dognovel Chapter 631 Learning from the Wisdom of Our Predecessors
Chapter 631 Learning from the Wisdom of Our Predecessors
Dusk, like a piece of velvet soaked in ink, is slowly covering the rolling mountains.
Guts' armor was still stained with wet blood and dust. He parted the low bushes blocking his way, followed by a string of exhausted figures: the old, the weak, women and children supporting each other, their clothes so tattered they could barely cover their bodies, their faces full of fear and haggardness, only their eyes still holding a faint desire to survive.
The campfire was already lit, and the firelight flickered between the tents, illuminating Griffith's tall figure.
He was standing outside the main tent, his gaze fixed on the approaching procession. When he saw the emaciated civilians, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Only after Guss brought the person to him did he step forward, his voice gentle yet steady:
"Distribute the food so they can fill their stomachs first."
The soldiers of the Hawk immediately sprang into action, unloading compressed bread, dried meat, and water from leather bags from the supply wagons and distributing them to the civilians.
The hungry people took the food with some initial hesitation, but once the first child wolfed down a piece of bread, the others could no longer resist and began to gulp it down.
The old man, having lost his teeth, soaked the flatbread in water to soften it before slowly chewing it. The woman, on the other hand, first stuffed most of the food into the child's mouth, while she herself only gnawed on a small piece of dry, hard jerky.
The flickering light from the campfire shone on their faces, revealing how the vitality brought by the food was gradually dispelling their despair.
After everyone had finished eating, Griffiths slowly stepped forward, his gaze falling on an elderly man who appeared to be the oldest among the crowd.
The old man's hair was as white as frost, his face was etched with deep wrinkles, and he was leaning on a cane made of hardwood, the tip of which had been worn smooth and shiny.
"Where are you from?"
The old man put down the water pouch in his hand, his throat moved, and his hoarse voice sounded as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper:
“We are ordinary people from the villages and towns of Ronna, and we were just living a simple life.”
His body trembled slightly, and a hint of fear flashed in his eyes.
"Until Yoda's army came, they were like a pack of inhuman beasts, burning our houses, stealing our food, and killing everyone they saw..."
A young man nearby chimed in, a wound on his arm that hadn't healed and was now faintly bleeding.
“The able-bodied men in the territory wanted to rebel, but we only had hoes and machetes, which were no match for their swords. We had no choice but to flee into the mountains, where we built some shacks in the valleys and barely managed to form a settlement, which saved our lives.”
"Today I was on my way to pick up another group of villagers who had fled from the south, but I didn't expect to run into Yoda's patrol. I was captured in no time. If it weren't for this gentleman..."
He looked at Gus, his eyes filled with gratitude, but he choked up and couldn't finish his sentence.
Griffith listened quietly, and only spoke slowly after everyone's emotions had calmed down a bit:
"You have suffered."
His voice was filled with genuine compassion.
"I came here on the orders of General Midlan Laban. My sole purpose is to protect the civilians of the Rona Territory from the ravages of war."
He paused, his gaze hardening.
"Mitland's army has already amassed at the border and will soon march south to reclaim this land. Then you will be able to descend the mountain and return to your homes to live peaceful lives again."
These words were like sweet rain, nourishing the parched hearts of everyone present.
The long-standing fear, helplessness, and despair were dispelled by the light of hope at this moment.
The old man's lips trembled with excitement as he bowed deeply to Griffith.
"Thank you, my lord! Thank you, Kingdom of Midland! We finally have hope!"
Other civilians followed suit, some even kneeling on the ground and kowtowing to Griffith in gratitude. A long-suppressed sob filled the camp, this time a cry of joy.
Griffith raised his hand to signal everyone to stand up, his gaze sweeping over the crowd before him, and said sincerely:
"To be honest, my Hawk Band needs a stable base of operations after venturing deep into the mountains. The terrain is complex, and we are not familiar with this area. Does anyone know of any suitable places to set up camp?"
Upon hearing this, the common people lowered their heads and began to think. The mountains were mostly dense forests and steep slopes, and it was not easy to find a place where they could both set up camp and defend against enemies.
After a moment of silence, a dark-skinned, burly middle-aged man suddenly brightened up and clapped his hands:
"My lord, I've remembered a place!"
He took two steps forward and said urgently:
“Deep in these mountains, there is an ancient castle. It was built by a local nobleman a long time ago, supposedly to defend against bandits. When news of the Yoda's attack reached this place, the nobleman was so frightened that he fled with his family and possessions overnight, and the castle has remained empty ever since. Moreover, the location is remote and the mountain roads are difficult to travel, so no one has dared to go there for so long.”
