In Liberty City, Count George, Viscount Louis, and seven or eight other nobles were preparing to depart for Sedona City.
It was now the third day since Viscount Louis's return. An army cannot simply march at a moment's notice; coordinating supplies takes time, and even with two days of preparation, the pace was frantic.
"Viscount Louis, is the wheat supply sufficient to last us until we reach Sedona City?" George asked in a heavy voice.
As an old noble with extensive campaign experience—a point of great personal pride—he did not believe for a moment that Sedona City could withstand his assault.
"It... should be enough," Louis hesitated.
"What do you mean 'should'? I want a definitive answer!" George roared, his face darkening. If Louis were his direct subordinate, he would have had him executed already to establish discipline.
"It's not enough," Louis whispered cautiously.
"What? Not enough? Cough, cough, cough..." George's eyes bulged, his white hair bristling. He was so incensed his breathing became erratic.
"His Highness said... we should requisition wheat from the cities along the way," Louis added quickly in a low voice.
"..." George was speechless, his fury simmering but trapped. If it weren't for the Fourth Prince's direct involvement, he would have stormed in to demand how one is expected to fight a war without food.
"Liberty City doesn't have much wheat left either," Louis whispered, glancing at the dozen or so minor Western nobles nearby. "His Highness wants us to collect as much as possible on the march."
"So... that's it!" George realized instantly. The Fourth Prince hadn't dispatched a thousand-man knight order just to crush Sedona City; he was using the expedition as a pretext to seize grain.
It all made sense now. A mere Baron like Lucas was insignificant to the Prince. The primary goal of this invasion was a massive grain heist; Sedona City was just the excuse. George surmised that even without the Lucas incident, the Prince would have manufactured a reason to attack another city to loot their stores. After all, faced with a thousand knights, no minor noble would dare refuse a contribution.
The Fourth Prince is certainly thorough, George thought, though his expression remained sour.
"Lord George, what should we do now?" Louis asked, watching the count's shifting expression. "Should we demand wheat from those minor nobles over there?"
"No need. There's no time," George said coldly. A commander must never let his subordinates read his thoughts—that was the key to leadership.
"Lord George, what do you make of the leaflets distributed last night?" Louis asked, pulling a folded slip of paper from his tunic.
These leaflets had appeared suddenly throughout Liberty City the night before, filled with treasonous claims.
They alleged that the First Prince had murdered the King to steal the throne; that the Fourth Prince was a hypocrite who was bleeding the nobility dry for a rebellion he was destined to lose; and that he was nothing more than a beaten cur driven from the capital by his brothers. Most shockingly, it claimed that Princess Lucy had arrived in Sedona City and had vowed to fight the princes to avenge her father.
There were over a dozen such points, each designed to cut deep. They portrayed the princes as incompetent and greedy, specifically targeting the Fourth Prince's reputation.
Louis was deeply unsettled. He had abandoned everything to support the Fourth Prince. If the prince truly was as weak and doomed as the leaflets claimed, then Louis had hitched his wagon to a falling star. If the First or Second Prince eventually took the throne, Louis would be a dead man.
"Nonsense! It's a blatant attempt to drive a wedge between us and His Highness," George barked.
In truth, he was also rattled. The leaflets detailed the massive power gap between the Fourth Prince and his brothers. It meant they had to unify the Western Lands immediately, or victory would be impossible. As for the claim about the First Prince murdering the King, that was actually good news for them; they could use avenging the father as a powerful tool to rally public support.
"I see." Seeing George's reaction, Louis actually became more convinced by the leaflets.
So the Fourth Prince really was that pathetic. No wonder he fled to this backwater; that talk of a strategic withdrawal for development was just a cover for being chased out of the capital. It also explained why a mere Baron like Lucas didn't fear the Prince—he had the backing of Princess Lucy.
"You don't actually believe this garbage, do you? Especially the part about Sedona City having a thousand-man knight order? Do you think he could afford that?" George sneered.
"Uh... no, I don't believe that," Louis stammered, shaking his head. That was the one part that seemed impossible; the cost of steel armor alone for a thousand knights would bankrupt a count.
"Don't let these rumors distract you," George said sternly.
Even if the leaflets were true, as core members of the rebellion, they had already crossed the Rubicon. There was no going back.
"Yes. I understand. I was overthinking," Louis replied.
"Move out." George walked toward his carriage. The reason for their hurried departure after only two days of prep was precisely because of those leaflets—they needed a swift, decisive victory to stabilize the Western Lands and silence the dissent.
"Yes, Sir!" Louis turned to the disciplined ranks of the knight order and shouted, "Move out!"
Tramp, tramp, tramp...
The army quickly vanished into the horizon.
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