Volume Two: The Iron-Blooded Baron Chapter 125: Pirates Come from the Sea (11)

Drowsily awakened by the commotion, Belyon leapt out of bed upon hearing the news. Hastily grabbing Best, he asked, “How many of those swine-like invaders are there? Where are they now? How long until they reach Norlandenburg?”

Best, caught off guard by Belyon’s rapid-fire questions, scratched his head and smiled awkwardly. “I only know there are roughly two hundred ships of various sizes. The scout sent by Barin to deliver the message is in the study—I brought him here directly and haven’t had time to inquire thoroughly.”

Pulling on a garment as he moved, Belyon strode to the study. After hearing the scout’s report, he and Best formed a rough estimate of their adversaries’ strength.

The invading Tobar pirates numbered over two hundred vessels, with more than half being small to medium ships. This suggested an enemy force of around fifteen hundred men. When the scout arrived with his report, they were near Raven’s Ridge. Though progress was slow against wind and current, they were expected to reach the confluence of the Karl River and Forest Lake by noon at the latest.

After listening, Belyon opened the study window, stepping into the cool autumn breeze clad only in a thin robe. The fresh air and chill roused him from his sleep deprivation. Taking a deep breath, he ordered, “Send for Mark. We must prepare to retreat. With so many enemies, holding our ground will only lead to ruin. Follow Plan B—prepare for withdrawal.”

“The pirates have few horses. Women, children, and supplies can flee swiftly by carriage; the able-bodied can run. The pirates won’t catch them. We must take our own belongings and slip into the Elk Forest to lie in ambush.”

Once the orders were given and Best and the scout had left, Belyon slumped into the study’s soft chair. He longed for fewer enemies—then he wouldn’t have to abandon the newly built castle and village to these savage Tobar pirates. But reality was harsh. Even if the Windpeak could hold the pirates, the castle was limited in capacity, and most civilians couldn’t take refuge there. Was he to let the pirates massacre his people like other lords before him?

Belyon could not allow that. Whether in a past life or in this world, his principles forbade such cruelty.

Time passed indistinctly until the knock on the door roused him. Hoarsely, he said, “Enter.”

Mark and Best came in—his trusted lieutenants. Mark sat before him and whispered, “Luckily, we prepared contingency plans beforehand. Otherwise, an emergency retreat now would be impossible. I estimate we have about an hour to pack and set out.”

Belyon nodded, forcing a bitter smile. “After all this toil for a year, it ends in nothing. Don’t you feel disheartened?”

“Master, how could you say that? In this year, we forged an elite force of a hundred soldiers, cultivated fields, built villages and a castle. That is hardly nothing. Once the pirates retreat, we’ll reclaim all,” Best comforted.

Mark added, “My lord, you taught us not to fear breaking a few pots and pans but to think big-picture, not small. We must look to the future.”

Before they could soothe Belyon further, the study door was flung open abruptly. Though the newcomer’s face was not yet clear, his voice boomed: “Master, we cannot retreat! Absolutely not! The Tobar pirates have split their forces; only five or six hundred are advancing toward Forest Lake!”

Belyon’s eyes brightened instantly. “Barin, sit down and tell me everything.”

It was Barin, the scout leader, arriving breathless to report. He grabbed water from the tea table, gulped deeply, wiped his mouth, and began: “Master, to better understand the pirates’ movements, I disguised myself and crawled close to their shore where they stopped to rest—pirates need breakfast too.

“I speak Newgar, and overheard several pirate leaders talking. I learned of their plan to divide forces. To confirm, I shifted to two other locations and heard the same news.

“The Tobar pirates are splitting into two groups. Their leader, Count Kaled, leads a thousand men to advance, landing at Riverside Town to assault Amondein City. They intend to capture Amondein and slaughter its people in revenge for the Maple Leaf Manor incident.

“Meanwhile, one of Kaled’s three wolf lords, Assedan, commands five hundred men to attack Norlandenburg, seeking to massacre the town as vengeance for the pirates we killed.

“When the scout reported this morning, I anticipated you might order a retreat due to the large enemy numbers. So upon learning of the division, I rode hard to inform you. There’s no need to retreat now—at Norlandenburg, we will wipe these Tobar wild dogs out!”

The room erupted in cheers. Belyon embraced Barin, punching his shoulder with a smile. “Wonderful, brother Barin. You don’t know how long I felt sorrow after ordering that retreat.”

Barin laughed heartily. “Master, I feared as much. After verifying the situation, I hurried back. The journey nearly killed me.”

