Winterfell is the most important city in the northwest of the Kingdom of Stuarts, with nearly a million inhabitants and tens of thousands of elite garrisons. The fortifications that have been in operation for a long time are very strong, and the thriving market has attracted many mages to settle down.

Siege warfare has always been a hard job, and it's not a trivial task with a town like Chakesh. To attack a large city like Winterfell, the minimum requirements are to have absolute control in the surrounding area, to have enough knowledge of the enemy's movements, and to be prepared for a long period of time.

In other words, you have to have an advantage, and an overwhelming advantage.

War is not child's play, and its existence and development have their objectivity, which is not subject to anyone's will.

The Pompeii expeditionary force had not been in Stuart for a long time. Judging by past experience, this should still be in the stage of mutual testing. After all, they are all first-class powers on the mainland, and there are still three pounds of nails in the rotten ship, even if they are at a disadvantage, they will never be reduced to being slaughtered by others.

But judging from the battle reports sent from the rear, this time the entire Stuart reacted to Pompey's attack surprisingly slowly. So far, there has not been a single 10,000-person war.

The largest battle was fought by a few Stuart legions and lords' private armies, and they were quickly and easily defeated in the face of Pompeii's army, which had superior strength and command. Like a pebble falling into the waves, it failed to stir up half a wave.

The griffin ambition planted in the hands of the lord a few days ago is already the strongest among them.

To be honest, it's so easy that it doesn't look like a national war, but more like an armed parade. Small towns were occupied one after another, regular armies were wiped out one after another, and large swathes of the country fell into Pompeii's hands.

This is no longer explained by the phrase "luring the enemy deep", and it is impossible for the craziest commander to do it to this extent.

In the end, only a few large cities remained in front of Pompeii, and the defenders could not shrink from them. That's why they started preparing to attack Winterfell so quickly - it was a safer choice to take the city that still had the ability to resist than to continue to rush through and take it.

Pompeii's military operations were undoubtedly going well, but the question is, how could they be so smooth?

Where have the regular army of hundreds of legions gone? Where have the dragon knights and mages gone? Even if Stuart's strength has declined in recent years, it will definitely not fall to this point.

His Majesty the Mad King Beruni's casual disrupting of the command must have been one of the reasons, but it is unlikely that it was the whole cause.

What the hell is going on - Richard must admit that he has not figured it out either, there is not enough information at the moment.

............

Three days later, the main forces of the corps rushed to the town of Chakesh.

From the spirit of their march, the neat procession, the high morale, and the loud slogans, Richard could see only one thing—they certainly hadn't fought much, and at most some small battles were not worth mentioning.

Buster's subordinates had seen blood—all bearded and untidy. But looking at people is all hanging eyes, eyes only wandering around the neck and chest, ready to move at any time.

He looks at other people, and other people look at him.

Whenever his gaze met, the lord noticed that some people would show a subtle look of disdain and envy, and most of them would immediately turn away. She was so shy that she looked like a country girl who had never seen the world, which made Richard think that she had mud on her face.

There were also some young knights who looked at him very warmly, and if it weren't for the military discipline constraints, they would probably run over directly, making Richard think that he had gold coins on his face.

But he didn't even have a single stubble on his face, which he had just shaved this morning, and it was clean.

"They're jealous of you, Eagle Knight. Bédrick rolled his eyes and said boredly.

"Because I'm handsome?" Richard touched his face, feeling good about himself.

"Fart, jealous of your reputation, your exploits! you were the one who defeated the Blood Knight, you were the one who won the first victory, and you were the one who captured the Legion Flag!" Bédric reached out and patted Richard on the shoulder, shaking his head for a while.

Although it is already in a state of war, the situation is as calm as a windless lake. Not to mention the battles of the Great Army, there are only a handful of skirmishes.

As a result, the entire expeditionary force was facing the embarrassing situation of having no battle to fight, and the Pompeii soldiers who were eager for military success were like chicks waiting to be fed, but they were not satisfied at all.

If you insist on pulling generals among the dwarves, the lord of Alpine Fort is almost the only candidate. What's more, his record is full of gold, and it is difficult for even the most picky person to continue to be demanding - he only led a few hundred men to break through a town held by an entire Stuart Legion and dozens of Blood Knights, and his own losses were surprisingly small.

"You're already a celebrity, and many young knights are using you as an example. Bederick shrugged exaggeratedly, "To be honest, I can't help but admire you a little." ”

"Oh, then I can sign your name. Richard pulled out a booger and bounced off his fingers.

A group of passing light cavalry was originally staring intently at the idol in their hearts, but when they saw this scene, they were immediately disillusioned and walked away in despair.

"Don't get complacent. Béderick looked left and right and saw that there were no outsiders nearby, and then he smiled and whispered: "No one can stand the limelight, and you are all occupied by yourself, and when you turn back into the legion, you are 100% excluded by others." The early ones will rot first, understand?"

"That's a wooden axle, can it rot if you change it for pure gold?" a sneer erupted from the lord's nose, "Whoever wants to try it, then try it." ”

He doesn't have much interest in things like infighting, but only if it doesn't provoke him. If someone had to be blind, Richard didn't mind teaching them a lesson he would never forget.

After all, if there is no lesson, how can you grow.

"Awesome!" said Berderick, giving a firm thumbs up. No matter how you look at this, Richard has the kind of ruthlessness that spits and nails.

"I'm wondering if appearing at this moment will disturb the interest of the two of you. Suffolk's voice came from behind.

He may not know the word Corporal Lixian, but he must understand something similar. The dignified Captain of the Dragon's Claw Legion took the initiative to come over and talk to the two nominal subordinates, which was undoubtedly a great honor.

"Ahem. Béderick's face calmed down in an instant, and when he turned around, he was already a decent aristocratic demeanor, and responded with the most authentic royal tone, "My lord, you are too polite." ”

This tone has always been considered graceful, but in Richard's words, it is like an adolescent voice change.

The lord turned his head, and before he could greet Suffolk, his eyes were first drawn to the man who was following the Legion Leader.

He couldn't help but gasp, and reached out and rubbed two handfuls hard before he dared to believe his eyes.