I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Chapter 188 Military Discussion

J.S. Ka had no idea that Oda would bring a distinguished duke.

He had certainly heard of the Duke of Görlitz.

However, he had only heard of the previous Duke of Görlitz.

At this time, Jan Hus himself was just a priest in Prague, and Jesse was not yet the Hus war god who fought for the common people and faith, but rather the brother of the Marquis of Moravia and a mercenary captain under Prokop.

The reason he appeared in the Troski region was because Prokop was Wenceslaus's staunchest supporter, which is why he wanted to conduct behind-enemy-lines operations in the territory of Wenceslaus's enemy, Sigismund's ally, the Lords' Alliance.

Although he did not know Sieg, the previous Duke of Görlitz had supported Wenceslaus, and although he was ultimately killed by Wenceslaus, he believed that Sieg would not stoop to colluding with Sigismund.

"Put away your doubts, Captain Jake."

Hans Capon picked up the glass of cheap ale on the table and took a sip as if he were savoring a royal wine.

"If you think that the person standing in front of you is just a young nobleman who has inherited a distinguished family name, then you are very wrong."

"Because just a few days ago, at the foot of the walls of Skarlitz, it was this very Duke who personally taught Sigismund, the usurper, a lesson he would never forget."

Then, young lord Capon vividly recounted how Sigismund's three thousand troops suffered a crushing defeat outside the city of Skalitz.

That very night, our young master Kapong was actually in the bathhouse in Rattay, yet he spoke as if he had a god's-eye view.

After Young Master Capone finished speaking, the tent fell into a deathly silence.

J.S. Kasper stared intently at Zieg.

Having spent half his life fighting on the battlefield, he naturally understood better than anyone what a mutiny meant, and he also understood better than anyone what terrifying courage and methods it would take to induce the collapse of three thousand people by himself.

"It's not over yet."

Hans Capon clearly enjoyed the shocked look on Jessica's face. He straightened his chest and continued to drop bombshells: "Lord Raddy of Skarlitz, Lord Davis of Talmuburg, and my hot-tempered uncle, Lord Hannash, now all three banners have come together under His Highness Sieg's command."

"On this land torn apart by war, the will of the royalists has never been so firm and unified."

These words were like a clap of thunder in spring, completely shattering the last line of defense in Jessica's heart.

His previously taut, iron-like shoulders relaxed, and for the first time, a genuine smile appeared on his cold, hard face.

His extremely rugged smile.

"Ha! Hahahaha!"

Jessica tilted her head back and let out a loud laugh that shook the dust off the tent ceiling.

"Great! Excellent!"

"Since you beat that bastard Sigismund to a pulp—that means we're on the same side!"

For Jesse, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, especially when this friend possesses such formidable strength and legitimate status.

He had been sent deep behind enemy lines on Lord Prokop's orders to cause trouble for Sigismund, and what the duke was doing was simply the best gift God could send.

As the laughter subsided, Jesse turned his gaze back to Zieg.

This time, his eyes held less scrutiny and more expectation and eagerness as an ally.

He was a pragmatic soldier. Now that the sides had been decided, the next thing to discuss was how to fight.

"Your Highness, now that you have united Skalitz, Talmuburg, and Latai into one force, I think your trip to Trossky this time is definitely not for sightseeing."

Jessica stood up from her chair, her tall frame casting a huge shadow in the firelight.

He walked up to Sieg, his eyes gleaming with a belligerent light: "How do you plan to deal with von Polgao? Are you going to launch a full-scale assault on that tortoise shell of Troski Castle? That won't be easy. But since you're here, I suppose—your army should already be in the nearby forest, right?"

Jessica rubbed her hands together, her voice tinged with barely concealed excitement: "How many people did you bring? Five hundred? Or a thousand?"

Faced with Jesscare's hopeful inquiry, Sieg gazed at the mercenary captain, who was eager for war: "Sigismund may have suffered a defeat, but his greedy eyes are still fixed on the silver mines of Skaritz. That is our foundation, and we cannot afford to lose it."

"To prevent those Hungarians from returning, and to hold our last line of defense, I did not move a single main force from Skalitz, Talmuburg, and Rattay."

At this point, Zieg paused for a moment, then gave the answer that made Jesska's smile freeze, in an unusually calm, even relaxed tone: "Besides Young Master Capon of Rattay, I only brought a dozen or so riders."

The ecstasy on Jessica's face faded quickly, like a campfire doused with cold water, leaving only wisps of helpless smoke.

He slumped back into the chair with a loud creak that made your teeth ache.

He rubbed his temples in frustration, and his once straight back hunched over.

Disappointed?

That's for sure.

For a mercenary captain who is isolated behind enemy lines and leads dozens of brothers to live a life of hardship in the forest, the psychological gap of learning that the savior he thought he had was actually a lone commander is enough to make him want to curse.

But J.J. Ka is not the kind of reckless man who acts solely on emotions.

As a soldier who had fought his way through countless battles, he quickly understood Sieg's choice after a brief period of frustration.

Skarlitz is the foundation, the miraculous place that left Sigismund battered and bruised.

There are silver mines there, and newly established prestige. It would be truly foolish to allow our main base to be destroyed because of the division of troops at Trotsky.

If he were in Zieg's position, he would probably make the same cruel but rational decision—to defend Skalitz to the death, even if it meant abandoning Trossky.

"Very well, Your Highness. Your frankness, though frustrating, also proves that you are a clear-headed commander."

J.S. Kassler let out a long sigh.

"Since there's no large army pressing in, we need to find a new way to live."

"I had been hoping to raise your banner and intimidate those fence-sitters in the area. But it seems that the Duke of Görlitz's banner cannot be raised for the time being."

"Otherwise, once that mad dog von Polgao finds out that you only have these few people around you, he will do anything to turn this forest upside down like a madman."

Zieg wasn't embarrassed by J.S. Kass's disappointment.

His expression was as calm as if he were chatting with an old friend.

"Jeska, although I didn't bring thousands of spears, that doesn't mean we can't make von Polgar bleed."

"On the contrary, it is precisely because of these people that we can do things that large legions cannot. For example, helping you capture a strong fortress that can provide shelter from the wind and rain."

Jesska paused for a moment, then frowned: "You mean—attack a certain outpost? That kind of place can't hold so many of my brothers."

"No, it's not a sentry post."

Zieg smiled slightly, his gaze passing over Jesska and landing on Oda standing to the side, his tone carrying a sense of confidence that he was in control of the situation: "I'm talking about the Nebakov fortress."

Upon hearing this name, a glint of hatred and longing suddenly flashed in Aoda's eyes, who had remained silent until then.

J.S. Ka looked surprised.

He looked at the young duke in disbelief.

"You—how do you know about that place? It's a source of great anxiety for Auda, and a key point in von Polgar's control of this area. You've only been in Trossky for less than a day; you haven't even finished surveying the terrain, have you?"

Zieg smiled.

"The outcome of a war is often determined before the sword is even drawn."

"Once that fortress changes hands, J.S.K., you will have a solid stronghold that you can attack or defend. It's like a fishbone stuck in von Polgar's throat, cutting off his control over the surrounding villages while giving this guerrilla force a real foothold."

"This is tantamount to ripping a piece of flesh out of Von Polgar right under his nose."