Lark's suggestion brought forth heated discussions within the upper echelons of the capital. The King gathered his officials as they discussed the next step. In the end, the march toward the City of Yan was delayed by an entire day. The officials were torn between two choices: take back the nearby City of Yan from the Empire, or recapture the City of Yorkshaire.
"But, Your Majesty," one of the six officials gathered in the throne room raised his voice, "as we are now, we can't risk attacking the Yorkshaire Fortress! I heard the bastards from the Empire fortified the walls and laid more traps! If we allow this farce, we'll be simply sending the soldiers to their deaths!"
Three other officials nodded at these words. The remaining two, on the other hand, kept their silence.
"Lord Hais is right, Your Majesty! The best thing we could do right now is to take back the nearby City of Yan, then regroup with the scattered Marcus and Yorkshaire Army, before heading to the front lines! As we are now, it'll be impossible for us to win against the Empire!"
"Just General Rizel alone is enough to topple several cities, but there's General Alvaren too! Two monsters of the old era are currently rampaging in the Western Front right now. I doubt even the Sword Saint could win against them one-on-one!"
"Fool!" One of the officials who was silent until now finally spoke.
"?o one can possibly win against the Sword Saint in a one-on-one fight!
Have you lost your mind, Count?"
"Hah! I've lost my mind? The Sword Saint ran away from the fight!
And you still think he's the same peerless swordsman he was once before?
He's too old. ?o matter how skilled he is with the sword, he's now nothing but an old man knocking on death's door!"
"Enough!" roared the King. He coughed thrice after exerting himself from the shout.
Silence descended the throne room. One of the King's personal guards handed him a goblet. After taking a sip, the King sighed and leaned back on his throne.
"I believe that the majority of you are against this," said the King.
His usually kind smile was gone. "But I, your King, will have the final say."
King Alvis looked at each and every one of them. Although they were in clear opposition right now, King Alvis had no doubts of their loyalty toward the Kingdom.
"Alain," the King said to the only official who hadn't voiced his opinion, "you've been silent until now. Tell me, what do you think about Lark Marcus' proposal?"
Everyone looked at the official's direction. Seeing everyone's gazes, he spoke. "I also believe that it's foolish to attack Yorkshaire City right away," he said. "It'll be impossible to retake that city unless, by some miracle, we are able to enlist the help of a powerful reinforcement—at least as powerful as the magic tower. But those magicians… They will never move unless their city is directly attacked. The Empire probably knows this too. That's why they openly stated that they have no intention of antagonizing the tower."
Wizzert City was probably the safest city in the Kingdom right now.
There were rumors that once the Empire annexed the entire Kingdom, only the City of Magic would be left untouched. It seemed that the Empire did not want to risk waging war with a city full of magicians. There was also the speculation that the Emperor wanted the tower to be included among their ranks.
"How about the Royal Court Magicians?" one of the officials asked.
"They've already been dispatched to rescue Duke Kelvin's son."
The officials' faces turned sour. Due to Lancaster's capture, the entire Kelvin Duchy came up with the perfect excuse not to actively take part in this war. The King immediately gathered his officials and they eventually came up with the plan of rescuing Lancaster from General Rizel's grasp. According to their intel, the successor to the House Kelvin was currently locked up in Rock Castle, just a week away from the Kelvin Duchy.
They decided to send a team of elites—half of the Royal Court Magicians—to rescue the hostage. Hopefully, by rescuing Lancaster, they'd be able to enlist the help of the Kelvin Duchy.
"The Royal Court Magicians are no good, huh?"
The remaining half of the Royal Court Magicians were currently tasked with protecting the capital.
"Damn it. If only those bastards from the magic tower would participate in this war! Can't they see that at this rate, the Kingdom will fall to the Empire's hands?"
The King fell into contemplation, ignoring the bickering of the officials beneath his throne.
The Empire.
The magic tower.
The Royal Court Magicians.
Why hadn't he thought of it until now?
If he looked at it from a wider perspective, the answer had been there all along.
If the participation of the tower of magic alone could greatly influence the tide of war, then how much impact would it bring if the person who defeated the magicians of the tower participated?
The King's heart started pounding at this thought.
He was a fool for taking this long to realize whether Lark Marcus' proposal was right or wrong.
Finally, he spoke. "I've decided."
Everyone shut their lips and looked at the King. At the end of the day, the final decision rested on him.
"We will go along with Lark Marcus' plan. The First and Third Army shall march to Yorkshaire."
The officials looked as though they'd just been sentenced to death.
They groaned.
"But your Majesty—" "—The attack on the magic tower a few months ago…" said the King, "the unknown person who single-handedly defeated all the magicians of the magic tower."
"Does your Majesty finally have a lead on that powerful magician?"
Lord Hais almost squeaked. He was among those who adamantly searched for the identity of the perpetrator in hopes of luring him in within the ranks of the Royal Court Magicians.
The King nodded. "Yes. I've appointed him as the Commander of the Third Army just recently."
The eyes of the officials widened to the point of almost popping out.
Some of them tried to say a few words but eventually decided to shut their mouths.
