Arthur did not linger long in this small castle, nor did he leave anyone to guard it. He merely wanted to take everything that could be taken from his current furthest controlled area. Soon, after the Legge Family's vassal lords had picked clean the Legge Family's assets, they would turn on him, the one who had benefited the most and had a legitimate reason for war.
He led six hundred soldiers, like a pack of wolves that had smelled blood, and set off again to hunt down their wounded prey.
Another small Knight's castle appeared on the horizon, belonging to a Knight named Gaisite. He had chosen to surrender directly when Arthur led his army to attack Willow Wood City and the main army entered the city.
Though the castle was small, its stone walls were sturdy, its arrow towers soared high, and its banners fluttered in the wind. Guards on the walls anxiously peered towards them, gripping their long spears.
Arthur reined in his horse, signaling the troop to halt. He did not order preparations for a siege; instead, he simply had a soldier step forward: "Go, show them this."
The soldier, holding a shield, walked alone to the drawbridge. He held up the parchment sealed with a wax impression: "Sir Gaisite has surrendered to Lord Arthur in Willow Wood City! This is his letter of surrender and his seal!"
There was a stir on the castle wall. An officer, clearly an old veteran, peered out, his voice trembling: "Nonsense! This is impossible!"
The soldier placed the letter on the ground in front of the drawbridge, then retreated a few steps, shield raised: "Open it and see for yourselves!"
A basket was lowered from the wall. A guard ran over, snatched the letter, and it was pulled back up in the basket.
Moments later, a deathly silence fell upon the castle wall.
Arthur's soldiers waited quietly, their weapons glinting coldly in the morning light.
They didn't need to shout; the silence of over six hundred men was, in itself, a psychological pressure on a small castle. The iron chains of the drawbridge emitted a harsh grinding sound as it slowly lowered.
The castle gates opened wide. The defenders inside threw down their weapons and walked out dejectedly. There was no fighting, no bloodshed. A castle, thus, changed hands, plundered and emptied by Arthur's soldiers.
Arthur's voice was calm and unruffled: "Next."
The troop continued to advance, and the same scene was repeatedly played out in the time that followed.
The second, the third, the fourth...
The will to resist of the defenders of each small castle instantly crumbled upon seeing their lord's letter of surrender and token, as well as the army of six hundred men.
Arthur's promise of no slaughter, like the final straw, broke their already fragile nerves.
By dawn, all dozen or so castles belonging to the Knights who had surrendered to Arthur within the Legge Family's territory had been completely plundered without bloodshed, a speed that was chilling. The fighting will of the defenders was utterly shattered on this day by one parchment after another.
Arthur's orders were always simple and direct: "Inventory! Empty! Everything! All!"
The soldiers rushed into the castles, their eyes gleaming with greed. They were no longer mere soldiers, but more like a pack of greedy wolves, efficient ant-like porters.
Officers, holding checklists, shouted commands.
"Over there! Pack all the gold and silver ware into boxes!"
"The wheat in the granary! Not a single grain left! Load it all onto the carts!"
"Everything that can be taken! Take it all!"
"The swords and armor in the armory! Count them! Register them!"
The wealth that once belonged to the nobles was now being carried out like flowing water. Gold plates, silver cups, wine bottles, and various precious items and ornaments glittered charmingly under the sun.
Sacks of grain, barrels of salted meat, and bolts of cloth piled up like mountains.
Individually, the wealth of these Knight castles was far less than that of Willow Wood City, but the accumulation from a dozen castles still amounted to an astonishing quantity.
The soldiers watched the spoils of war pile higher and higher before their eyes, their breathing growing heavy, their eyes turning bloodshot.
Olivier followed behind Arthur, watching this frenzied scene, his eyes filled with complexity.
He was like a stingy housekeeper, pained to see his master's property about to be divided by a group of bandits.
Yet, the leader of these bandits was his own master.
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