It must be said that Baron Chenchibay acted very quickly, not only dividing half of the Governor's mansion for army command use, but also gathering a group of maids to serve everyone, which was quite thoughtful. However, Iron Axe refused them all on the grounds of preventing leaks.
Looking at the few young people in the staff team who showed reluctant expressions, he said expressionlessly, "It's time to work. Get moving. Don't forget that your performance will be recorded and submitted to Edith Kant for review. You should know the consequences if there are any mistakes."
At the mention of the Pearl of the Northlands' name, everyone shivered and immediately scattered to get busy.
"Maps, I'll hang the maps!"
"What about the itinerary? Let me double-check it."
"Who will coordinate with me on the amount of food to be prepared?"
The room suddenly became lively.
"As expected of young people, they're so energetic..." Remy shook his head with a smile, "The Baron has good insight, I'm afraid he's already seen through these people's backgrounds."
"Just a common tactic of the nobles," Iron Axe frowned, "Hopefully he can put as much effort into the migration."
"Don't worry, our Administrative Office will track and supervise this," Remy patted his chest and said, "In short, in this way, the first stepping stone has been successfully taken, and the process can be said to be even smoother than I expected. In a sense, the Fang and Red Stone Gate families have actually helped us, but it may not be so easy next..."
"No, there's no difference," Iron Axe interrupted.
"Is... is that so?" The latter was stunned.
"Because they are already behind the times." After he finished speaking, he didn't reply, but turned his gaze out the window. The rain clouds were dissipating, and a small patch of blue appeared in the gloomy sky.
"Because they are already behind the times." Edith had said this to him a week before departure—but this time it wasn't a private meeting, but a direct invitation to the General Staff Department office, with a meeting recorder arranged. And the topic of discussion was how to efficiently complete His Majesty's population migration plan. "Unaware of the changes in the outside world, all eyes are fixed on the wealth at hand, with no imagination, claiming to be good at calculating gains and losses. Most nobles are like this. If I'm not mistaken, you plan to fight them one by one, right?"
"If they hinder His Majesty's plan."
"Too slow," Edith said bluntly. "This operation is different from the unification war of Graycastle. Unfamiliar territories need to be garrisoned to ensure the migration route is unobstructed, but the available soldiers will be constantly diluted. Even if the final victory is beyond doubt, it will greatly extend the time of the entire plan. Secondly, the strength of Graycastle may make them afraid of a direct conflict, but their behind-the-scenes plans may not be exposed immediately. By the time they cause substantial damage, your actions will seem blind and will damage His Majesty's prestige."
"Then what should I do?"
"Identify the targets in advance and win over one group to attack another." Edith handed over a form.
Only the face was filled with options, with scores of +1 and +2 marked behind them.
"What is this?" Iron Axe was the first time he saw such a special form.
"Threat assessment table? Rebellion classification manual?... In short, what it's called doesn't matter. This is something I wrote based on the psychology of the nobles. The reference conditions include gender, heir, territory size, number of troops, daily behavior, and so on. You just need to fill in the corresponding information in the box to get a rough result. The more useful information available, the more conducive to judgment. Because the situation in Wolfheart and Everwinter has changed greatly, the General Staff Department can't complete all of this work for you. If you encounter names that are not on the list, calculate according to the table."
"What happens after the calculation?" he asked while flipping through it.
"Those below fifty can be won over. Their strength is mediocre, and their ambitions are equally limited. But these nobles can do a lot of things. Local map information, town distribution, and population details can all be learned from them. And more importantly, with the support of the local lords, the migration work can be most efficient," Edith explained.
"As for those above fifty..." She paused, "They can be regarded as having no negotiation value, or that it is not worth wasting time on them—regardless of whether the other party has shown submission, you should take the initiative to attack and not leave them any room for illusion."
Even Iron Axe felt a trace of shock when he heard this. He was not afraid to wipe out all the nobles who dared to resist His Majesty, but in terms of methods and means, he was far behind—the Pearl of the Northlands used only a table to determine the future of these nobles, even if she had never seen them or spoken to them.
He was silent for a moment before saying, "Is the result... accurate?"
As the commander-in-chief of the First Army, Iron Axe naturally understood the meaning of time, and he also knew how much effort this form could save him—a large part of the migration fleet's seagoing ships were leased by His Majesty from the fjord merchant guild. Even if the devils had no plans to erect obelisks in the Impassable Mountain Range, the migration should be completed as quickly as possible.
