Capítulo 1512: Chapter 59: Siege (29)
“No matter how special your status is, you are still a soldier, a soldier in the combat sequence.
“I don’t recall giving you the order ‘come to the front line,’ Major Montaigne.” Gessa’s tone was not only stern but even somewhat aggressive, “So, what are you doing at Kingsfort?”
Inside the central army tent, the atmosphere of relaxed conversation among the older generation was instantly emptied, becoming grim and tense.
Gessa Adonis was no longer speaking as a friend or a senior but as a superior and the highest military authority.
The anger was the same, but Gessa’s fury was no longer the feigned anger when complaining about Winters not meeting him first; it carried a genuine fire.
Yet, beneath the surging waves of anger, Winters captured a fleeting thread of negative emotion.
Sorrow? Disappointment? Fatigue? It was difficult to distinguish.
Winters could understand why Gessa would have such a strong stress response, because Gessa was not just asking, “Why are you here?”
He was also asking, “Who wanted you to come?”
And furthermore, “Are you all joining hands against me?”
Because the one who urgently summoned Winters back was not Gessa Adonis, but Skur Meklen.
“During your time at Kingsfort, the United Provincials’ fleet has become increasingly active,” Winters weighed his words, not directly answering the question, but starting with river defense, “They are no longer satisfied with blocking the Ashen Stream River route, but have begun harassing coastal ports. Even Green Bay and Rockport, those inland wharves, have seen fishermen witness unfamiliar ships measuring water depth…”
“Do you need to tell me this?” Gessa frowned, picked up the whip from the map table, and knocked heavily on the file box behind, “Do you think Skur only sends letters to you and doesn’t report to me?”
“You surely know more quickly and comprehensively about things in the rear than I do,” Winters first affirmed Gessa, then changed the topic sharply, “But our views on the movements of the United Province’s fleet might have some disagreements.”
“Oh, is that so?” Gessa grinned, making the scars covering half his face even more hideous. He asked agreeably, “What kind of disagreement?”
Winters replied frankly and righteously, “I do not agree with your opinion that the United Province’s fleet’s actions are ‘only doing little tricks to hold back our forces.’ I support Brigadier General Skur’s judgment. I believe the fleet’s activity is likely a precursor to an attack.”
“I understand,” Gessa raised his chin, with a cold smile, “Skur, that blockhead, couldn’t twist me, so he found you back.”
Gessa spread his hands, “What’s next? Get rid of me? Skur and Magash only have two votes, not enough. But add your two votes, and you can do whatever you want.”
Winters heard this, his brows knitted into a knot. He stared at Gessa Adonis, examining him up and down, saying nothing.
Gessa was irritated by the gaze, and sharply asked, “What are you looking at? Don’t recognize me?”
“Indeed, a bit unfamiliar,” Winters disdainfully moved the army chair back a bit and asked incredulously, “How many days have you been the top hand? Already grown scales?”
Originally full of fury, Gessa was primed for a big quarrel, but he couldn’t understand what Winters meant after thinking for a long time. He could only pinch his nose, asking fiercely, “What do you mean?”
Winters was too lazy to explain. He straightforwardly told the Chairman of the Provisional Military Committee: “No one is secretly contacting others, no one is forming small groups, and no one wants to oust the old man—please be at ease. We are not United Provincials, with a coup obsession.”
Gessa first froze, then furiously pounded the table and stood up: “Is that what I’m concerned about?”
“If not,” Winters retorted, “What are you worried and angry about?”
Gessa was speechless, trying to refute and explain, yet didn’t know where to start. He was a person with strong self-esteem, couldn’t handle mixing things up; he excelled at using force, but also needed to see who was the object—don’t count on the guy before him.
In short, Gessa didn’t know what to say, so he folded his arms and simply remained silent.
“However,” Winters offered an olive branch solemnly, “I must admit to you, it truly was Brigadier General Skur Meklen who brought me back.
“Brigadier General Skur truly believes it’s necessary to re-examine the current strategy within the Provisional Military Committee, especially discussing whether to continue the siege of Kingsfort—at least that’s what he said in his letter to me.”
Gessa immediately was incited, slapping the armrest: “All said and done, isn’t it still…”
“No,” Winters straightforwardly interrupted Gessa, reiterating, “It’s ‘discussion,’ not ‘majority rule.’ Brigadier General Skur hopes the quartet to reach a consensus again; no one wants to proceed to ‘voting.'”
“If Brigadier General Skur, Major Magash, and I really plan to vote forcibly against you, then I didn’t need to rush back from afar. My two votes would have been delegated to Andre and Senior Mason long ago, you know that, don’t you?”
