Chương 255: 255： Open the Vaults, Feast Until You Burst

Standing behind a massive boulder, the battlefield recording scholar, Lucia, furiously scribbled on her parchment with frost-stiffened fingers, desperate to record this historic moment. Her azure eyes were wide with absolute awe and reverence.

"This is practically a miracle in military history..." Lucia screamed in her mind. Absorbing an elite, battle-hardened military force entirely intact, right across national borders! Lucia keenly realized that with the addition of these eight hundred fearless barbarian warriors, the overall military might of Soren's forces was about to experience an astronomical, terrifying leap! His faction was rapidly metastasizing in this chaotic, war-torn era!

"However..." Lucia closed her ledger. Stepping forward with a trace of concern, she whispered a warning:"Commander Soren, this unit is still officially on the Ironpeak Duchy's military registry."

"If you march them away so openly, and the Ironpeak Duchy decides to pursue the matter, the Human Alliance Military Court will slap you with the crime of abducting allied troops." Faced with Lucia's grave concern, Soren merely let out a cold, mocking sneer. He turned his head and looked at the Steppe chieftain.

"Talon, please inform our esteemed scholar... what exactly is the current status of the Ironpeak Duchy's barbarian garrison stationed at the Broken Blade Mountains?" Talon was a rugged man of the steppes, but he was far from stupid. He immediately caught onto Soren's implication. A profound, bone-deep hatred for the Ironpeak Duchy surged within his heart.

"Lady Scholar, please record this truthfully for history." Talon turned to face Lucia. Pointing at the charred ramparts and the mountains of corpses littering the pass, he announced in a loud, booming voice, his teeth gritted in sheer fury:"Due to the Ironpeak Duchy main army's refusal to send reinforcements and their severing of all rations..."

"The former three-thousand-strong Steppe Barbarian garrison serving under the Ironpeak Duchy has been... entirely... ANNIHILATED in the Broken Blade Mountains pass during last night's Orc assault!" With a violent tear, Talon ripped off his tattered surcoat bearing the crest of the Ironpeak Duchy and viciously stomped it into the bloody mud.

"The men standing before you now are nothing but homeless, desperate wanderers utterly abandoned by the human defensive line!"

"We stand here as free commoners, voluntarily seeking asylum and enlisting under the banner of the Greywater Village territory!" Lucia froze. A sharp gasp of cold air caught in her throat. What a brilliant political loophole! Legally speaking, the barbarian forces of the Ironpeak Duchy were dead. Greywater Village was merely taking in a group of wandering free commoners they found in the wilderness!

Even if the Grand Duke of Ironpeak was furious enough to pop a blood vessel, as long as he didn't dare openly declare war on Soren, he would have no choice but to swallow this bitter humiliation in silence!

"Soren... you are not just a master tactician. You are a terrifying man who plays political rules like a fiddle," Lucia thought, unable to hide the deep-seated wariness and respect in her gaze.... At high noon. Soren ordered the camp to be broken. The main forces of Greywater Village, escorting a large number of wounded Steppe warriors, embarked on the long march back to the Misty Swamp. After a grueling trek, the horizon of the swamp—perpetually shrouded in grey miasma—finally appeared before them.

For many of the Steppe warriors stepping into this infamous death zone for the first time, a heavy wave of unease washed over their hearts. However, the moment they passed through the layers of concealed magical arrays and truly set foot within the borders of Greywater Village, every ounce of their apprehension instantly transmuted into mind-numbing shock!

"By the Eternal Sky... is this the domain of the gods?" Sangho's solitary eye bulged to its absolute limits, his jaw hitting the floor. What appeared before them wasn't some squalid, mud-filled refugee camp. Towering, sturdy high-stilt wooden cabins were lined up in perfectly neat, orderly rows. Geothermal blast furnaces spewed roaring, blinding flames into the sky, where shirtless blacksmiths sweated profusely, hammering out fresh weaponry.

In the distant fields, mountains of vibrant green, acid-resistant [Swamp Tubers]—their staple crop—were piled high! The rich aroma of roasted wheat and the heavy, mouth-watering scent of stewed animal fat wafted through the air, causing the stomachs of these men, who had been starving for months, to rumble like thunder. But what was even more unbelievable was the absolute order and stability of the place. Human commoners, half-elves, and even goblins—everyone had their place, everyone was working.

Their faces beamed with genuine hope for the future. There was absolutely none of the terror or helplessness of living day-to-day that plagued the outside world!

"Incredible... this is an incredible sanctuary!" Talon muttered to himself. He finally understood why Soren had dared to make such monumental promises.

"The Lord returns victorious!" With Soren's arrival, the entirety of Greywater Village erupted into jubilation. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Soren vaulted off his horse. Wasting absolutely no time on pleasantries, he immediately shifted into a highly efficient, post-war logistical state.

