"Let us ride to camp."
Isak slowly turned his steed in the direction of Norstedt's army camp.
"Hold on!"
With a loud, assertive voice and an unforbidding stare, Adam stood facing Isak's back.
"We had our orders!"
"To ride ahead, scout and intercept any enemy riders."
"We should stay!"
. . . .
After a brief pause, Adam seemed to realize something.
.. And now with a much neutral tone and a lower volume.
"Sir. Isak."
Everyone else in the group had almost stopped breathing, afraid to utter any sound that might intrude on the current intense atmosphere.
Isak pulled the reins slightly to halt and steadied his horse, yet didn't look back.
"Young master.."
Isak didn't shout, yet his voice was clear to everyone.
"Unlike you, I don't have anything to prove."
"Not to anyone."
Isak then continued on slowly without waiting.
Adam can only stare bullets at the knight who is sluggishly moving farther away.
Adam stayed unmoving until another rifleman came closer to his side, while everyone else was now preparing to leave following Isak.
"Let's return, young master."
Adam turned to see his personal attendant, Bray, with several rifles strapped to his back.
Adam slightly softened his look, while Bray continued.
"We have already intercepted two groups of messengers, and now we are running out of supplies, like ammunition."
"There are other scouting units out there, I believe withdrawing will not cause any major issues."
"Also, some had sustained injuries, and needed to be treated."
Adam spun his neck a bit to look at the injured burly man who was being helped up his mount, and the slightly hunchback man trying to wrap his left arm while slowly riding after Isak, who by now is at a considerable distance to them.
Even after hearing several valid reasons from Bray, Adam was still reluctant though his stance had crumbled.
Still defiant like a stubborn ,and embarrassed spoiled little kid.
Then, a sudden light tap connected to the back of Adam's head.
"Lets just go god damnit. I'm hungry."
Breaking the awkward air.
"You!" Bray reacted with a stern reprimanding look and a clenched fist.
While Adam was caught off-guard now looking at the other rifleman walking past them.
This man named Sion was his other attendant, a childhood friend.
Adam finally relent, with a slight smirk on his face, he rode and followed the group.
. . . .
Whilst, on the side of Perma fortress.
A tall and chubby young man was lifting a 12-pounder iron ball, placing it on an open wooden wagon.
The young man paused and unintentionally tried catching his breath when suddenly a man yelled from the front seat of the wagon.
"Hurry up!"
"We're at war, you dolt!"
Hearing this, Van didn't complain and only went quickly back inside the warehouse pushing his wheelbarrow.
Van is only 14 this year, yet he is already two-foot taller than your regular man, plus with a tubby physique.
Only him and his uncle knew how young he really is, that is why most people around then would assume that Van is a fool, looking at how clueless he is.
Van followed his uncle out of the village, even after his uncle shooed him away several times.
He did not relent and walked after his uncle, until the other finally gave in.
After four more times of going back and out of the warehouse, the wagon was finally ready to depart.
Yet Van didn't ride the wagon, instead he jogged behind it.
The wagon, pulled by two strong oxen, travelled from the warehouse, which is inside the walled castle to the foot of the battlements at the outer wall in the north-western side.
On their way, Van saw how the soldiers and their helpers were nervously going around trying to fulfill their own task.
He also noticed with astonishment, a group of men on horseback, both clad with shining metal plates.
The Bosilian heavy cavalry, numbering around 350 is stationed behind the main gate ready to sally on a moment's notice.
With reverence, Van almost stopped on his tracks just staring.
The boy definitely dreamed of being a knight, just as every boy out there.
Van only came back to his senses when another shout came out front.
"You dummy! Hurry up!"
Arriving at their designated section, Van looked up at another area several cannons away from theirs.
There he saw a young man, who looked similar to him, and almost as tall.
His uncle, a bulky young man, was hauling several iron balls through a layered basket up the stairs to the battlements.
Van started his task of hauling iron balls, adding to the stack of iron balls already laid beside a huge cannon.
On his second haul, a young-looking soldier who was about to take the stairs up to the ramparts, saw that Van's partner, the older man who drove the wagon, stayed sitting, and was just loudly ordering the boy around.
"Hey you!" With authority, the soldier called.
The driver looked to see who was calling, and heard that it was a soldier.
"Me sir?"
"Yes, You!"
The driver was about to disembark and run closer to receive the soldier's instruction when…
"No need to come over, but don't just sit there."
"Hurry up and help that man carry all of that up."
Though internally unwilling, the driver respectfully bowed and grabbed another basket to load up some iron balls.
….
On the bastion, several men were peeking in-between the battlements, above the main gate.
Among them, commander Pipe is observing the enemy troops and its movement.
Seeing that the Norstedt's army has positioned themselves at the fortress's west side, he redeployed half of the men who're originally positioned at the eastern walls.
For now, he believed he had already done most that he could.
'If I can only move those cannons around easily.' Commander Pipe thought to himself.
Their defensive guns are mounted on several sections on the ramparts with wider space, suitable for cannon placement.
The Bosilian fort only has one type of cannon, it is a large-caliber, muzzle loading kind.
Each weighs slightly less than 5 tonnes.
Mounting, and transporting each one is a major headache.
Usually requiring a pulley system, 30 to 50 men and half a dozen oxen each.
The Bosilian empire had never been in such a large-scale conflict like this, where cannons were used.
After learning about Norstedt's swift expansion using unconventional battle tactics and with the help of these new siege weapons.
Kingdoms south of now the new Norstedt empire scrambled to acquire the knowledge on making the said new weapons.
Somehow, during a small skirmish in Northern Altion a couple of years ago, a number of cannons, and matchlocks were seized.
At the same time, in order to gain funds to improve their odds against Norstedt, some Altion higher-ups sold the detailed description of these weapons to their neighboring kingdoms.
Though initially, they created shoddy imitations.
Eventually, through trial and error, some started to produce their own functioning versions.