For Stonewold, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
A new monarch had ascended to the throne in Wealdham, and not of the royal bloodline. This was the moment most prone to instability.
Sylas didn't even need to wait for official news; just the information relayed by his spirit girls told him that the royal ladies in some regions had already begun raising armies to "protect the throne."
Across Wealdham, local lords began attacking each other, descending into chaos.
Sylas understood that now was the best time to march south.
He made a decisive report to Gwendolyn.
Gwendolyn also felt it was an opportunity, but she was habitually cautious and reluctant to take risks easily.
Stonewold was too small. Once troops were sent south, if Isolde took the chance to advance west, they would be thrown into a passive position.
However, Sylas's work over the past six months was precisely for this moment.
He immediately explained all his preparations to Gwendolyn.
"I will take only ten thousand soldiers.
Provisions and supplies are already ready, mostly funded by the White Cloud Monastery's money.
The commanders are all retainers I've sought out; they won't destabilize Stonewold's foundation.
Even if we fail, the impact won't be too great.
Isolde probably won't advance west.
She suffered such a great loss last time at Jade Citadel; Aethelred's fangs were broken.
Now that Victoria has also been dismissed, she won't recover for a while."
Sylas analyzed the situation logically.
Gwendolyn looked at him with a cautious expression. After hearing him out, she couldn't help but smile. "I certainly don't wish for you to fail, but you've seen it. With just ten thousand men, how could you possibly take it?"
Sylas smiled slightly and explained calmly, "I won't use lives to assault fortifications either.
I have my own plan.
How about this: give me two months. If I haven't taken Hanvale within two months, I will willingly accept punishment!"
"...Punish you how? What punishment could I give you..."
Gwendolyn looked at him helplessly.
This was her little lord; she cherished him too much to even think of punishing him.
Sylas frowned at her and reminded her softly, "Mistress, you said we must be impartial in public and private matters."
They were discussing official business now; Gwendolyn should handle it officially.
Gwendolyn spread her hands and laughed. "Am I not being impartial? I think I'm being quite serious, but when I see you, I can't bear to punish you."
Full of affection, she pulled Sylas closer, leaning in to hug him.
Sylas pushed her shoulders impatiently. "Official business! We're discussing official business!
Do you permit me to send the troops or not?"
"Let me select a senior general for you. Matters of war, you should..."
Sylas turned to leave in annoyance.
Gwendolyn quickly hugged him around the waist to console him. "Alright, alright, I agree to your campaign. But you said it yourself, two months.
If there are no results after two months, you come back obediently."
Sylas said urgently, "Don't worry, I will definitely succeed!"
He is confident about this.
If executed properly, he felt he could take Argenthaven within half a year.
Sylas finally got his chance to lead troops in battle.
But he didn't rush into action.
Instead, he had the White Cloud Monastery begin widespread propaganda, claiming they were going to Hanvale to seek the true teachings of The Arcane Order.
Beatrice in Hanvale naturally awaited them eagerly.
One had to know, the current Empress of Wealdham was Seraphina, the very one who had blessed them from the Altar of Heavenly Ascent.
Who said studying the arcane was useless?
See? She had achieved ascension and became a sage.
Because of this, Beatrice was also going all out in her arcane studies.
The White Cloud Monastery's reputation had soared; it was now the most popular monastery.
Their arrival was certainly cause for a warm welcome and lavish hospitality.
Thus, three thousand spirit girls from the White Cloud Monastery, dressed in monastic robes, leading six thousand elites disguised as acolytes, driving tens of thousands of warhorses and pulling countless weapons, swaggered towards it.
The garrison at Hanvale was surprised to see so many mystics.
But they had also heard that during the Convocation of the Faithful held by the ascended Rowena the Recluse, there were always at least thirty to forty thousand mystics present.
The Governor's gathering of less than ten thousand was still relatively small scale.
The garrison naturally let them pass.
They even resorted to flattery, hoping to receive some blessings.
The White Cloud Monastery assured them it was no problem. They left one thousand spirit girls and two thousand elites behind. The rest proceeded directly to the capital of Hanvale.
Sylas's arrangements finally came into effect.
The Art of Taming Spirits allowed instant communication; Sylas could coordinate the timing of actions down to the hour.
Once everything was ready, during the grand Convocation of the Faithful, the spirit girls suddenly struck.
Beatrice was cut down on the spot by the spirit girls.
Simultaneously, the nuns at Hanvale threw off their robes, donned fine armor, seized the pass, and killed its commanders. The impregnable Hanvale changed hands instantly.
In less than a month, Hanvale had a new master.
Such a great achievement, and Sylas didn't even have time to report it.
His ambitions were vast, his appetite excellent.
Hanvale was the barrier to The Western Vale. South of Hanvale, there were no strong forces.
But there were still strategic passes.
However, these were not a problem for the spirit girls who could shapeshift into beasts.
News from Hanvale hadn't even reached before strategic passes was successfully subverted by spirit girls who had been lying in wait for a long time.
At this point, Gwendolyn finally realized just how cunning and ruthless the man who shared her bed could be.
But she was also ecstatic. She immediately dispatched thirty thousand Stonewold troops south to rendezvous with Sylas.
Speed was crucial in war, and everything was accomplished according to Sylas's plan.
In less than three months, The Western Vale changed hands.
Stonewold, once trapped in the plains, finally acquired the fertile lands of the south, avoiding a slow suicide.
Sylas's merit was exceedingly high. He was enfeoffed as the Lord of the Western Vale. Thereafter, he remained in Argenthaven, becoming the only male feudal lord in the land.