Duke Salder was exceptionally happy today, partly because of the arrival of reinforcements, and partly because he received two pieces of good news.

The first message came from the scouts at the front. They discovered that the elves' recent actions were strange; they seemed to be making major relocations, and oddly, while increasing vigilance, they had simultaneously reduced the intensity of combat at the front.

Another piece of good news came from the capital. It seems that the conscription in the capital has encountered some difficulties, and the number of soldiers recruited appears to be lower than expected.

Two pieces of news arrived: one indicated that the elves were facing problems in their rear and were currently bluffing; the other suggested that the capital's control was weakening. However, the statements from all the dukes and marquises were rather ambiguous. Otherwise, Sald would have preferred to march south immediately and annihilate the imperial forces that had set out on their campaign. He'd heard they'd suffered a crushing defeat, and were led by the notoriously incompetent Lviv.

The soldiers he recruited were all experienced veterans. This was the military wealth that Duke Salder had painstakingly accumulated over the years. Three years ago, he forcibly discharged soldiers who had served for more than three years in his fiefdom, replacing them with new soldiers. In addition, he conducted military training for eligible men in his fiefdom last year. Although it attracted a lot of criticism and attention from the capital, it now seems that it was all worthwhile.

"Elves, this time, I will show you what defeat is!" Duke Sald closed his eyes and took a deep breath, already devising a plan for revenge.

"Tedler, select the best soldiers from the new troops and put them in your command. Head south from here, and you'll come to a river. Follow the road along the river, and you'll be able to bypass the elves' front and rush directly to Donic City, capture it, and cut off their supplies. Do you understand?"

The man called Tedler was a tall, robust man with long, flowing hair. He was Duke Salder's most valued general.

"Sir, there aren't many skilled recruits among this batch. Perhaps..."

"Aren't there many veterans? Can't you even muster a thousand?" Tedler's reaction displeased the Duke, and his voice rose slightly.

"My lord, for such a large-scale, long-distance raid, even the best fighters are not up to the task."

"You can choose whatever kind of people you need, but I can only allow you to take 1,500 people with you at most."

"Don't worry, sir. We don't need that many. If it's the kind of skilled men I need, eight hundred will be enough."

The Duke was very pleased with Tedler's answer. He patted Tedler on the back with satisfaction.

"Go for it! If we win this battle, we will be the strongest force in the empire, and from then on, nothing will be able to stop us!"

"That's for sure, sir. Just wait for my good news."

"Yes, don't worry. During the time you're gone, I'll keep putting pressure on the elves so they won't have time to pay attention to your actions."

"Thank you, sir."

On the other hand, the royal army gradually gathered their remaining troops, and to their surprise, more than a thousand of them who had been captured by the elves were also released.

According to the recollections of those released from the elves, the elves seemed to completely neglect them during this period, often forgetting to prepare lunch for them. After several instances of forgetting to provide food and subsequent protests, the elves simply released them all.

Norton and Lviv were both intrigued by this claim. The reason was that this wasn't just one or two prisoners saying this; most of the prisoners were saying the same thing. Moreover, the elven defenses had been quite weak in recent days, and they seemed to be constantly redeploying troops northward.

The most important piece of information, many soldiers were certain of, was that they hadn't seen any elven food transport wagons for a long time...

Norton slapped his forehead. "Could it be that that old geezer Sald won...?"

"Hmph, they lost too, and they seem to have lost even worse than us. I have definite information on this."

“Oh, tell me about it,” Norton said, intrigued. Although he knew nothing about war, he was very interested in the unfortunate stories of others.

"Hahaha, the news says they lost half their forces, and Sald even beheaded several generals who deserted in the face of battle." Lviv said with great enthusiasm, his face displaying a rich array of expressions, as if he were reciting an entire opera, even though it was only a short sentence.

"Hahahaha," Norton laughed happily. "At least we don't have any soldiers who escaped here. It seems that you, General, are much better than that Sald."

"Hahaha, he's getting old, so naturally his control over the army has declined." Lviv, flattered, beamed with delight. His face was full of smug satisfaction.

"So what's our next step? Should we take this opportunity to give the elf a good kick in the butt?"

Lviv twirled his daily-groomed mustache and pretended to ponder for a moment.

"That's not a safe approach; a hasty attack isn't a safe option."

Norton didn't argue. He didn't want to go to war either. Now he spent his days hiding in his tent, drinking, eating meat, and exchanging pleasantries with beautiful women every night. What a comfortable and free life!

Only a fool would rush in so hastily. Besides, with reinforcements taking so long to arrive, wouldn't any such action be suicide?

So they continued to patrol near the border, sending out scouts every day to check on the elves' situation.

On the evening of the third day after the prisoners were returned, the scouts, breathless, burst into the tent of the two high-ranking officers. Norton and Lviv were staring at a newly caught goat outside the tent, discussing how to make it taste even better.

"My lord... my lord... the elf, the elf has turned into Donic!"

ha?

What?

"My lord, the flags at the elven camp have changed... When we arrived, they were already the flags of the Donic family! We... we even saw human cavalry roaming around, and... they even charged at us..."

Lviv hadn't yet grasped the meaning of the scout's words. Norton, however, had already changed his expression.

"Are you sure it's Donic's flag? You're not mistaken? Speak!" Norton abruptly grabbed the scout from the ground and shouted emotionally.

The soldier was startled by Norton's sudden imposing manner and stammered, "No... that's right, the yellow scale pattern of the Donic family... I think it's good."

Norton let go, his gaze wandering around, yet seemingly not looking at anything at all.

Lviv still couldn't figure out what else could have excited Norton so much besides the fact that the elves had retreated and he could go home.

“Lviv, we have to take it, we have to take it, or we’re both finished, you…” But Norton stopped talking when he saw Lviv’s blank and incredulous look.

"Lviv, don't you understand? The land belonging to the Lunlang family now belongs to the Donic family!!"