A hint of interest flashed in Griffith's eyes as he gently stroked his chin with his fingers.
An existing castle, however old, is always better than starting from scratch in the wilderness.
He pondered for a moment, then nodded and said:
"In that case, let's go take a look first."
As night deepened, the mountain wind howled through the forest, making a mournful sound, like the whispers of countless wronged souls.
Griffith led the Band of the Hawk and the rescued civilians, following three civilians familiar with the mountain paths, avoiding the main roads where Yoda's army might be patrolling, and entered the dense primeval forest.
The forest was pitch black, with only the flickering light of the torches in each person's hand casting distorted shadows of the surrounding trees, which looked menacing and ready to pounce at any moment.
The map, glowing with a yellowish hue in the firelight, gradually aligned with the landscape before them, the mountains and rivers marked on it. Meanwhile, the locals, having spent years hunting and gathering herbs in the mountains, knew every path and every treacherous rapid intimately.
The man trudged through the thick layer of fallen leaves along the hidden animal trail. The path beneath his feet was sometimes gentle and sometimes steep, and sharp branches occasionally scraped against his armor, making a harsh, grating sound.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, a relatively well-maintained mountain path finally appeared in the torchlight.
Continuing along this path, after trekking for an unknown amount of time, the dense forest ahead suddenly opened up.
A simple settlement built against the mountain came into view, with dozens of wooden and thatched huts scattered in an orderly fashion, surrounded by a low wooden fence.
On a high point near the settlement stood a simple wooden watchtower.
The militiamen on the tower were scanning their surroundings warily, each holding a sharpened spear.
When he saw Griffith and his men approaching with torches, his expression changed drastically. He gripped his spear tightly, carefully observed them for a moment, and seeing that they numbered well, were all armored, and carried weapons, he immediately turned and climbed down from the watchtower. He stumbled and ran towards the settlement, shouting as he ran:
"Outsiders have arrived! Many outsiders carrying weapons!"
A moment later, the wooden door of the settlement creaked open, and a group of people carrying various "weapons" poured out.
Some of them held rusty swords, some carried sharpened wooden sticks, and others held hoes, sickles, and other farm tools. They all looked wary, their eyes filled with vigilance and unease.
Upon seeing this, the civilians whom Guts had rescued immediately stepped forward and loudly explained to the burly, bearded man at the head of the group:
"They're on our side! This is a high-ranking official from the Kingdom of Midland, here to protect us! We encountered Yoda's army on the road, and it was thanks to this official and his men that we were saved, otherwise we would have been dead long ago!"
The burly man with the thick beard frowned, his gaze sweeping back and forth between Griffith and the members of the Band of the Hawk behind him.
He was tall and muscular, with bulging muscles on his arms, and a thick beard that covered most of his face, revealing only a pair of sharp eyes.
He turned to look at the rescued civilians, making sure they looked genuine and showed no signs of coercion. Seeing that some of them were fellow villagers he knew, his tense expression eased slightly.
"Thank you for saving them, sir."
He hesitated for a moment, his tone still carrying a hint of caution.
"Since you've been sent to fight the Yodas, please come in. The conditions in the mountains are simple, so we'll have to trouble you all."
As he spoke, he stepped aside to make way, and the crowd behind him dispersed, revealing the path leading into the settlement.
Griffith nodded and led the group into the settlement.
In the open space between the shacks, several children curiously peeked out, looking timidly at the strangers dressed in armor and carrying weapons, before quickly retreating behind their mothers. The women brought out bowls of water and some rough flatbread, simple yet full of sincerity.
The group rested in the settlement for the night. The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, the mist still shrouded the mountains and forests, and the distant peaks appeared and disappeared, like a fairyland.
Griffiths then led several captains, including Jedo and Golkas, and followed a local guide into the depths of the mountains.
The mountain path was even steeper than the previous night. In the swirling mist, one could only see a few steps ahead, and the slippery pebbles underfoot made one have to be extra careful.
The guide led the way with steady steps, occasionally reminding everyone where there were hidden pits and where they needed to grab onto vines to climb.
The group climbed up the narrow mountain path, with only birdsong and the rustling of leaves in their ears.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, the fog gradually dissipated, and golden sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating the mountain peaks ahead. The outline of a dilapidated castle suddenly came into view.
It stands alone on the edge of a cliff, surrounded by steep rock walls, with only a narrow mountain path leading to the castle gate. Its strategic location makes it easy to defend and difficult to attack, clearly indicating that it was carefully selected and built in the past.
As they drew closer, the castle's dilapidated state became increasingly clear.
