When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#315 - Mizam's Poisonous Plot

A thin layer of mist covered the plain, the acrid smell of burning firewood and decaying corpses dominating the air.

In the mist, a siege engine was engulfed in flames, burning fiercely under the scorching sun.

Hundreds of corpses lay scattered on the ground, amidst trenches, sharpened wooden stakes, and crossbow bolts.

Before the corpses, Ansenburg stood like an insurmountable mountain, prostrate on the vast earth.

The deep black moat encircled the city, its turbulent waters reflecting a metallic glint.

The uneven, dark green-black brick walls were already stained with scarlet blood and green bile.

Leaning against the battlements, the defending soldiers silently wiped their short swords and spears.

They occasionally peered outwards, alert to any possible attack.

From the city walls, the south and west revealed an endless plain, sparsely dotted with huts and villages.

To the north, before the forests and mountains, stretched a continuous camp, where men and horses neighed, and the glint of weapons shimmered before the eyes of the defending soldiers.

On the high ground outside the camp, a handsome knight in chainmail frowned as he faced Ansenburg.

Gazing at the sparse huts scattered across the vast plain and the iron-like fortress, the silver-tongued Knight Alman felt a twinge of frustration.

He had been attacking the city for almost a week, losing seven or eight hundred men, yet had made no progress.

The garrison of this small castle numbered only eight or nine hundred, yet they had blocked his two Edict Legions, 1200 Transcendent Knights, from advancing.

This castle was built entirely of mortar and could transport grain by water, and they couldn't bypass it.

Previously, he had led his army and was reduced from two fully staffed Edict Legions to two half-staffed legions by Molitia with minimal casualties.

After a month of recovery, he had only managed to restore the original 600 Transcendent Knights in the Edict Legion to 450.

Although Prince Condé showed little reaction to his failure, he instead vehemently cursed Bo'ao.

Alman was present at the time, and it was the first time he had seen Prince Condé lose his composure to such an extent, angrily shouting at the letter, "Bo'ao, give me back my Edict Legion!"

For this small castle, what Alman feared was not failing to capture the city, but failing to capture it within the allotted time.

Give him a month, and he could capture the city, but Prince Condé only gave him twenty days.

However, Alman had one advantage: he knew his own limitations.

Realizing that he might not be able to complete the siege on time, he did not try to shift the blame but immediately requested support from Prince Condé.

So today, Mizam arrived with 300 Transcendent Knights from Hottam County.

"Monk Mizam, it's been a long time since I last saw you." Dismounting from his horse and removing his helmet, Alman greeted Mizam with impeccable etiquette.

"Lord Alman." Mizam lowered his hood, squinted, and smiled. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"I am of limited talent and cannot break through Ansenburg. I apologize for troubling you," Alman said sincerely.

Mizam still wore a kind smile, but his words sent a chill down Alman's spine under the scorching sun.

"This time, to support you and attack Highfort City, we have almost emptied Hottam County of its Transcendent Knights.

His Highness the Prince told me that there is a limit to indulgence, and he wants to see the flag planted on the walls of Rapid Current City within a month."

"Yes, yes..." Alman stammered, losing the eloquent tongue he possessed in front of ordinary people.

Looking at Alman before him, Mizam also felt somewhat helpless.

Due to the restraints of the church and Prince Condé's own personality, most of his subordinates were the valiant general type, extremely powerful on the front lines, with few strategists like Bo'ao.

If it were like before, cooperating with ordinary Transcendent Knights and infantry, with the kingdom providing replenishment and planning, this kind of fighting would actually be very efficient.

But since the deaths of the old king and the Pope, Prince Condé, while losing his shackles, also lost support.

Mizam was originally responsible for monitoring Prince Condé, but with the death of the old Pope and the chaos within the church, he could only completely side with Prince Condé.

Even now, Mizam did not understand why John VIII insisted on making a will that he knew was impossible to fulfill.

The will of the old Pope John VIII contained many things, but the key points were only two:

First, after his death, there was no need to wait for cardinals from other places to return; a papal election should be held immediately based on a simple majority principle.

Second, promote the young Bishop Shelley to cardinal.

Both of these contents were procedurally unjust to some extent; the old Pope, who had always followed the rules, gave everyone a big surprise before his death.

Not only did he create chaos within the church, but he also pushed Mizam into a dead end.

Mizam's lips curled into a bitter smile. Prince Condé was definitely a good knight commander, but he might not necessarily be a good ruler.

Just like in his situation with Alman, the best choice would be to replace him.

But he had no other choice; this was the optimal solution.

"Tell me about the situation," Mizam said to the silver-tongued knight.

At this point, the silver-tongued knight displayed his advantage, explaining the current situation and layout clearly.

After listening to the silver-tongued knight, Mizam frowned and thought for a long time, then suddenly asked, "Have the villagers around here fled?"

"Some have fled, but after seeing that we didn't do anything to them, they came back."

"Have you tried driving these villagers to attack the city before?"

"Ah? Monk Mizam, it's difficult even for our regular infantry and knights to attack the city, let alone civilians?"

"When did I expect civilians to attack the city? If we really want to attack, you personally lead the troops." Mizam said irritably, "The garrison is most likely made up of locals.

We drive the villagers to attack the city, but we don't kill these villagers.

If the city official opens the gate and lets the villagers in, it will deplete the enemy's food supply for nothing.

If the city official doesn't open the gate and watches his relatives starve to death outside the city, the soldiers' morale will inevitably decline.

At this time, we can even use catapults to throw in some diseased livestock.

At this point, we face only two situations: first, they don't let people into the city, then we take the opportunity to slander the city official.

We can then try to persuade them to surrender, which would be more likely than persuading them now.

Second, they let people into the city, then we send Shadowless Ones to mix in and seize the city gate.

If successful, that's great; if not, the city official will inevitably evolve into the first situation, not daring to let people into the city.

This will inevitably lead to a decline in their morale, and I have brought in fresh troops and catapults, cooperating with the commander to personally charge into the formation, and we will definitely be able to capture the fortress in a short time."

"But they are our believers, isn't this a bit..." Alman hesitated.

Mizam replied decisively, "Within enemy territory, they are the enemy; there is no such thing as believers."

"Will this work? Won't it make them more united?"

"People's hearts are selfish. They know it might lead to the city's collapse, but they will still take a chance and let people in. They know the city official is not wrong, but they will still resent and hate him."

Mizam squinted, looking at Ansenburg, which was bursting with songs, and said in a low voice, "This is still based on the assumption that their city official can communicate normally with the soldiers."