"Fina!"

"At your service, My Lord!" The head of internal affairs, Fina Hawthorne, quickly stepped forward. Soren pointed at the eight hundred-plus ragged, hungry-eyed barbarian men standing behind him and issued his absolute logistical decree:"Open the vaults! Release the rations!"

"Mobilize the logistics warehouses immediately! Issue every single new Steppe brother a brand-new set of heavy [Gambesons]!"

"Tell the kitchens to butcher our entire stock of Ironclad Earth Dragon meat! Boil it down into the thickest, richest meat stew, pair it with refined sorghum, and let these men eat until their bellies burst!"

"At once!" Fina immediately saluted and rushed off to execute the orders. Before long, handcarts loaded with brand-new, thick gambesons and gleaming [Black Iron Half-Plate] armor were wheeled out. When Talon, with trembling hands, received that thick gambeson smelling of fresh sun-dried cotton, and strapped the impregnable black iron half-plate over it, this iron-willed man—who bled but never cried—actually let out a choked sob.

"Armor... we finally have our own iron armor..." Countless barbarian warriors clutched their new gear, weeping and laughing like madmen. Then, grabbing massive wooden bowls, they ravenously shoveled the steaming, fat-rich meat stew down their throats. It was the first full, hot meal they had eaten since leaving the northern steppes! As for the critically wounded lying on stretchers, Soren's arrangements shook them to their very souls.

"Kyle! Lord Victor!" Soren personally led his Chief Quartermaster and Chief Mage into the triage zone.

"Use every method at your disposal! Treat them with everything we have! Remember, they are soldiers of Greywater Village now. I refuse to let a single one of them die to wounds or infection!" What happened next became a memory the Steppe warriors would never forget for the rest of their lives. Victor, a Silver-tier Mage, spared absolutely no mana. The soothing blue light of his [Mass Hydro-Healing] spell washed over the wounded in large swathes, rapidly closing their festering gashes.

Meanwhile, Kyle, utilizing his [Herbology Mastery], personally pried open the jaws of those teetering on the brink of death and unhesitatingly poured [Minor Life Resurrection Potions]—each vial worth dozens of gold coins—straight down their throats!

"This... this magic... these potions..." Talon watched in absolute shock as several of his brothers, whom he thought wouldn't survive the night, miraculously stopped bleeding. Their wounds scabbed over visibly, and their breathing steadied. He was stunned beyond words.

"Chief... Lord Soren really did it... He really treats us like human beings!" Sangho wiped tears from his face. Absolute equality! It wasn't just an empty political slogan. Soren had flawlessly honored his vow with cold, hard coin and precious resources!... Three days later. Inside the Greywater Village Supreme Command Cabin. The conditions of the wounded had stabilized, and the refitting of the new recruits was complete.

Now, it was time to seamlessly integrate this massive surge of combat power into Greywater Village's war machine. Soren held a newly compiled personnel roster drafted by Fina.

"836 Steppe barbarian soldiers... how do I maximize their combat potential?" Soren's brows furrowed slightly, his mind racing with tactical permutations.

"Men of the steppes practically grow up on horseback. They are masters of the bow and saddle; their talent for mounted archery is in their blood." Soren looked up, his gaze landing on the master archer and Longbow Battalion Commander, Ein.

"Ein, I've decided to select fifty of the most sharp-eyed, heavy-armed shooters from the Steppe recruits and draft them directly into your Longbow Battalion!" Joy erupted across Ein's face.

"Excellent, My Lord! With these natural-born archers, combined with my training regimen, they will undoubtedly become the most lethal ranged killers on the battlefield!" Soren nodded, though a trace of regret lingered in his heart.

"It's a damn shame," he sighed inwardly.

"Every single one of these Steppe men is a natural archer. If I could equip them all, the density of our ranged strike capability would be apocalyptic."

"But the harsh reality of logistics is that the total number of usable Imperial Military Longbows I've captured or produced caps out at exactly one hundred." Fifty original members, plus fifty Steppe sharpshooters. The Longbow Battalion could only be expanded to a maximum of one hundred men. The hard cap on high-tier equipment strictly bottlenecked the expansion of their ranged firepower.

"Furthermore..." Soren turned his head, looking helplessly at Buck, the Commander of the Wolf Cavalry.

"Buck, these Steppe warriors are actually the most perfect candidates for the Wolf Cavalry. They instinctively know how to soothe a mount, and they know exactly how to execute devastating slashes at high speeds." Hearing this, Buck practically vibrated with excitement, taking a heavy step forward.

"My Lord! Then assign them to me! Just give these boys a wolf, and I swear they'll turn the Orc rear lines completely upside down!"