Chapter 1317

Alec arrived to report the casualties from the first battle: 356 dead, 1,732 injured. The officers' mood immediately plummeted. They had been tasked with defending the city, archers stationed on the walls. Yet, even with this advantage, the Sandorians had deployed siege ladders and hurled stones, inflicting heavy losses.

This wasn't a full-scale siege; the Sandorians were testing their strength and the Southern Frontier Army's cohesion. Clearly, they understood the situation, avoiding a decisive battle. They were playing a psychological game.

The Southern Frontier Army, despite low morale, would fight fiercely when their lives were threatened. However, continued probing attacks would steadily increase casualties, eventually breaking their will to fight.

Discussing battle strategies seemed pointless. Spirits were so low that another fight felt like a futile sacrifice. Military advisors had consumed nearly an entire pouch of tobacco, unable to devise a new plan. Even if the court sent reinforcements, their selection remained uncertain. For now, they could only manage the immediate crisis.

"Gather the soldiers tomorrow," a military advisor suggested. "We need a speech to rally their spirits. We can't let this continue."

Timothy rubbed his face, wiping away a mixture of dust and the blood of a soldier beside him, struck by a trebuchet stone. He felt terrible.

"A stirring speech won't matter," he said. "The marshal is gone, and no replacement named. Everyone believes the Hell Monarch is dead. Unless he appears, troop morale will continue to falter, and hatred of the court will grow."

Louis took Alec's empty pipe, setting it aside. "Another problem," he added, "is the collapse of morale after Mr. Prince's escape. Soldiers believe victory is impossible, that battle means certain death. Continued small-scale assaults will crush their morale completely. Soon, the Southern Frontier will fall."

Timothy hesitated, glancing at Louis. "Do you think His Highness—"

Zachary looked up, fury in his eyes. "Don't ask. If His Highness were alive, he would have sent word. There's been nothing."

Louis paused, then shook his head. "We shouldn't be so pessimistic. His Majesty can't believe His Highness is a traitor. They're brothers."

The advisors, though far from the Southern Frontier, understood Salvador's temperament well. He had never truly trusted anyone—not even Jeremiah, whom he had once desperately tried to retain in court. Over the years, he had systematically weakened the court officials' power. He didn't need Jeremiah's advice; Jeremiah merely maintained the illusion of control, keeping scheming nobles at bay while Salvador consolidated his power.

The next day, Louis and Timothy assembled the Southern Frontier, Hell Monarch, and Sinclair armies. The mass of soldiers on the training field seemed as dense as before. But a closer look revealed the difference. Where once every soldier had stood tall, their eyes sharp and voices thundering, now disappointment and confusion reigned. Their fighting spirit was gone.

Timothy, on horseback, passionately recounted past victories, promising to crush the Sandorians. His voice was hoarse, but the cheers were lacking, only a few scattered, weak shouts.

Louis, consumed by frustration, mounted his horse. "Pull yourselves together! What is this pitiful display? Are you still the undefeated Southern Frontier Army, or have you forgotten who you are?"

A soldier shouted, "General Quinton, did Marshal Sanford truly die at the king's hands?"

Others followed, their questions escalating into a chorus of anger and accusations against Salvador.

"Why fight when loyal generals meet such a fate? We should disperse and go home!"

"Marshal Sanford risked his life for us! Why this tragic end?"

"Was Commander Sinclair also killed? The court must explain!"

"We demand an explanation! Why were they killed?"

The roar of fury filled the air. The officers were momentarily speechless.

Amidst the shouts, galloping hooves approached, accompanied by a familiar, commanding voice. "Let me see for myself if the soldiers under my command are still as brave and capable as they once were!"