'But they were t with heavy criticism at first,' he mused. It only beca widely accepted as others followed suit. The first person to employ this tactic was heavily criticized, leaving a dark precedent in history. Eventually, he was hunted down and killed for his deeds.
"This is frustrating," Sylas muttered to himself. He could win in battle but couldn't secure occupation. Without control, resupplying troops and supplies would be impossible, leading to certain defeat.
"Do you have a map? Show where Baron Greve's territory is."
"Please wait a mont." Henrik pulled a small, sowhat poor travel map from his coat. Though not suited for military use, it at least indicated general borders and paths. Henrik pointed to a section on the map.
"Here's Falun, and over here is Baron Greve's domain."
"...?" Sylas blinked, staring at the map. Was he mistaken?
"This is Greve's land?" he asked.
"Yes," Henrik confird.
"But I thought it had a different na."
Elmholt. That had been the na given to this land before his return. The map, however, bore a completely different na.
"Ah, originally it was Elmholt."
"Why did it change, then?"
"It changed when the Baron took ownership. He didn't like the original na."
"Aha," Sylas chuckled, understanding that Greve wasn't born into nobility but later acquired the land. The original lord likely fell out of favor with the emperor or neighboring lords and was ousted.
"Well, that makes things easier. Justification is no longer an issue."
"Excuse ? Does this an you have a solution?" Henrik asked.
"Yes, and it's a perfect one."
It wasn't strictly orthodox, but Sylas now had a justifiable claim—one that only he could wield in this land. Read latest chapters at My Virtual Library Empire
"Is that true?" Baron Greve's current lord, Philip Greve, frowned upon hearing his son Larius's report.
"It seems he's not thinking straight, Father. To challenge us with only Falun at his side?"
Falun was close to exile, and most n there had war experience. But even accounting for that, their numbers were too low.
"To think he'd attempt a siege with such a small force," Philip thought, exasperated. Larius, looking nervous, glanced at his father.
"Father, should we request aid from the Viscount?"
"Aid? We can handle this ourselves."
"But we don't know for sure…"
Seeing his son's anxiety, Philip clicked his tongue. His son had potential but was overly cautious.
"If we truly faced a crisis, I'd ask for help. But do you think this counts as a crisis? If we can't fend off this small force, what would the Viscount think of us?"
"You're right, of course," Larius muttered, hiding his concerns about their numbers. Philip calmly continued, "War isn't solely decided by fighting strength or numbers. Rember, why did your uncle Marius go to Falun?"
"For food supplies... Oh!"
"Exactly. They have no supplies," Philip smirked. Any noble knows the importance of supply in battle. More than one ruler has lost battles for lack of food.
"An army without supplies will collapse on its own. We only need to defend the castle."
"But what if a noble from the Corleone family joins them? From what I hear, his knights are formidable warriors."
In large battles, individual knights make little difference, but in smaller skirmishes, a single knight can be overwhelming. However, Philip remained unconcerned.
"It doesn't matter. If he has any sense, he won't join the war."
"Why do you believe that, Father? What if Bjorn promised him a reward?"
"It's not about rewards. He lacks the justification to occupy this land."
Even if they won the battle, an unprovoked occupation would be deed unlawful, angering the imperial family. In the north, where imperial decrees held sway, seizing land without reason was a form of treason, inviting attacks from every side.
"Even if they avoid occupying this land, challenging the Viscount directly would be madness."
In the end, whether Bjorn seized land or directly attacked the Viscount, he would be dood to fail. Philip was confident that anyone with proper training would refuse Bjorn's alliance.
"So, there's no need to worry."
"Of course, Father!" Larius agreed, relieved. Just then, a ssenger burst into the room.
"Sir! There's urgent news!"
"What is it? Has Bjorn arrived?"
"No, my lord! Sylas Corleone has issued a declaration of war against you!"
"What?!"
Both Philip and Larius shot to their feet in shock. Why would a Corleone declare war, not Bjorn?
"Hand it over!"
"Yes, my lord!" Philip grabbed the war declaration from the ssenger and read it. The wording was formal.
Since you have failed to rule properly, you disgrace the imperial authority. Therefore, I shall reclaim this land.
The problem lay in the justification written for taking the land.
"With the authority as the grandson of Norman and the son of Lyria, I shall expel the lord who defiles my ancestor's holand? Just who are these two?"
As Philip expected, the declaration of war should have co from Bjorn, accompanied by a lengthy justification for their actions. But what arrived was unexpected, both in content and sender; it wasn't from Bjorn but soone else entirely.
"What connection does the Corleone bloodline have to this land?" Philip yelled, tossing the declaration aside in disbelief. Norman and Lyria? These nas ant nothing to him, yet the docunt claid this land was their holand.
"Find out imdiately who Norman and Lyria are!" he ordered.
"Yes, my lord!" The administrator, flustered by the baron's fury, scrambled to search through records. After nearly a full day of rifling through docunts, he finally found traces of their nas and reported back, his face pale.
"I... I found them, my lord. Their nas are listed in the local registry."
"Well, let's hear it! Who were they? Knights? Relatives of the forr lord?" Philip pressed.
"Well…," the administrator hesitated, barely able to bring himself to say it. Just as Philip was about to lash out in anger, the man whispered, "They were commoners."
"What?" Philip's eyes narrowed.
"Not nobility. Norman was a hunter who lived here 17 years ago, and his daughter was nad Lyria."
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