Lord: I Grind EXP with Warband Panel

As Prince Noah was completing his night raid, Marin finished mobilizing his army. Tens of thousands of soldiers were arrayed in a narrow pass before Qimo Fortress, a rather imposing sight.

"Put them here! Understand? I have big plans for these Magic Crystal Cannons!" Marin ordered his men.

"Sir, if we place them here... we may not be able to hit the enemy." The leader of the Beastman Magic Crystal Cannon Team was a bald Gray Dwarf.

The Gray Dwarves were not a monolithic group. In fact, the Beastman Imperial Court had many Gray Dwarf technicians who served the Beastman Royal Family exclusively.

Their skill with Magic Crystal Cannons was considered first-rate in the Beastman Empire. At the very least, they could get them to fire.

Marin frowned. He hadn’t considered this. Previously, Robson’s Magic Crystal Cannons could hit the Bearmen with precision from several kilometers away.

He had overlooked the fact that there was a significant technological gap between the Magic Crystal Cannons of the Beastman Empire and those of the humans.

"Then where do you need to be positioned?" Marin asked.

"Probably... within a kilometer. That’s the only distance from which we can hit the target," the Gray Dwarf said.

"A kilometer?!" Marin exclaimed. ’At a distance of a kilometer,’ Marin was fairly certain, ’my Magic Crystal Cannons won’t even get off a single shot before the enemy annihilates my Magic Crystal Cannon Team.’

The Gray Dwarf technician was clearly a little embarrassed.

Marin gazed into the darkness and couldn’t help but mutter a complaint. Though he’d anticipated that his Magic Crystal Cannon Team might be pathetic, he hadn’t expected them to be *this* pathetic.

’But at least it’s dark. The enemy shouldn’t be able to target us.’

"General! General! We have news!" 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

One of his men came rushing over, flustered, an urgent look on his face.

Marin was already in a foul mood and immediately took his anger out on the poor messenger.

"What is it? Why the recklessness! What news is so important it warrants such a disgraceful display?"

The rebuked messenger immediately snapped to attention.

"Yes, General."

"Well, spit it out! What’s the news?" Marin said, frowning.

"Priest Gu Tesi said to give you this. It’s an order from Prince Kase." The messenger pulled a leather scroll from behind his back.

’The Prince?’ Marin’s heart sank.

’Is the Prince going to blame me? Is the punishment coming this soon? Isn’t he going to give me a chance to redeem myself?’

With a sense of trepidation, Marin opened the letter.

Reading the message in the letter, Marin’s mood was like a roller coaster, soaring high one moment and plunging low the next.

The good news: Prince Kase didn’t intend to reprimand him. The bad news: if he didn’t achieve some results soon, he wouldn’t just be waiting for a reprimand, but a final reckoning.

"There’s another letter here," the messenger said.

Marin took it and hurriedly opened it. It was a message from his father.

After reading both letters, Marin took a deep breath.

"Alright," Marin said. "Tell Priest Gu Tesi to send a reply back. I understand."

Gazing at the distant Qimo Fortress, Marin’s brow furrowed. He had no choice but to attack now.

With both his father and Prince Kase sending letters, he could not afford to delay any longer.

"General..." the Gray Dwarf asked cautiously, watching Marin’s expression shift unpredictably.

Marin sighed and looked at the adjutant beside him.

"Tell the Kobolds to get ready. We move tonight. We’re launching the attack immediately," Marin said.

The adjutant stared at Marin in disbelief.

"General, now? But the army hasn’t had any real rest. To attack now..." the adjutant protested.

"I know," Marin said. "But the situation forces our hand. We have no choice. Now go, quickly."

The adjutant only had to worry about the immediate victory. He, Marin, had far more to consider.

The Prince had given his order. Marin was in no position to defy it.

’Since we have to attack anyway, we might as well use the cover of night and see if we can take Qimo Fortress in one fell swoop.’

’Once day breaks, the enemy’s Magic Crystal Cannons will have a clear line of sight. Things will get much more difficult then.’

"Yes, General," the adjutant said, resigned.

....

Marin’s preparations for the attack didn’t take long.

This was one of the benefits of a tribal system. There was no need for complex, multi-stage deployments. He just had to assign tasks and tell each chieftain who was to charge and who was to hold back.

Signal fires blazed to life throughout the Beastman Camp, and the air filled with the shouts of messengers, the presence of the Extraordinary, and the distinctive cries of the Dogman Chiefs.

The Magic Crystal Cannons were also slowly moved into position, pulled by several giant oxen.

The only shame was that they had no proper siege equipment. The only things that could even be considered siege weapons were perhaps those three Magic Crystal Cannons.

There was no helping it. Robson’s act of setting fire to the forest, while ruthless, had been brutally effective.

Now, not a single tree could be found within thirty kilometers of Qimo Fortress.

What little wood they had managed to prepare beforehand could only be used for building meager siege equipment or shelters for the army. Luckily, the Kobolds could dig their own burrows; otherwise, Marin would have been in a real bind.

This was another reason Marin wanted a swift, decisive battle. The fire that had burned away the nearby forest had also dried up many small lakes. If they couldn’t achieve a breakthrough in the next two days, Marin would likely have to contend with a water shortage.

The Kobolds’ night vision wasn’t much better than a human’s. However, they operated in tight-knit tribal units, and with the bright moonlight tonight, Marin ordered them to minimize the use of torches.

While this would cause some confusion, it was far more advantageous on the whole.

....

On duty on the fortress walls at this hour was the Third Reserve Regiment, arranged by Robson. They were the men sent over by Count Valentino.

The entire First Regiment was currently resting. Robson wasn’t worried about them oversleeping; their barracks were situated right at the base of the wall, so they would be the first to react to any enemy activity.

On the wall, Hans cradled his spear and gazed at the moon, his thoughts inexplicably drifting to his hometown.

Being illiterate, he couldn’t remember his hometown’s name. He only remembered a small river and a very strict lord...

"Odin," Hans said to his companion, a friend who had been conscripted alongside him, "tell me, why do you think our new lord feeds us so well?"

At that moment, Odin was busy polishing his silver spear.

Hearing Hans’s question, Odin paused in his polishing.

He hadn’t really thought about it.

’Training was so exhausting all day, who had the time to think about such things?’

’Still, life had certainly been different since they started serving this new lord. Even though the lord worked them half to death every day, at least they could eat their fill.’

’Eating your fill was more important than anything else.’

"I think... things really are different now," Hans murmured on.

Odin glanced at Hans, confused.

"How so?"

"Everything’s different, Odin! Don’t you feel it? We’re Soldiers!

We’re not slaves anymore. Well, not entirely."

"Look at this," Hans said, his voice rising with excitement. "This leather armor! Back home, even the militia officers might not have gotten a set like this."

Hans lacked the words to truly express what he meant. If he had ever been to school, he might have known that what he was feeling was respect, a sense of his own self-worth.

Odin ignored Hans. He lowered his head and went back to polishing his silver spear, uninterested in such things.

’His friend was prone to these fits of fancy. Once, after listening to a Minstrel sing a couple of lines, he’d even started fantasizing about becoming a Knight Lord.’

Hans smacked his lips, feeling like he was talking to a brick wall.

"Wait, what’s that?"