Chapter 275: Too Poor to Sustain
Facing Matthew's all-seeing gaze, Macaron felt a sudden and inexplicable fear surge from deep within.
It was as if he was staring at a natural predator, with his life hanging by Matthew's whim.
This feeling was strange and unusual, similar to the flashes of insight he occasionally experienced.
In the past, he usually managed to turn danger into safety, although it often came at the cost of his guards' lives, allowing him to survive.
However, this time, when facing Matthew, that feeling was completely different.
Fear flooded his heart, urging him to run away immediately.
But unlike usual, Macaron didn't yield to his instinctual fear and choose to flee or hide.
He had no way out this time!
Noticing his terrified expression, Yaya glanced at him curiously but refrained from asking questions.
She already knew before coming out.
She was there to learn and observe, not to speak out of turn.
If she had any questions, she would ask Matthew directly.
"Interesting…"
Matthew quietly withdrew his gaze and continued to wait for Taling 343 to finish assigning the tasks.
Without unnecessary chatter, 343 quickly completed the distribution of teams and the leading nobles.
Matthew could clearly sense that 343 possessed a unique calculation ability, capable of assessing the combat strength of each unit.
What seemed like a random distribution was actually based on a straightforward logical pattern.
Fit for purpose!
To 343, completing the mission was the most important thing; the thoughts of these nobles were irrelevant.
As Schroeder and others watched confidently, 343 stopped waving her hand and issued a calm command:
"Area 2 will comprise the selected units, totaling 20,000 troops, under the command of Lord Harley!"
Lord Harley?
A Level 15 High-Stage Knight!
The trusted aide and steward of the City Lord, the man who had truly managed Bloodmoon City for the past few years.
Schroeder and his companions were stunned; they never expected the barbarians to draw Lord Harley into action personally.
This carried deep implications, filling them with a sense of foreboding.
"Wait, why is Lord Harley managing Area 2, and why are we assigned there as well?"
"Exactly, our soldiers are stronger and should be assigned to Area 3, where we could take command!"
"Besides us, there's no one else left…"
"Could it be…"
Schroeder quickly realized and turned his gaze toward the Darkmoon Family's silent troops.
Was it them?
There was an inside story!
As they began to feel disgruntled, 343 indeed announced the infuriating news:
"The rest are assigned to Area 3, under the command of Baron Lark from the Darkmoon Family."
Before they could voice any objections, 343, hovering in the air, waved her hand lightly.
The large teleportation array on the ground lit up.
The over 30,000 troops in the camp vanished in a flash of spatial magic.
The vast camp instantly became empty.
Floating in the air, 343 glanced toward the Mage Tower and clenched her fist lightly.
"Uh… where is this?"
Macaron looked at the plaza, surrounded by layers of watchful golems and crossbows, his mind buzzing.
"Could the danger I felt earlier be here?"
Brown patted his shoulder, noting his sweaty appearance, and asked curiously:
"Do you have a grudge against Bay Territory?"
"Or did you offend Lord Matthew?"
Swallowing nervously, Macaron mumbled as he shook his head, eyes filled with confusion and fear:
"No, I haven't…"
Although Brown didn't understand why Matthew had "taken an interest" in Macaron, he was willing to comfort him:
"Then what are you worried about?"
"Gather your soldiers; we're heading out!"
Macaron, along with his bewildered soldiers, made way for the Bay Territory troops, watching as they marched out.
The overwhelming sense of order and discipline left them feeling oddly ashamed.
Look at them!
That's what real soldiers look like!
Exiting the teleportation plaza, Macaron and his soldiers saw a brand-new, pristine city.
Straight, smooth concrete roads divided into four lanes, wider than those in Bloodmoon City.
Flower beds and trees lined the main road, providing ample shade under the sunlight.
Brick houses stood neatly along the outer lanes, exuding a sense of uniform beauty.
The sight sparked an inexplicable desire to live there.
Only a few people were around, most of whom were adventurers.
They moved quickly, passing by and occasionally glancing at the newcomers with curiosity.
The overwhelming impact of Bay Territory's soldiers marching down the central avenue stunned the onlookers.
The orderly movements and powerful aura captivated the crowd.
"Bay Territory hasn't been developing for long, barely half a year…"
"There are plenty of opportunities here, already attracting over ten thousand adventurers…"
"All sorts of resources are readily available, and prices are reasonable…"
"The soldiers are formidable; they've been through…"
"Don't worry, the fighting won't fall to us…"
"We should focus on how to learn…"
"…"
Brown, walking with Macaron, unknowingly spilled details about Bay Territory's rapid growth.
As he spoke, he suddenly realized.
When did Bay Territory become so powerful?
As they moved, Lyon, wearing a smile, approached.
He was accompanied by a squad of fully armed patrol guards and two guard golems that left Macaron dumbfounded.
"Is this Bay Territory? The small village they were talking about?"
Even after entering the military camp's meeting room, Macaron still hadn't fully grasped the reality.
Matthew gestured for him and Brown to sit, opened a map of the Eastern Coast, and marked the information obtained from 343, pointing to the estuary of the Silver Moon River near the coast:
"Approaching Bay Territory from the Eastern Coast requires passing through the estuary of the Silver Moon River."
"We're positioned to the lower left; if they break through, they could threaten us."
"So, our sole objective is to block them at the river's mouth!"
Hearing Matthew's words, everyone remained calm; they had already anticipated this outcome.
Macaron, slightly stunned, directly asked:
"Huh? We're taking the initiative? Can we really hold them back? They have 60,000 troops!"
Sensing the attention on him, Macaron couldn't help but feel uneasy, anticipating some kind of trouble.
Matthew signaled Beelzebub, who cleared his throat and said with a fitting tone:
"They won't have 60,000…"
"They're too poor to sustain that many…"