"It is not excluded that there will be deviations, and even setting the dividing line at fifty is just my personal opinion. Considering the preciousness of time, the specific way to do it is up to you to decide," Edith took a sip of tea unhurriedly. "After all, the General Staff Department is only responsible for providing opinions."
Iron Axe turned to the last page, which was a list of conclusions that had already been drawn. The information should have come from Dawn. The first place below fifty was the first landing point of the fleet plan, the lord of Chenchibay.
Before leaving the General Staff Department office, he asked the other party one last question.
"Are there no nobles who will not fall behind the times?"
"Of course there is that possibility," Edith smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear, "But even without this table, I believe you will be able to tell quickly—because that person must be very much like me."
Remembering that confident expression, Iron Axe sighed. He gathered his thoughts and turned to walk towards the First Army camp. Just as the Pearl of the Northlands had said, the nobles were not the problem; how to transfer the people in an orderly and efficient manner was the difficulty.
However, only two days later, ten thousand migrants gathered in the Chenchibay dock area! They were densely packed outside the square, waiting to board the ship and depart. This number not only exceeded Iron Axe and Remy's expectations, but even made Baron Jean Beate greatly surprised.
The First Army had to postpone the departure date to maintain order of the crowd.
"What's going on?" Iron Axe asked Remy, "Could it be that you exaggerated His Majesty's promises in your publicity?"
"How dare I make decisions without authorization," Remy shook his head repeatedly, "Everything is done according to the procedures summarized by the Administrative Office in the past. Its efficiency depends on the prestige of the instigator. If it were Neverwinter City, it wouldn't be strange, but this baron can't compare to His Majesty at all, so the number of people to be transferred per day in the original plan was only set at three to five hundred."
"As a result, it has more than doubled twenty times now." Iron Axe said with a complicated mood. The more immigrants, the better, but things that exceed the plan are always a little uneasy. He knew how difficult it was to get these people to give up their land and believe that danger was imminent, even if His Majesty had promised a certain amount of compensation, but Graycastle was always an extremely distant and unfamiliar place for the Wolfheart people. Now that there are suddenly so many migrants, it is hard not to wonder what is happening behind the scenes.
"If I had to say, there is one situation that may correspond to the present," Remy pondered for a moment before saying, "That is the refugees fleeing from disaster."
Because these people originally had nothing. As long as there is a glimmer of hope, they will rush to it like moths to a flame.
"But these are all freemen from the villages and towns near Chenchibay."
"The theory is correct, but my men heard some interesting rumors during the propaganda—such as the Red Stone Gate family and Baron Beate having a family feud and planning to turn the surrounding lords into slaves after taking Chenchibay. Another rumor is that monster *chiren* have appeared in the northern hills, and some towns have been eaten empty overnight, with bones placed in the middle of the road, and now those monsters are spreading to the southeast. There are many similar rumors, and each one has a nose and eyes, which makes the local people panic. I think this is probably the reason why there are so many migrants—if they can't wait to leave their homes, are they not like refugees?"
Iron Axe was stunned, "When did the rumors start?"
"At least a month and a half ago, when we had just set off from Neverwinter City," Remy stroked his chin and said, "Should we say that we're really lucky?"
Like hell. Iron Axe's face darkened. It was clear that someone was fueling the flames behind the scenes and was well aware of the purpose of the First Army's trip.
Who spread these rumors? Why are they helping Graycastle? Are they friends or enemies? A series of perplexing questions flooded his mind.
—Until a soldier interrupted his thoughts.
"Sir, someone asked me to give you this letter."
"Who?" Iron Axe temporarily suppressed his distracting thoughts and took the envelope.
"He didn't leave his name. He's a little guy," the soldier replied, "But he said he was also handing it over, probably because the writer didn't want to be seen by others. I've checked it. There's nothing inside except a piece of paper."
The envelope was made of ordinary hemp cloth, which was much cheaper than sheepskin or cowhide and commonly found in civilian markets. The bag mouth was not sealed with wax either, but was directly open, which seemed very casual. Iron Axe took out the piece of paper inside, but was surprised to find that it was jet black, and its hard and smooth texture was definitely not something ordinary people could afford.
He turned it over, and there was only a line of small gold letters on the face.
"This is a gift from your loyal servant. I hope you are satisfied."