They all laughed together.

When the laughter subsided, Belyon commanded: “Mark, halt the withdrawal immediately. Everyone must take their assigned positions in the palisades or castle. Anyone disobeying will be executed on the spot.”

“Yes, my lord!” Mark hurried out to issue the orders, telling his men to stop packing and prepare to defend against the pirate assault.

In the study, Belyon turned to Best and Barin. “We will proceed according to Plan A. Brother Barin, continue your reconnaissance on Assedan’s forces. Also, send a rider to Amondein City to alert Viscount Melly, Sir Pipin, and my uncle so they can prepare.”

Barin clenched his fist over his chest. “I will not fail, my lord!” With that, he departed.

After confirming some details with Belyon, Best left swiftly, burdened with tasks as the commander before the looming battle.

Once alone, Belyon stood at the window, gazing toward the Elk Forest, lost in thought.

Admittedly, despite his efforts to prepare, the reality of war unsettled him. His will faltered; after ordering the retreat, he had hidden away, brooding like a woman. His battlefield intelligence was incomplete—he should have awaited further reports before deciding. When he first heard of fifteen hundred pirates, fear gripped him, prompting the hasty retreat and needless turmoil for his troops and civilians.

But war is cruel and unpredictable—not like the triumphant tales of his past life. It is a contest of strength and luck; no commander wins every fight.

Now Belyon understood why, in the great battles he had seen in films of his former world, generals were always fixated on intelligence, hesitating to commit fully before battle. The battlefield shifts quickly; the enemy never fights as expected.

A capable commander must gather thorough intelligence and, after careful deliberation, devise an accurate plan before committing troops.

Before battle, hesitation is allowed; once engaged, a commander must stay vigilant, reacting swiftly and wisely to changing situations. One misstep can mean total defeat.

This painful lesson marked Belyon’s growth. He now had full confidence in defeating these Tobar pirates, having crafted a near-perfect strategy. For the five hundred pirates approaching, what awaited was a journey from heaven to hell.

Meanwhile, on the Karl River, Count Kaled led his fleet grandly toward Riverside Town. There, Belyon’s old rival, Sir Sorg, had already conspired with the pirate leader. He was willing to surrender and swear fealty to Kaled, so long as Kaled helped him eliminate Belyon, Viscount Melly, and others who had humiliated him.

After his defeat at the Yangviksho tournament, Sir Sorg was crippled. Once a knight renowned across the Duchy of Brick for his martial skill, being reduced to a cripple had shattered him utterly. His hatred for Belyon blinded him completely.

Following the advice of spies sent by the Valendi, Sorg abandoned his knighthood and allegiance to the Duchy of Brick, pledging loyalty to Count Kaled as a new wolf lord. After the war, he planned to settle on Tobar Island with the pirates.

Sorg’s betrayal was fueled not only by hatred for Belyon—though that was primary—but also by personal tragedy. His wife and son had abandoned him, ashamed of his lost honor. Moreover, the northern Brick people who once idolized him had turned against him after learning of his disgrace at Yangviksho.

Where once they exalted him like a war god, now their contempt was as strong as disdain for a pile of filth.

Defeated in career, broken in body, forsaken by family, and scorned by society, the once proud nobleman Sorg had grown deeply bitter. His sole drive was revenge, vowing to kill everyone who caused him pain, even his own wife and child.

Thus, he eagerly aided the Tobar pirates, guiding their brutal raids against his former subjects, friends, and loved ones.

More than that, he recruited a band of vicious bandits displaced by Belyon’s anti-bandit campaigns. These ruthless men joined the pirates in pillaging and slaughter, their cruelty and bloodshed fueling Sorg’s dark satisfaction.

On the other front, Assedan, one of Count Kaled’s wolf lords, though not as personally vendetta-driven as Sorg, bore a deep grudge against Belyon. The pirate leader Hamm, slain by Belyon’s forces at Maple Leaf Manor, was Assedan’s youngest son—a beloved child most like himself.

Because Hamm lacked inheritance rights, Assedan had secured him this opportunity to earn great merit, hoping to win further favor from Count Kaled and obtain a fief. This would have been a father’s final gift to his son.

But to Assedan’s shock, Hamm was brutally slain by the Brick people, pierced by a volley of arrows, and his corpse hung outside Amondein City, pecked at by crows.

Whenever he thought of this, Assedan wept bitterly. Belyon was the chief enemy responsible for his son’s death. He swore to use Belyon’s skull as a bowl.

The stage was set; the storm of war was about to break.