Munitions Empire

"The rest is easy." Tang Mo's face remained devoid of any smile, cold as frost, and it stayed unchanged even after Wes had closed the carriage door for him.

But the rest was actually not easy at all. The reason Tang Mo had rushed from Wolf City to Ice Crystal City was that he still had another problem to solve.

This problem, from certain perspectives, was even more challenging than investigating the assassination of Count Fisheo.

After learning that Count Fisheo had been murdered in Ice Crystal City, the Suthers Kingdom, which had ceded Ice Crystal City, was not reconciled to its defeat and had once again become restless.

The enemy had assembled 6,000 men at the border – four legions in total – preparing to march south across the Ice Crystal River and reclaim the lost territories south of it.

War could erupt at any moment, and that also served as an external reason why Tang Mo was able to swiftly take command of the Northern Ridge's military power.

Everyone was worried that the Suthers's advance southwards would bring disaster to Northern Ridge. In the absence of leadership, they were naturally willing to comply with Tang Mo's dispatches.

On the Suthers side, the King of Suthers was keen to avenge his failure in Northern Ridge, so he planned to make the most of the opportunity presented by Count Fisheo's assassination to exact a great vengeance.

The force, hastily assembled, was commanded by the hero who had saved Suthers's southern territories in the last war—Earl Rommel.

You read that correctly, Rommel had been promoted. Although he had been pursued and routed by Tang Mo's 300 brave Brunas soldiers and several thousand hastily armed peasants in the southern part of the Kingdom, he had still been promoted.

Because according to nearly everyone's report, Sir Rommel had withstood the pressure at a critical moment, rallied the routed soldiers, and stabilized the southern part of the Kingdom at a crucial juncture, suppressing the rebellious rioters.

Such a towering figure was naturally to be promoted. So Rommel had now become an Earl, replacing Tucci, as one of the celebrated generals of the Kingdom.

Well... in short, he was now a rising military star in great demand within the Suthers Kingdom, also known as the most likely commander to regain Suthers's honor, succeeding General Tucci.

This time, because they were unprepared, the Suthers had hastily assembled some of the forces originally stationed along the border, intending to grab opportunistic benefits.

They lacked sufficient supplies and hadn't gathered enough forces, hastily mobilizing 6,000 soldiers and preparing to approach the Ice Crystal River.

This force, having reached the Ice Crystal River with great momentum, had actually taken two days, while across the river, the Northern Ridge troops had already sent back the strange movements of the Suthers forces to Ice Crystal City.

By the time Earl Rommel rode to the banks of the Ice Crystal River, he was still full of lofty aspirations.

After all, if he could indeed take back the ceded territories amidst the chaos, his great fame would truly be recorded in the history of the Suthers Kingdom.

"Fisheo is dead, Northern Ridge has no notable generals left!" He pointed across the river with his riding crop, boasting to the few senior officers beside him.

"They probably aren't ready yet, their troops are still in the barracks. Just as long as we cross the river, we've already won." A general, buttering up Rommel, nodded and said with a smile.

"Surprise them with an attack when they least expect it! Earl Rommel, you truly are a general of our age!" Another officer was also a master of flattery, opening his mouth with compliments of the highest caliber.

"Hahahaha!" Sure enough, Rommel was flattered and laughed loudly without any restraint.

As he laughed heartily, a knight rushed over on horseback and pulled on the reins in front of Rommel. "My Lord! A letter has been sent from the south shore."

Upon hearing this, Rommel's face grew even more radiant. "Ha! They've finally sent their surrender letter! Haha! It seems there are still a few wise men among those fools to the south."

The group of officers immediately began a new round of praise. "With you taking personal action, success is assured, my Lord!"

Rommel became even more smug, receiving the letter from the knight's hand while indulging in his ego, "Hmph! If it weren't for my rallying the troops and stabilizing the front last time, the southern part of the Kingdom—heavens, we can't even begin to guess how much land we might have lost!"

"Those damned peasant yokels! Following that calamitous star wreaking havoc—it's infuriating just to think about it!" Mentioning the war from more than half a year ago, the faces of the Suthers officers all showed pained expressions.

As nobility and upper-class individuals, most of them had personally experienced the disgraceful turmoil in the south.

In that chaos, they suffered devastating losses against the mob's onslaught, some of which have yet to recover their vitality to this day. Their families were plundered, decades of wealth turned to ash and smoke, the mere thought still drives them to the brink of despair.