“Then why did you come back?” Gessa glared.
“I came back to prevent voting,” Winters said seriously, “You also have to admit, since you’ve become the supreme commander, you’ve become more self-willed—or maybe, you were like this all along.”
Gessa’s expression changed, eyes seeing he was about to erupt.
Rushing in before Gessa exploded, Winters spoke first, “In short, Brigadier General Skur is busy in Maplestone City, unable to divide himself; Major Magash is singing triumphantly, and cannot leave the Northern Foothills Province, where things are going well, to come to Kingsfort. Besides them, whom do you think can speak before you?”
Mentioning Magash Colvin didn’t help, it only enraged Gessa more.
While Gessa was rolling around under the city walls of Kingsfort with the main forces, the detachment commanded by Magash Colvin was continuously relaying victories.
If that was all, it would be one thing.
The problem was that Magash Colvin was both capturing cities and demanding reinforcements and supplies from the rear.
His reasons were also convincing: requesting reinforcements because he needed troops to garrison the surrendered towns; demanding supplies because the tax system of Northern Foothills Province had collapsed, and without direct plunder, nothing could be collected.
No matter how much truth or fabrication there was, Magash Colvin’s conquests in Northern Foothills Province were dividing the forces of the Newly Reclaimed Land, and the more he advanced wildly, the more resources he occupied.
As a result, Gessa was enraged at the mention of Magash Colvin.
But Gessa could not express it directly, as he could not stand the thought of others considering him envious of capable people.
So his tone became sharp all of a sudden.
“Indeed,” Gessa remarked coldly, “aside from the two of them, there’s only you.”
Winters sensitively picked up on the Brigadier General’s mood shift and cautiously imagined about Magash Colvin’s situation before rationally deciding that “regardless of anything, it’s best not to bring up Northern Foothills Province for now.”
Of course, the best way to handle this was to steer the conversation back on track.
Winters then leaned over the map table and seriously asked, “Do you really not think the United Provincials might be holding back a right hook?”
“A right hook?” Gessa snorted softly, “Skur is always cautious; he sees ambushes everywhere. If Jansen Cornelius really had that manpower, would he come to Kingsfort with just about a thousand men?”
Gessa glanced at Winters, “Hadn’t you also talked with that person who escaped from the city? Before you came to see me.”
“Nothing can be hidden from you,” Winters nodded, “I did talk to him, but that guy is a complete fool, still not realizing that Minister Cornelius deliberately let him out.”
“But the information he provided, and the intel I previously received, corroborate each other.” Gessa stood up and paced by the map table, “Previously, there were two battalions of United Province soldiers in Kingsfort, sent by Guidao City to help Magnus suppress the opposition;
“Jansen Cornelius brought two more battalions of infantry, plus scattered artillery, engineers, and auxiliary troops, totaling no more than three thousand men.
“Excluding these three thousand United Province soldiers, the remaining troops in the city are just showoffs — useless.”
Gessa stopped, overlooking Winters, “And during this period, the three thousand under Cornelius have suffered casualties, leaving few intact.”
Winters believed Gessa’s assessment of the current forces in the city, but he had some very bad suspicions.
He always felt that these pieces of intel came too easily, as if someone was feeding it to him bit by bit.
But baseless suspicions should not be brought up, so Winters restrained himself and said nothing.
And the “intact” mentioned in Gessa’s words touched a sore spot for him.
“Before meeting you, I also visited the wounded camp,” Winters felt an indescribable discomfort, “our losses are significant too.”
Upon hearing this, Gessa let out a cold snort, assumed an indifferent look, and provocatively asked, “What? You can’t bear to part with them?”
Winters did not get provoked; instead, he calmly asked in return, “And can you bear to?”
Gessa’s expression stiffened, stood there silently for a moment, and then suddenly pounded the map table, collapsing its surface.
“Damn disgusting!” Gessa gritted his teeth, kicking the table leg viciously, “Damn disgusting! Those damned bastards! Damn disgusting! Just won’t come out for a proper fight…”
Hearing the crashing sounds inside the tent, the guards and junior officers of the command rushed in.
Winters waved his hand, and the guards and junior officers who rushed in quickly retreated.
Gessa vented for a while, then sat heavily back in his campaign chair, leaning against the backrest, panting heavily.
Winters got up and poured a glass of wine for the Brigadier General, saying nothing.
But the war must go on, like an avalanche or flash flood, like a natural disaster of some kind; it won’t stop for the joys and sorrows of those caught within.
“Please allow me,” Winters broke the silence, “there’s another place I want to go.”
“Do you even need my permission for where to go?” Gessa pulled a bitter smile, “Tell me, where?”
“Magit Island.”