred n, rallying under Joyce's command, aiming to eliminate the wretched mine slaves and reclaim their treasures.
For Joyce, this unexpected turn was a delight. He had been contemplating conscripting more peasants to form a temporary force to bolster his numbers, fearing he'd have no one else to rely on except the Duke's guards.
Now, with this militia, he found it more convenient. No longer would he have to deploy his troops carrying hoes and mining tools into battle, a sight unfitting for nobility.
During the night, scouts he had dispatched earlier returned with news. Several kiloters from the castle, they spotted traces of the mine slaves, a scattered multitude estimated to be several tens of thousands strong.
"It seems they haven't gone too far!" Rickman sighed in relief. His biggest worry had been their dispersion, vanishing without a trace, hindering the Prince's orders—a real hassle.
"Continue tracking them, but don't alert them!" Rickman instructed. He had no intention of pursuing them under cover of darkness, opting instead to rest here for the night.
The previous encounter had taught Rickman about their cunning. A midnight pursuit might result in a dreadful outco.
Their plan was to intercept the slaves in the plains ahead, revealing all their vile sches!
Thinking this, Rickman shook his head, scoffing, "These foolish mine slaves. If they had held onto this castle, they might have posed more of a challenge, requiring us to spend more ti dealing with them."
"They must have heard of your reputation, which frightened them into a hasty retreat. Despite having a fortress to rely on, they couldn't overco their inner weaknesses!" Joyce flattered.
Rickman burst into laughter. The assembled nobles chid in, fantasizing about the rewards they would receive after this victory from generous Prince Harold.
"Oh, by the way, where is the Second Prince? I didn't hear any news about his actions when I was in the capital," soone queried amidst the boasting.
Listening to the boasting, Rickman suddenly rembered this matter. He felt sowhat uneasy; this issue was crucial in determining the heir to the throne, sothing the Second Prince should be very concerned about.
"I heard that His Highness Hatar had disagreents with several counts regarding troop deploynts. That might be why there have been delays," a baron speculated.
"At such a critical juncture, internal discord—this Second Prince seems unsuitable for the throne..." Rickman mocked, finally letting go of his worries.
Earlier, scouts had reported that a count supporting Hatar led a vanguard force, not very nurous, trailing them from a distance. It seed they were discontented, which was why scouts were observing their movents closely.
"Let them witness how we crush those mine slaves!" Rickman declared firmly, raising his goblet. "For our victory and for King Harold!"
The others raised their glasses, echoing, "For King Harold!"
...
Early the next day, as the sky began to brighten, Duke Rickman assembled his army to chase after the mine slaves, eager to prevent their escape. He also dispatched a cavalry unit to drive them towards a suitable location.
Rickman was ambitious; not only did he aim to crush the rebellious mine slaves, but he intended to annihilate them completely! Such a resounding victory would be the best gift for the new king!
However, things didn't go entirely as planned. Pursued by the cavalry, Raydell led his people to a valley, fortifying themselves there. Contrary to Rickman's expectations, due to unfavorable terrain, the cavalry ceased their pursuit.
"If we knew we'd be trapped here, we might as well have defended ourselves in the castle. Perhaps there would have been so chance," Ham complained. They were now trapped in this valley, with no escape route.
"That fortress belongs to Count Joyce. Who knows if he has left any traps behind? It might complicate things if we end up trapped inside and outside," Raydell explained, then added with a chuckle, "Besides, our waiting hasn't been in vain; the reinforcents have arrived, haven't they?"
"Reinforcents? Where?" Ham asked, puzzled.
"Right above us!" Raydell asserted confidently.
Ham and the others gazed bewilderedly at the sky, but there was nothing there.
Even Raydell saw nothing, yet he firmly believed that the reinforcents had arrived. A wizard had personally assured him of this.
In the next mont, the ground beneath the mine slaves seed to tremble fiercely, followed by a surge of light in the empty valley. Airships materialized before their eyes.
Ham and the others stared dumbfounded at these marvels, beyond their comprehension in their limited language. Each ship stood over twenty ters tall. Rembering Raydell's claim about reinforcents coming from the sky, soone imdiately shouted loudly.
"These must be creations of the gods! The gods have co to rescue us!"
To these desperate mine slaves, unfamiliar with magic, these airships suddenly appearing in the valley seed like divine intervention!
In an instant, shouts reverberated throughout the valley. Many mine slaves fell to their knees, worshipping these colossal beings towering higher than houses.
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