Immediately, other generals chimed in, "Exactly! And they won't even let us reclaim the gold coins they stole... Just thinking about it feels like bad luck!"

At that time, the entire southern region was in turmoil, and at one point the enemy was less than 100 kilometers from King City.

What was terrifying was that the enemy had even coerced peasants and refugees into their ranks, distributing firearms and arming these scoundrels, sweeping through the possessions of the southern nobility.

One officer, swearing an oath, prepared to exact retribution for the blood debts of the past from the farmers of Northern Ridge, "Those people have now scurried off to Northern Ridge. This time, if we march there, we must capture them all! Hang them all! Let not a single one escape!"

"You're right!" His words garnered unanimous agreement from all the generals, who nodded fervently, their morale soaring to the zenith.

Amidst this enthusiastic discussion by the Suthers officers, they had yet to notice that among them, Lord Earl Rommel's complexion had turned deathly pale.

Most of them were laughing confidently, as if the victory over Northern Ridge was already firmly grasped in their hands.

So they laughed triumphantly, unabashedly roaring with laughter in the face of Earl Rommel's bloodless visage, "Ha ha, ha ha ha ha!"

Finally, someone sensed that something was amiss because they were sitting right next to Earl Rommel yet hadn't heard a single laugh from him.

This Suthers officer saw Rommel gazing down at the letter in his hand, with an expression of pain akin to constipation on horseback.

Uncertain of the reason, all he could manage was to address Rommel half-remindingly, half-inquisitively, "My Lord?"

"Hmm? My Lord?" The officer sitting beside Rommel also caught on, almost simultaneously asking with a puzzled face.

After receiving no response from Earl Rommel, his expression turned to panic as he asked again, "Earl Rommel, what... what's wrong with you?"

It was then that Rommel snapped out of his reverie, shifting his gaze from the letter with difficulty, and spoke anxiously, seeking the opinions of his fellow generals, "I... I suddenly... suddenly feel... my stomach is uncomfortable. Perhaps, perhaps we should set up camp here for today?"

He really didn't want to say such things because he knew from last time that it was his delay that had led to the loss of victory at the crossroads.

As expected, a general immediately spoke out in counsel, "My Lord, speed is of the essence in war! If we don't take advantage of the chaos in Northern Ridge and Fisheo's assassination to strike quickly, once Northern Ridge is ready, our 6,000 men may not fare so well..."

"Yes! My Lord, stopping here to make camp seems a bit unjustifiable," another general joined in.

As he spoke, he pointed ahead, "Just ahead is the Ice Crystal River. Shouldn't we cross first to prevent the enemy from being prepared and launching a flank attack on us by the river..."

"Silence, silence!" Rommel interrupted the generals' babbling in agitation.

"Hmm?" Everyone looked at him, somewhat astonished.

"Everyone, shut up!" Rommel couldn't contain himself any longer, his voice abruptly rising in a sharp rebuke.

Finally realizing there was an issue, one officer, looking puzzled at the letter in Rommel's hand, asked, "My Lord, what... what exactly is written in this letter?"

Rommel, like a deflated balloon, handed the letter to the officer who had asked, his voice filled with despair, "You... just read it yourself!"

The officer took the letter, glanced at it, and immediately gasped sharply, "Hss... cough, cough, cough cough cough cough cough!"

He seemed as though he'd choked on water, struggling to catch his breath after a fit of coughing, and with an embarrassed red face, he agreed with Rommel's decision, "If you ask me... well, setting up camp here isn't so bad after all."

"Huh? I say, what the hell is wrong with you people? How can a letter make you all so afraid?" Another officer frowned, snatched the letter from the officer's hand, and with disdain looked at his peers.

Then he bent his head to read it and within seconds, felt the letter burning hot in his hands.

He looked awkwardly around, forcing a laugh, "Well... I too think, think this is a good spot. Let's just set up camp here, heh heh, heh heh heh, ha ha ha ha."

"A letter scares you out of your wits! His Majesty the King would have none of it if he knew. You'd all be in a world of trouble! Cowards!" A burly commander with a stubbled face snatched the letter, glanced at its contents, and read, "Dear Commanding Officer. I am Tang Mo, the one who took 63,100 gold coins from Suthers last time. Since you seem to have forgotten who I am, please be prepared...

Now, I am coming. Sound the music."