The castle at Derek's feet was named Birch Castle.
This military fortress was built by the Holy Cross Kingdom, completely stripped of any extraneous facilities and constructed solely for military purposes. Towers, walls, parapets—everything was there, purposefully designed for warfare.
Derek speculated that the original purpose of this castle was to guard against the threat posed by the Lock Kingdom. Even if Saint Mililan Province fell, retreating forces could regroup here, using it as a bulwark against the enemy's advance and a potential base for a counterattack. From a geographical standpoint, Birch Castle provided access to any town within Saint Mililan Province.
Ironically, this powerful tool of war had now fallen into the hands of the Rock Kingdom, turning it into a nightmare for the Holy Cross Kingdom. Derek took full advantage of the limited time he had, repairing the fortress while training his soldiers. Fortunately, with the aid of the interface, he was able to train qualified troops in just over a month.
Then, as the weather turned colder, the Holy Cross Kingdom's scouts began to appear in large numbers around Birch Castle. Derek immediately ordered his troops to assemble but had no intention of engaging them in open battle. This was destined to be a static defense, a battle where strategy held little importance. For the other Rock nobles, failure meant retreat and a second chance. But for Derek, there was no fallback option. He had taken much and occupied many lands; during his peak, no one dared oppose him. However, once he lost his territory, he knew trouble would follow swiftly.
Yet, Derek couldn't abandon such a golden opportunity. In his mind, the chances of winning were quite high. Conflict always offended someone, so why not strike when the cost was minimal? No matter how many troops the Holy Cross Kingdom sent, he was determined to hold Birch Castle. If the castle remained standing, the Holy Cross Kingdom's forces would be unable to wreak significant havoc. Dispatching small forces past Birch Castle would be suicidal, and sending large armies without securing the castle first would result in Derek cutting off their rear guard and decimating the guarding troops.
Thus, he resolved to become a thorn in their side, turning the battlefield into a brutal grinder, forcing the Holy Cross Kingdom's army to retreat in a bloody mess. Derek knew this would cost countless lives, but he also understood that many would die for his ambitions—this was only the beginning. His only solace was that he could minimize the losses and ensure better posthumous treatment for those who perished.
Standing atop the tower, Derek watched a cloud of dust rising in the distance. The Holy Cross Kingdom's forces had arrived—flags representing various knights flew high, while raggedly dressed serf soldiers trudged along behind, their heavy steps betraying their fatigue. Derek did not relax. While the serf soldiers of the Holy Cross Kingdom were notorious for their poor combat skills, they were equally infamous for their cheapness. Despite the Rock Kingdom smuggling slaves into the Holy Cross Kingdom, the high-quality serfs that made it across the border belonged to nobles and clergy, prized as private property.
In contrast, the pitiful sight before him consisted of peasants rounded up randomly—free citizens or royal slaves treated with utter contempt and forced into service as serf soldiers. Derek knew that sometimes, these numb and beaten-down soldiers could prove just as troublesome as elite troops.
Soon enough, he witnessed firsthand the brutality of the Holy Cross Kingdom's tactics. Despite it being past noon, instead of constructing camps, their forces immediately drove the serf soldiers into an assault on Birch Castle. They barely even had a few siege ladders and were simply throwing the serfs against the walls in a reckless attack.
"Savage!" Simon, who was standing beside Derek, remarked. As ruthless as Simon was, even he found the cruelty of the Holy Cross Kingdom's nobles shocking.
"They're all money to me," Derek muttered, shaking his head. To the Holy Cross Kingdom, these serfs were nothing more than expendable cannon fodder. But to Derek, they represented walking piles of gold. Unfortunately, he had to destroy this treasure with his own hands. That brief moment of pity was not enough to shake Derek's resolve.
He watched with cold detachment as his soldiers, under the command of their officers, slaughtered the attacking serfs. The Holy Cross Kingdom's nobles might be corrupt, but they were no fools. Driving the serf soldiers was not a senseless act of cruelty—it was a calculated attempt to probe Birch Castle's defenses. If Derek showed any weaknesses, a more concentrated and serious attack would follow.
However, they were disappointed. No matter which direction they tested, Birch Castle showed no flaws. Soon after, the main forces of the Holy Cross Kingdom began to arrive, setting up camp as cavalry escorted a group of individuals to inspect the front lines. For commanders in this era of cold steel, relying solely on reports from subordinates when making decisions was often a fatal mistake. Only by personally scouting the terrain and the battlefield could a commander make relatively accurate judgments.
"Relatively" being the operative word; oversights were common. If the enemy exploited one, it could lead to a defeat worthy of being recorded in the history books.
Seeing the situation unfolding, Simon grew restless. "My lord, should I lead a charge?"
Now that the cavalry forces had expanded, Simon believed they were close enough to launch a surprise attack.
"If you want to die, go ahead," Derek scolded. "Idiot! Look carefully. There's an infantry phalanx that hasn't moved the entire time. It's there to prevent sneak attacks. These Holy Cross nobles value their lives far more than the barbarians ever did."
Simon, sheepishly lowering his head, didn't dare to breathe too loudly.
...
Meanwhile, far in the distance, the Holy Cross Kingdom's generals were also discussing Derek. Unlike the purely military structure of the Rock Kingdom, the Holy Cross Kingdom's army had its share of clergymen. Although these priests generally did not interfere with military affairs, they were extremely diligent in collecting wealth.
This particular army from the Holy Cross Kingdom was led by none other than Earl Connor Radd, known as the Sword of God. A seasoned veteran, Radd was most famous for his brutal suppression of a serf rebellion, during which he slaughtered tens of thousands, securing his place in history. His actions had even earned him the title Sword of God, bestowed upon him by the church for protecting their dominion. This support had solidified his position as an actual earl, with the full backing of the clergy.
Of course, his martial prowess could not be denied. He was an excellent general, especially when compared to other nobles who had fought alongside him during the rebellion but had fallen at the hands of the commoners.
Now, as Earl Radd observed the serf soldiers' assault, his expression grew more serious. "Have we confirmed who the commander here is?"
"It should be Feng Derek. I've heard his fief is located just behind Birch Castle."
Three months ago, if you had mentioned the name Feng Derek to the nobles of the Holy Cross Kingdom, none would have recognized it. But now... almost everyone knew who he was.
"It seems the rumors are true. This Viscount Derek didn't rise by chance. Not everyone could set up defenses this well." Earl Radd praised Derek sincerely. Mastery of the basics was the mark of true skill.
Most of the kingdom's knights lacked such fundamental abilities. The earl had a bad feeling—this upcoming battle was going to be tough.