The city wall was built of bluish-gray boulders. Over time, it has been eroded by time and ravaged by war. The wall is covered with cracks. Near the foot of the mountain, a section of the wall has completely collapsed. Weeds grow among the broken walls and vines climb up the cracks in the stones, covering the wall completely and making it almost impossible to see its original appearance.
The guide pointed to the collapsed section of the city wall and said somewhat embarrassedly.
"When we fled up the mountain, we didn't have any building materials, so we could only dismantle a section of the city wall and use those stones to build sheds and fences. Please don't be offended, sir."
Griffiths didn't speak, but simply nodded silently, his gaze fixed on the castle.
Although dilapidated, it is not small in size, roughly able to accommodate several hundred people, enough for all members of the Band of the Hawk to be stationed there.
Moreover, its high elevation and expansive view make it an excellent defensive stronghold, offering a panoramic view of the surrounding area for dozens of miles from the top of the castle.
Gorkas stepped forward first, grabbed the heavy wooden door of the castle with both hands, and pushed it hard.
"Squeak-"
After a piercing sound, the door slowly opened, and a blast of air mixed with dust, mustiness, and the smell of weeds rushed out, causing everyone to cover their mouths and noses and cough violently.
The courtyard was overgrown with waist-high weeds, and rubble and broken tiles were scattered everywhere. Several startled wild rabbits darted out from the weeds and quickly disappeared into the holes in the city wall.
Stepping inside the castle, the scene is even more dilapidated. The once grand hall is now filled with withered branches, fallen leaves, and discarded debris. The murals on the walls have long since faded and peeled off, revealing the bricks and stones underneath. Most of the rooms on both sides of the corridor have no doors, leaving only empty frames. Broken pottery jars and rusted ironware are scattered on the ground.
In the innermost meeting room, thick cobwebs hung from several sturdy beams, resembling white curtains. Dust covered the tables and chairs; a light touch would send up a cloud of smog, stinging the eyes. Several rats scurried past in the corner, disappearing into the darkness.
Gorkas frowned, kicked away a piece of gravel on the ground, his face full of disgust:
"These conditions are worse than sleeping on the streets."
Jiedu frowned slightly, looked around, and said:
"The city walls have collapsed, the houses are damaged, and there is not even a decent source of water. If people want to live here, large-scale repairs are necessary, which will take a lot of time and manpower."
However, unlike the others' disdain, Griffiths wore a satisfied smile.
He paced slowly, his gaze sweeping over every corner of the castle, from the collapsed walls to the cobweb-covered beams, from the overgrown courtyard to the dark and damp rooms. There was no dissatisfaction in his eyes, but rather a gleam of excitement.
"Yes, this place is very nice."
He spoke, his voice filled with undisguised joy.
"At least we don't have to start from scratch; we have a ready-made foundation. With just a little repair, this place can become our stable base."
Jiedu looked at him with some confusion:
“But Griffith, the repairs are quite difficult, and we are currently short of resources, so many materials need to be transported up from the foot of the mountain.”
Griffiths did not answer directly, but instead took a book out of his backpack.
The book's cover was made of tough cowhide, and it was quite old with severely worn edges. The words "Forest Province from Zero" were written on it in large characters.
"what is this?"
Jiedu curiously leaned closer, his gaze falling on the pages of the book, and the other captains also gathered around.
Griffith gently stroked the cover:
"This is a memoir written by an old official who was one of the earliest to follow King John of Heldland."
He paused, then slowly turned the pages. The paper inside was yellowed, but the handwriting was still neat and clear.
"Back when King John was just the Forest Governor of the Kingdom of Midland, he was ordered to reclaim the forest territory."
He was leading only a few hundred men, penniless, and facing countless difficulties such as wild animal attacks, food shortages, and the spread of disease.
"This book details how he selected the site, planned the layout, organized manpower to reclaim wasteland, build fortifications, dig water sources, and develop production."
Rifis's voice carried a hint of emotion.
"It even includes detailed records and unique insights into issues such as how to cope with harsh natural environments, how to unite local people, and how to maximize the use of resources when resources are scarce."
He closed the book, turned his gaze to the crowd again, his eyes firm and full of confidence:
"How similar is our current situation to that of John when he established the Forest Province? We are both in a desolate place, starting from scratch, and facing external threats. The experience and methods in this book can save us a lot of detours, and can even be directly used as a reference."
Gorkas leaned over for a look, then pursed his lips:
"Can this book really be that useful?"
Even so, the disdain on his face lessened somewhat.
"of course."
Griffith smiled slightly and put the book away.
"Repairing the castle, clearing the site, finding water, reclaiming wasteland... I already have a plan for the difficulties ahead. As long as we follow the methods in the book, step by step, each doing our part and working together, it won't be long before this place becomes an impregnable fortress."