kingnovel Chapter 701 Year-End Meeting
Chapter 701 Year-End Meeting
Inside the council chamber of the inner fortress of Rhône, everyone was immediately led to their respective seats by attendants.
Griffiths was placed in the front row because he was directly employed by the king, but since he had no title or official position, he was placed in the middle of the ranks of officers without titles.
He slightly adjusted his posture, keeping his back straight and his gaze level, ignoring the arrogant or scrutinizing stares around him.
He knew perfectly well that he was only standing there because of the king's employment contract. Without a title, even if he had made a few military achievements, in the eyes of these well-connected officers and nobles, he was nothing more than a lucky commoner mercenary.
He gripped the hilt of the sword at his waist, the cool metallic touch calming his turbulent mind slightly. He hadn't come here to argue with anyone, but to await the king's orders, to seize the opportunity that would allow him to truly establish himself.
At this moment, Count Yuris was surveying the people around him. His steps were slow, each step carrying the composure unique to nobles. His gaze swept across the faces of one officer after another, occasionally nodding slightly to the high-ranking generals.
When his gaze fell on Griffith, he paused, his expression immediately turning serious.
He looked Griffith up and down a few times, his brows furrowing involuntarily.
On the one hand, Griffith's commoner status made him seem out of place in a council hall full of nobles and orthodox officers; on the other hand, he always felt that Griffith was not as simple as he appeared to be, a commoner mercenary leader with good military talent.
Count Yuris had seen too many seemingly ordinary people who actually harbored ambitions, and Griffith's calm yet sharp eyes made him feel a strange sense of vigilance.
Griffiths noticed Count Yuris's gaze. He neither looked away nor tried to meet it; he simply maintained a level gaze.
He could guess what the count was thinking: he felt that a commoner was not worthy of standing in this position, and he doubted his motives.
Griffith sneered inwardly. He didn't care about the opinions of these nobles; he only cared about the sword in his hand and the king's attitude.
As long as the king still needs him, and as long as he can still make contributions on the battlefield, these people's suspicion and contempt will all be fleeting.
Count Yuris stared at Griffith for a few seconds, said nothing, just gave a soft hum, and continued walking forward.
His gaze returned to its usual calm, as if the momentary tension had never existed. The atmosphere in the council chamber remained quiet, save for the occasional soft rustling of footsteps by the attendants and the steady yet slightly suppressed breathing of the crowd.
Soon, King Midland, accompanied by his attendants, entered through the back door and sat on the throne.
The attendants moved very quietly, without making any unnecessary noise. The king's movements as he sat down were not particularly swift, revealing a hint of the sluggishness that comes with age. But when he raised his head and his gaze swept across the entire council chamber, all the subtle sounds vanished completely.
The king's gaze slowly swept across everyone's face, from the gray-haired veterans to young officers like Griffith, from arrogant nobles and counts to taciturn logistics officials, leaving no one out.
He knew in his heart that his health was deteriorating day by day.
I am often awakened by unknown pains at night, and sometimes it takes more than an hour to get out of bed. The weapons that I used to be able to lift easily are now difficult to even touch.
He had more and more health problems, and his eyesight was not as good as before, but whenever he saw the map of Midland's territory, the lands that had been re-flyed with the Midland flag, a surge of hot emotion would well up in his heart.
He recalled the long-cherished wishes of his predecessors, the people displaced by war, and the devastation when the iron hooves of the Yoda Empire trampled across the borders of Midland.
For so many years, Midland has been fighting and bleeding. Now, the dawn of victory is just around the corner. We are only one step away from recovering the lost lands and winning this war that has lasted for nearly a century.
If he could cross that threshold, he would become one of the greatest kings in Midland's history and leave his descendants a complete and powerful nation.
The king remained silent for a moment, letting the atmosphere of satisfaction slowly spread in the council hall until everyone could feel his emotions, before he finally spoke.
"I've gathered everyone here today for no other reason than this."
His voice wasn't loud.
“You all did a great job this past year.”
His gaze swept over the crowd again, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration.
