Chapter 23: War is the Extension of Politics

"You despicable coward, you dare not admit what you've done. Today, I will make you pay for it," Arafat's anger overflowed, as if he wanted to tear Alexander apart.

But Alexander just smirked, waving his hand, "Retreat!"

He directly ordered the retreat. Yes, shamelessness and cowardice were virtues of a lord. Alexander saw no need to waste his forces dealing with Arafat - in fact, he might not even win against him. His retreat infuriated Arafat to the point of wanting to vomit blood. After finally setting up his formation, he was ready for a decisive battle with Alexander, only to have the opponent flee faster than a rabbit. The key was that the opponent was all cavalry, while his infantry wouldn't catch up even if they chased.

Meanwhile, Alexander smirked as he ran, thinking, "He wants to lure me in, but he's too green." He had gained plenty from this battle and didn't need to take further risks.

After this battle, his experience points had reached:

[Level]: 7

[Strength]: 11

[Agility]: 10

[Intelligence]: 6

[Charisma]: 7

[Available Attribute Points]: 0

[Experience]: 6000/6400

[System Currency]: 0

This was the benefit of war, and he had also acquired a lot of loot to sell for dinars. However, apart from the benefits, Alexander had also suffered losses, as was inevitable in war. No one dared claim they would definitely survive a war. He could only thank the heavens that luck had once again favored him in this battle - if he believed in such things.

As Alexander and his troops returned, someone suddenly approached him with a message from Marshal Hex.

"What? The Marshal invites me to a celebration?" Alexander was surprised. He knew about this celebration - after every major victory in the Kingdom of Saint Martin, there would be a grand celebration.

The specific agenda was to invite the major nobles and heroes to eat, drink, and expand their networks. The most important part, however, was the martial competition.

For the virtuous people of Saint Martin, individual martial prowess was highly admired, making martial competitions an important way to showcase strength. But Alexander's thoughts were not on the so-called celebration. Was it time to think about celebrations now? We should be pressing our advantage! However, the world worked in mysterious ways. The Kingdom of Saint Martin surprisingly... withdrew its troops. Alexander had no idea about the reasons behind it. After all, battles were just surface confrontations; the real core was the political maneuvering behind the scenes. War was an extension of politics. In reality, the Kingdom of Saint Martin and the Western Empire had indeed reached some kind of agreement. They had instantly transformed from adversaries to allies. That's how relationships between nations worked—friends and foes could easily switch, driven solely by interests.

On the other side, Duke Andrew breathed a sigh of relief as he read the reports from the front lines. He knew that the price he had paid to the King of Saint Martin had worked; the Kingdom of Saint Martin had halted its advance. Now, he only needed to face one opponent—the victorious Queen Raya. Queen Raya, with thousands of troops, had surrounded the castle where he was stationed. This stronghold, called Odysseus Castle, was Duke Andrew's hope. Even though he had only five hundred warriors, he dared to rely on its sturdy defenses to confront the massive army of the Southern Empire.

Queen Raya, mounted on a white horse, clad in golden armor, stood below Odysseus Castle, gazing at the fortress that had once belonged to her, now turned into an iron shield blocking her path. Emotions swirled within her. Inside the castle were those she had once trusted.

"Andrew, do you intend to continue your stubborn resistance?" she asked.

"Hehe, my Queen, you're truly naive and lovely. Everyone knows that as a woman, you're simply not capable of shouldering the Empire's responsibilities."

"Hmph, I am the legitimate bloodline of the Imperial family. If even I am not qualified to inherit the throne, who else is fit to inherit the vast territories of the Empire? My useless brother?"

"Prince Charles? Oh no no no, letting him ascend would be a disaster. He's a man obsessed with nothing but women's bosoms."

"So, what exactly are you thinking, Andrew... Duke?"

"I think you should address me as King Andrew now!"

"How dare you!"

...

With Queen Raya's furious roar, the soldiers of the Southern Empire surged towards Odysseus Castle like a tidal wave. This castle had been renovated for a hundred years, with its owner always diligently treating it as a defensive stronghold—even though it had been a long time since any enemy had reached its walls. Today, the castle's defenses truly proved effective, as the towering walls made the Southern Empire's soldiers suffer greatly. They had to endure a barrage of arrows from the archers on the castle walls. Their own archers, being at a lower vantage point, found it difficult to inflict significant damage on the enemies on the walls, thus failing to cover their infantry.

After suffering heavy losses, the valiant soldiers of the Empire barely managed to breach the walls. Exhausted, they then had to face the well-rested troops of the Western Empire. After a day and night of fierce fighting, Queen Raya angrily chose to retreat. This castle... was indeed formidable. It would be difficult to conquer without vastly superior numbers.

The crisis in the Western Empire was temporarily resolved. If Andrew had handled it even slightly improperly, the history of the Western Empire might have been measured in mere months. During this time, the forces of the Kingdom of Saint Martin had returned to their territory with plundered wealth. Having achieved a great victory, they held a grand banquet according to tradition. This celebration was organized by Marshal Hex. Normally, the king would attend, but he was a bit busy at the moment—engaged in warm yet intense exchanges with the Kingdom of Veid in the north.

As winter approached, Veid became restless. They could never shake off their ancestral habits of piracy. Due to the cold climate, agriculture was essentially irrelevant in Veid. An ordinary person from Veid might seem unremarkable and honest, but once they picked up a weapon, they were basically qualified pirates. This wasn't about specific individuals but rather a generalization about all Veidians.

With winter looming and resources scarce, the Veidians were getting restless. As their old adversaries, the Kingdom of Saint Martin was prepared. The king had led his army to the border in advance, ready to eliminate any Veidian pirates who crossed the border.