Mobilization is a very complicated matter. Food, drink, diarrhea, communication, assembly routes, and command are all complicated and require extremely high management and organization.
The level of mobilization in the North is still in the feudal era. It is considered fast to mobilize thousands of troops scattered in more than a dozen cities in three months.
Bishop didn't even have an accurate map. He could only point to the approximate points on the map and ask the envoys from each city to convey the news and orders themselves. Most of the time was spent in the long communication process.
In order to formulate a feasible mobilization plan, Friedman Butcher sent people to the North to communicate with various forces and summoned special envoys to sit in the same living room.
The whole day passed in tangled quarrels and wrangling. Each family had its own difficulties, and the quarrels would continue for several days. At night, the talks temporarily ceased, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
"Bishop." At the end of the day's deliberations, Friedman called to his favorite general. He leaned back in his seat and rested his forehead on one hand, trying to ease the distress caused by the chaotic affairs.
In an era when communication relied on yelling, education relied on scolding, and power relied on beating, it was very difficult to manage a feudal territory. Friedman also wanted to throw away his responsibilities as a lord. Wouldn't it be better to be a noble like a rice insect?
The baron stopped, turned around and asked, "Your Excellency, do you have any other instructions?"
"Sit down, Bishop, don't be so serious. I just want to chat with you casually and relax." Friedman was the lord. He casually pointed to the seat in front of the table and stood up to move around.
Bishop opened his chair and sat down respectfully, ready to accept the lord's questioning.
"The last time you retreated from Dense Fog Town, you said that you encountered a heavily armored knight riding a mechanical earth dragon and using extremely powerful continuous magic equipment. The town's defense line failed to block the opponent's attack. In a short time,
Time is defeated."
Friedman stood in front of the window of the living room, rang the bell, and asked the maid to bring some drinks. Bishop, who was seated, replied politely: "Yes, my direct troops encountered a ground dragon."
.
Many people present can testify to this. Even the two stone golems failed to play any role. At most, they consumed the opponent's attack. Afterwards..."
Friedman waved his hand, "No, I'm not doubting it. I just heard that Victor Hugo in Cold Wind City rides a mechanical dragon."
Bishop's heart dropped a little when he mentioned it, "Yes. This monster-like guy often rides his mount alone to patrol inside and outside the Cold Wind City. This has been confirmed.
We once sent people to conduct a surprise attack on Hugo. But the situation in Cold Wind City is particularly weird, and any outsider will become extremely conspicuous. Several of our lurking attempts failed, and we basically returned without success."
Hum hum hum......
Friedman sneered, "Failed to lurk? I think the adventurers who took the money didn't even think about taking action. They could earn more by doing some business in Cold Wind City than the bounty."
Bishop was silent on this.
"What surprised me even more was that the person who defeated you last time was actually Victor Hugo. He came out alone, completely ignoring the powerful force I had painstakingly recruited, and easily defeated him.
Not only did he defeat him, he also frightened the hundreds of troops directly under your command. The next day, all the armed forces that I spent a lot of money to build retreated."
The maid brought a drink, and Friedman drank a glass. The stimulation of the alcohol excited his groggy mind. He took out several papyrus-copied newspapers from the manuscripts on his desk and held them up in his hand.
Yang.
"Look, Hugo wrote the entire battle in this so-called 'newspaper'. He painted you like a buffoon, underestimating the enemy's advance, having scattered troops, being cruel and murderous, greedy and shameless, and...
As timid as a mouse.
All the lords in the North know this, and they must be laughing at me. They are laughing at my incompetence, laughing at the seeming strength of the Butch family, and laughing at everything that can be laughed at. I know everything."
Friedman's thick arms kept waving, and he gritted his teeth in hatred. Bishop quickly stood up, knelt down on one knee and begged for punishment - the battle half a year ago was inexplicably lost, and no one had ever experienced such a cowardly thing.
"Punishment? Why punish?" Friedman shook out the papyrus newspapers and shook them into pieces of grass stems. "This is an unprecedented enemy. He is different from the enemies in the past.
Victor Hugo doesn't care about the nobility at all. He has another system of rule. Those idiots under my command know how terrible the enemy is, but they are not alert at all. They are still waiting for new jokes to appear.
The fools don't know that we can't afford to lose, so they are still selling war supplies to the enemy. Those grains and cloth are helping Victor. Hugo will arm the new legion, and he will definitely fight over.
We can't lose, we absolutely can't lose. Look at what happened to the Long Legs family. If we lose, we'll all be doomed. But I've said it over and over again, but the idiots only know that I'm blocking their way to make money. If we really fight, how can we earn those gold coins?
What is it for?
Bishop, you have suffered at the hands of Hugo and know how powerful he is. So I will not punish you. I hope you can understand my painstaking efforts and that you can faithfully carry out my orders."
Friedman's voice shook the room, and the wine glass in his hand exploded in the shout. This was his voice from the bottom of his heart, and it was also the fear in his heart - the war against Cold Wind City must not fail.
Upon seeing this, Bishop immediately expressed his loyalty and shouted loudly: "Sir, I understand what you mean. I will definitely wash away my shame. Next time we fight, please let me be the vanguard. I will either win or die!"
This attitude was still good, and Friedman was very satisfied. He walked forward slowly, patted Bishop on the shoulder, "I'll give you a chance, and I hope you can cheer up."
"I must be in the fight..."
"No, not just fighting.
One more thing, the fools in the city are not so obedient, they are still trying to find ways to break through the limits I set, and they still want to continue doing business with the enemies in the north. I hope you can deal with those damn guys."
ah......?!
Bishop was speechless.
"How's it going?" Friedman put a little more force on Bishop's shoulders, with a solemn look on his face, "Loyalty cannot be just words. The family needs someone brave enough to stand up and remove the carrion and moths, and that person is you."
Damn it!
What could Bishop say? If he had known this, he might as well have been punished in the first place. If he messed up this offending job, he would be the target of public criticism—no, whether he messed up or not, he would be the target of public criticism.
Maybe after the public outcry, he would be "borrowed". Friedman obviously held a grudge. Bishop messed up the battle that decided the family's fate, and his revenge came six months later.
"Bishop, what's your answer?" Friedman's eyes suddenly became fierce, and his tone increased, "Is it bravery or cowardice? I'm waiting for your choice."
"I..." Bishop's mouth was full of bitterness, but now he knelt down on one knee and could only choose 'brave', "Your Excellency, I am willing to eradicate dissidents in the family for the sword in your hand."
"Very good, very good." Friedman patted Bishop on the shoulder with satisfaction. He reported the names of several idiots, all of whom were high-ranking people in the city, and even members of the wizard group.
A guy who 'doesn't care about the overall situation, just makes money'.
After accepting the order, Bishop once again swore allegiance and left the living room in a cold sweat.
After he left, Friedman let out a long sigh and remained motionless for a long time.
A layer of green light appeared in the living room. The sound of a snake's tail rustled in the darkness in the corner, and a beautiful snake demon more than two meters high slid out on the floor.
The snake demon was taller than Friedman. He looked at the head of the Patriarch of the Butch family with his shining vertical scorpion from a bird's eye view. He spat out the snake message and said with a ferocious smile: "Pathetic reptile, I like the tricks you are playing."
Friedman looked back, his expressionless face expressionless, and he didn't say a word.