"L-Lark Marcus? There… must be a mistake."
The King sighed. "I was stunned when I heard the report from Mikael too. Who would have known that the second son of Duke Drakus is capable of Grand Scale Magic?"
Grand Scale Magic.
The officials remembered the reports regarding the attack on the magic tower. A lone magician attacked the magic tower and defeated all of its magicians.
They finally realized why the King had chosen Lark Marcus as the Commander of the Third Army, and why the young man considered the option of directly attacking Yorkshaire City.
"The decision is final. Give the order for the First and Third Army to start their march."
*** After receiving the go signal, Lark gathered all the soldiers of the Third Army. Standing on top of a large mound he created using earth magic, he scanned the sea of soldiers before him. He could see the uneasiness and fear in some of them, while there were those who did not bother to hide their contempt at him, their new commander.
Lark amplified his voice with magic and said, "I am the Commander of the Third Army, Lark Marcus. I'm sure most of you've heard about me, so I'll skip the introductions. I gathered all of you here today to know one thing: Your skills, your worth. I want to know what you can do, what you can offer to this army."
He paused and looked at the soldiers gathered before him. "What we'll be going up against are soldiers of the Empire—veterans of war. An army without any coordination will never win against them.
"Therefore, before we start our march, I want this army to be divided into six groups. Light infantry, heavy infantry, cavalry, archers, scouts, and the supplies team.
"It should be fairly obvious, but those of you who are confident of your defenses should join the heavy infantry. It doesn't matter if you're wearing leather armors, as long as your magic permits you to take several blows from the army, you're qualified for the positi—" "—Hey! Why should we listen to a brat like you?" someone among the crowd interjected.
Lark smiled. Someone finally voiced their discontent.
He had expected things to go this way the moment he was elected as one of the three commanders. After all, no one in this army would like to follow a weak-looking young man like him. And there was also his notorious reputation to boot.
"Good question," Lark's eyes glimmered dangerously. "First, because I am your commander, appointed by the King himself. And second, because I'm a lot stronger than you, old man. Insubordination is a crime.
This is the last warning. I will not tolerate any more disrespect from here on out."
Lark knew that he should set the rules straight. Otherwise, he would be unable to control this massive army once they clashed with the Empire.
These guys knew him as nothing but the incompetent, disowned son of a Duke. He could see from their eyes that none of them respected nor feared him. Lark planned on rectifying this before their march.
"Stronger than me? Hah!" The soldier fearlessly retorted. "What does a noble like you know about the battlefield anyway?"
Snickers were heard here and there.
Lark knew that if he did not cull this here, it would bite him in the back later on. Although cruel, he decided to make an example out of this fool.
He pointed a finger at the man and vines sprouted from the ground, ensnaring the man's entire body. The vines shot up several dozens of meters into the air, carrying the man with it.
"W-Wha… Hey! What's happening?"
From the body of Lark, a malevolent aura started oozing out. The amount of mana was so colossal that even the non-magicians could see its torrent.
It was a wasteful display of strength, something Lark would never do on a real battlefield. But right now, he needed to show these soldiers what he was capable of. Otherwise, he would have a hard time controlling them later on. After all, these soldiers tend to follow only the strong.
"Old man, I warned you before."
Lark pointed a finger at the heavens and the torrent of energy oozing out of his body started forming a colossal ball of fire. The energy contained within started dispersing the clouds. The heat almost scorched the skins of the soldiers below.
"Why didn't you listen?"
The soldiers trembled as the gargantuan ball of fire slowly started to descend from the heavens. If that thing hits them, hundreds, if not thousands would perish on the spot, their bodies gone without a trace.
Without a doubt, this was Grand Scale Magic.
Had the soldiers not witnessed this with their own eyes, they wouldn't have believed that such a thing was possible. That a single person was capable of casting such catastrophic spell on his own.
Lark knew that casting this magic was akin to using a sledgehammer to swat a fly, but this display of strength would prove crucial to the stability of their command structure later on. If these guys followed only the strong, then he would show them peerless strength, capable of tilting the battlefield.
It was the only way to quickly control this massive army despite the infamy of the previous owner of his body.
"Fool."
With that last word as its cue, the ball of fire engulfed the man's entire body. His screams died as soon as it started. In just a few seconds, his entire body was burned to dust. Ashes fell down like rain to the ground.
And as though everything was a lie, the ball of fire dissipated and vanished entirely from sight.
Everyone who saw how the man met his end shivered. They looked at Lark and trembled even further upon seeing those ruthless eyes. Those were the eyes of someone who had taken several lives before. The buzz and murmurs immediately died. ?o one dared to make a sound.
"I'll say it one last time," Lark's eyes were predatory, "insubordination is punishable by death."
Although his speech was shorter, his words carried far greater weight than before. After all, everyone saw with their own eyes how Lark killed the man without batting an eye.
It was ruthless, but somewhere deep within them, the soldiers preferred this kind of commander. If the commander was weak, the entire army would perish. They would rather have a ruthless but strong commander than a kind but feeble leader.