"Why kick me? I was just joking around. Even if the King heard it, he wouldn't mind."
"Whether or not the King minds is his business. As his subject, you should know your place."
"Alright, stop squabbling. This isn't the time to argue. Let's figure out how we're going to coordinate with the Crimson King's forces so they can break through Creek Mountain's defenses and take this country down as quickly as possible."
"Simple. Creek Mountain's troops are so complacent now that nearly all their fortresses are effectively under our control. Even the few core strongholds that remain in their hands can be taken in a short amount of time if we decide to act."
"I don't think that's the real issue. The question is: are we really just going to sit back and watch while the Crimson King's forces do all the work? Is that all we're supposed to do?"
"I honestly wouldn't mind just watching. Don't forget, they treat us like royalty here—feeding us well, serving us drinks, practically worshiping us. It's nice."
"Allies? Haha." At the mention of the word "allies," the gathered generals couldn't help but laugh.
"To them, we're nothing but hired muscle. Do you know what they call us behind closed doors? 'A pack of ignorant savages from the wilderness.'"
"Let them look down on us. It's not like we're losing anything. Besides, if they don't treat us as allies, we don't have to treat them as allies either."
"Still, we've been living off their resources for so long. It feels a bit ungrateful to stab them in the back now. Maybe we should just let the Crimson King's army handle the heavy lifting when it comes to taking down Creek Mountain."
"True. At least that way, it won't make us look bad when word gets out."
"Gratitude? Ethics? You're both deluded. Morality means nothing between nations."
"Exactly! Creek Mountain's troops only respect us now because they need us. If not for that, do you think those self-proclaimed aristocrats would even look us in the eye?"
"Let's face it: if it weren't for their current desperation, they'd probably act even more insufferable than they already do."
"Don't worry. Once the Crimson King's forces break through, their arrogance will be crushed."
As night fell, the deep thrum of a drum echoed through the barracks, signaling the changing of the guard.
"They're late again! Those lazy bastards didn't show up for the shift change!" A group of Creek Mountain soldiers, who had been standing guard on the fortress walls all day, grumbled angrily as they realized no one had come to relieve them.
"What do we do now? Do we keep waiting?"
"Wait? Hell no. I've been standing here all day; my legs are killing me. Let's head back to the barracks and sleep."
"They're probably down there playing cards and drinking. Even if we wait until morning, no one's coming to replace us."
"But if we leave, this section of the wall will be completely undefended. What if the Crimson King's forces attack?" one hesitant soldier voiced nervously.
"Attack? Don't be ridiculous. That kind of bad luck won't fall on us. Besides, those barbarians outside the walls are on patrol. If anything happens, they'll be the first to handle it."
"But aren't we supposed to be the main line of defense? They're just here to assist."
"Main line of defense? Yeah, right. Look around. The only reason we've been holding our ground is because of those savages from the wilderness. They're the real main force; we're just the backup. And honestly, half the guards on this wall aren't even doing their jobs."
"This feels wrong..."
"What's wrong about it? Don't you know how much our kingdom had to pay to hire those brutes? If we're footing the bill, why should we have to stand around in the cold?"
"Exactly. We've done our job for the day. If anyone's to blame, it's the jerks who didn't show up for the shift change, not us."
And so, despite some dissenting voices, the group of guards abandoned their posts, leaving a stretch of the fortress wall entirely undefended.
Thus, the fortress presented an absurd sight: in some sections, guards huddled beneath parapets, wrapped in cloaks to shield themselves from the biting wind. A few had even brought blankets and were fast asleep. In other sections, the walls stood utterly deserted.
In stark contrast, the black-armored soldiers of Muria's army patrolled diligently outside the fortress, their movements precise and disciplined, maintaining a constant vigil through the night.
This juxtaposition highlighted the Creek Mountain army's complacency, a direct result of their over-reliance on Muria's forces. Believing they could rest easy with the so-called "savages" guarding the outer perimeter, the Creek Mountain soldiers let their guard down entirely.
"Hah! Creek Mountain's soldiers really are something else. Even basic sentry duty seems beyond them," a black-armored officer remarked from a watchtower overlooking the fortress.
"Maybe they trust us that much?" another soldier speculated.
"Trust? Don't kid yourself. It's sheer laziness. Remember how they treated us when we first arrived? They looked at us like we were dirt," the officer retorted with disdain.
"Ugh, I still remember. It was disgusting," another officer chimed in.
"Sigh... It's not worth getting angry over. If Creek Mountain falls, it'll be because of their own incompetence," said a man in civilian clothing—a strategist advising Muria's army.
"Why waste your breath sympathizing with them? If they can't even defend their own country and have to rely on outsiders like us, they're doomed."
"Fair point. But you think our descendants might end up like this one day? Fat, lazy, and entitled after generations of peace?"
"Don't jinx it! Our descendants would never turn out like this!"
"Future's unpredictable. Even the strongest lineages can produce rotten apples."
"Enough of this doom and gloom. We've got more important things to focus on."
"Like what? The Crimson King's forces haven't even arrived yet."
"They're here," the black-armored officer on the watchtower said, pointing toward the horizon.
In the distance, the boundary between land and sky blurred into a shadowy haze. But at the edge of the horizon, a crimson light began to glow—a thin line that gradually spread, its brilliance intensifying. The red glow lit up the sky, turning the clouds above into a fiery spectacle, as if a second sun were about to rise.
"Isn't this a bit too dramatic? They'd have been better off launching their attack during the day," the strategist muttered, turning his head away from the dazzling display.
In his mind, this ostentatious arrival conflicted with their original plan. They were supposed to quietly infiltrate the fortress, taking it with minimal resistance before the Creek Mountain forces even realized what was happening.
But with a display this flashy—like a blazing sun rising from the horizon—there was no way it wouldn't attract attention. Unless, of course, everyone in the fortress was blind.
"An attack at night has more psychological impact," the black-armored officer mused, stroking his chin. "The shock factor alone is worth it. Besides, with soldiers like these, what's there to worry about?"
The officer's confidence stemmed from the utter incompetence of the Creek Mountain troops. In his eyes, victory was already assured.
But what neither he nor the strategist anticipated was the lack of any response from within the fortress. Despite the overwhelming spectacle of the Crimson King's forces approaching like a rising tide of red light, the Creek Mountain defenders remained oblivious.
"Are these people blind? How can they not notice this?" the officer muttered incredulously.
He watched in stunned disbelief as a Creek Mountain soldier poked his head out from beneath a blanket, glanced toward the crimson glow, and then promptly went back to sleep. No alarm was sounded.
"Do they seriously think that just because we're here, they'll never have to fight again?" the strategist murmured, equal parts exasperated and amused.
"Looks like it," the officer replied dryly. "Since we arrived, they've completely stopped engaging the Crimson King's forces. It's pathetic."
"Unbelievable. I've seen a lot of things in my time, but this takes the cake."
As the officer and strategist exchanged disbelieving remarks, the Crimson King's forces continued their approach—an unrelenting crimson tide surging toward a fortress whose defenders remained blissfully unaware of the impending storm.
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