"Mitland's current situation, its ability to defeat the Yoda Empire's army and reclaim lost territory after territory, is not due to me, the one sitting on the throne, but to you, to the swords in your hands, the shields on your shoulders, and the courage in your hearts."
The people below straightened their backs, their eyes filled with excitement and pride.
"Therefore, I would like to say thank you to each and every one of you here."
The king nodded slightly, a simple gesture that made the soldiers below even more excited.
The council chamber was silent for a few seconds, then a suppressed, respectful murmur arose.
A young officer beside Griffith had his cheeks flushed red and his hands clasped tightly together; it was clear that the king's words had struck a chord with him.
The king raised his hand and gently pressed it down, and the murmurs immediately ceased.
"I won't go into too much detail, but I will not forget your merits on the battlefield, and I will reward you with every penny you deserve."
He changed the subject and his tone became serious.
"But this is not the time to celebrate. The remnants of the Yoda Empire are still entrenched in the north, and Governor-General Dordore is still waiting for us to reclaim them. This war is not over yet."
His gaze swept through the crowd and quickly settled on General Laban standing in the front row.
"Laban".
Upon hearing his name called, General Laban immediately stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and spoke in a deep voice:
"The minister is here."
The king looked at him, his eyes filled with trust and expectation:
"After we recaptured Rona territory, the remnants of Yoda in the north became an isolated force and completely lost contact with Yoda's main force in the south."
He paused, then added:
"They are now caught between Heldran and our Midland, with no way forward and no reinforcements, and their supplies won't last much longer."
General Laban raised his head, his tone calm:
"Your Majesty is right. The morale of that remnant force is now low, and many soldiers are thinking of deserting. This is the best time to deal with them."
"Yes."
The king nodded, his tone resolute.
"I will allocate half of the army to you. You shall immediately lead them north."
His gaze sharpened.
"Your mission is to completely eliminate these remnants, leaving no one alive. Do not give them any chance to breathe, do not allow them any opportunity to contact Yoda, and do not allow them any chance to escape back to the Yoda Empire through the neutral country of Heldran. You must clear away the obstacles in the north as quickly as possible and completely stabilize the northern border of Midland."
General Laban showed no hesitation, his voice firm and resolute:
"Your Majesty, I will certainly live up to your expectations."
The king nodded in satisfaction, signaling General Laban to rise, and then turned his gaze to the rest of the group.
"After General Laban heads north, the remaining troops shall immediately begin reorganization today."
"Take stock of provisions, inspect weapons, replenish troops, and complete all preparations before next spring."
Griffith's heart skipped a beat; he knew the most crucial moment had arrived.
He could feel that everyone around him was breathing rapidly, and that their eyes were sparkling with excitement and anticipation.
The king stood up, looked intently at the crowd, and said, word by word:
"Next spring, I will lead the new army to join you. At that time, we will launch a general offensive, and our target will be Governor-General Dordore."
This statement was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples throughout the council chamber.
Griffiths clenched his fists even tighter, his nails almost digging into his palms.
The Dordore Governorate was an important stronghold of the Yoda Empire on the border. Its walls were high and sturdy, and its garrison was well-equipped. The former kings of Midland had sent troops to attack it many times, but all their attempts ended in failure.
Now, the king will lead them to conquer this city and accomplish the goals that the former kings of Midland could not achieve.
"This war has lasted for a full hundred years."
The king's voice carried a hint of emotion, yet was full of power.
"In the past hundred years, we have lost too much land and too many loved ones."
"Next year, we must conquer Governor-General Dordore in one fell swoop, we must win this war, and we must end this century-long battle."
After he finished speaking, the council chamber was silent for a moment, then erupted in a deafening shout.
"I will obey His Majesty's will!"
"Conquer Dordore!"
"End the war!"
Griffiths also stood up and joined the others in shouting.
His voice was drowned out by the roar of the crowd, but a raging fire burned in his heart.
He looked at the king on the throne and at the passionate soldiers around him, and knew that his chance had truly come.
The great battle next spring will be a turning point in his life. He must carve out his own place in that war.
Looking at the enthusiastic crowd below, the king once again smiled with satisfaction.
As long as these soldiers are here, as long as this determination remains, victory next year will surely belong to Midland.