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The Alger Fortress was one of the key fortresses along the border that defended the Clyde Empire from the Kingdom of Jugend. Any standard direct siege on it would require over five times the attacking force compared to usual.
Decades ago, even Jugend had tried taking Alger several times, wasting countless barrels of gunpowder before retreating empty-handed. That was then, of course.
“This will be sufficient. I truly appreciate your personal attendance at this meeting, my lord.”
“The honor is mine, Your Eminence.”
The Margrave of Alger clasped Irexana’s hand, bowed once, and left the chamber with an unchanged expression. He wanted to shout in frustration, but Irexana was now, without question, his superior. If he were to scream, he’d have to do it in private, smashing furniture in his own chambers.
Sensing his barely contained resentment, Irexana gave a faint, wry smile and muttered to himself, “Well now… looks like I might’ve dealt him the final blow without meaning to.”
A few days after Leon’s party had left Alger, the Jugend army led by Irexana arrived at the fortress. What they saw atop the walls was a white flag.
At first, they suspected a ruse. However, when the Margrave himself emerged through...
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