Building an empire which the sun never set-Chapter 44: Breaking Fasi’s Will

Arthur entered his war tent and sat at the wooden table at its center. His mind reeled from the thousands of corpses he had just witnessed strewn across the battlefield. The horror of it all weighed heavily upon him. For an hour, he remained in stunned silence, attempting to process the scale of destruction he had orchestrated. Even now, a lingering sense of shock gripped him. But he knew the war was not over yet. There was still more to be done.

He straightened himself, pushing aside the turmoil in his mind. A battle had been won, but the campaign was far from finished. Resolute, he called for the soldier stationed outside his tent. The soldier entered swiftly, standing at attention, offering a crisp salute. Arthur returned it with a nod before issuing his command.

"Summon the senior officers and generals at once. We must discuss our next course of action."

The soldier saluted once more and exited to carry out the order. As Arthur watched him leave, his thoughts turned once more to the larger war at hand. The Aragonese army had been utterly annihilated. The enemy had no means of sending further reinforcements without jeopardizing their own borders. He knew they had no choice but to negotiate. Arthur would force them to the peace table, ensuring that the Maraz Strait remained under Pendralis control along with other strategic demands.

But the war was not just about Aragon. Arthur's mind shifted to the Fasi Kingdom. Would they continue fighting now that Aragon had been decisively defeated, or would they, too, seek peace? He was uncertain. However, with the Aragonese threat eliminated, the pressure on Pendralis forces had significantly lessened.

Yet there was another issue—the army's dwindling supplies. Unlike medieval armies that required little beyond food for their men, Arthur's modern military relied heavily on a steady supply of ammunition, spare parts, and countless logistical materials. Every battle saw the expenditure of hundreds of thousands of rounds of ammunition. Without resupply, their war machine would grind to a halt.

Arthur suspected that the Fasian commanders had no understanding of just how dependent his army was on logistics. But they would learn soon enough. News of Aragon's defeat would reach them within weeks. Until then, Arthur had a narrow window of opportunity to act. He had to use this time wisely—to pressure the Fasian forces into lifting their blockade of the strait and force them into a peace deal.

An idea formed in his mind.

Just then, his summoned officers entered the tent. Arthur pushed aside his thoughts and focused on the men before him. The high command of the Pendralis army stood at attention, offering him a formal salute. Arthur returned the gesture and gestured for them to sit.

"Gentlemen," he began, "before we move forward, I want to commend each of you for the decisive victory we have achieved today. We did not merely defeat the Aragonese—we obliterated them. In a matter of hours, their grand army was reduced to nothing."

The officers, still riding the high of victory, exchanged satisfied nods and smiled as they congratulated one another. But Arthur's expression remained serious.

"However," he continued, "though we have won a great victory, the war is not yet over. Aragon is finished, yes. They can no longer continue this war. But the Fasian Kingdom still holds the entrance to the Maraz Strait under blockade. And, as you all know, this battle has depleted our supplies.

"Both Aragon and the Fasian commanders are unaware of how much ammunition we expend in battle, nor do they realize the extent of our logistical dependence. But they will soon discover it. Before that happens, we must force them to lift the blockade and accept peace."

General George nodded gravely. "You are correct, Your Highness. If Aragon were to learn of our low ammunition reserves and the lack of immediate resupply, they might find the courage to attempt another offensive. We cannot allow them to act before we secure a peace agreement with Fasi."

Arthur leaned forward, eyes sharp with determination. "Time is against us. My proposal is simple: we send three warships from the Pendralis fleet stationed at the entrance to the White Sea. Their target will be the Fasian stronghold at Arakas—their largest port city and the heart of their naval power. We will bombard their docks and shipyards."

The room fell silent. Then, murmurs of agreement rippled through the ranks.

Arthur continued, "By now, the Fasian commanders should be receiving word of Aragon's defeat. Once they witness the destruction of their own harbor, they will understand what awaits them should they persist in this war. They are already hesitant to send ground troops against us. If we frighten them enough, they will withdraw their fleet and sue for peace. That will buy us the time we need to fully resupply and solidify our control over the Maraz Strait."

The generals exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. The plan made sense. While they could theoretically march deeper into Aragonese territory, their lack of munitions made further offensives impossible. And with part of their fleet required to maintain naval superiority, they could not afford to send their warships against the ocean blockade. This plan, then, was their best option.

Arthur turned to his adjutant. "Dispatch a courier to the harbor with my orders. A ship will carry my directive to the fleet, instructing them to proceed with the bombardment of Arakas."

The adjutant saluted and quickly left the tent to carry out his task.

With the order given, Arthur turned his attention back to the generals. They began discussing the finer details of the ongoing campaign.

One matter of importance was the fate of the Aragonese survivors. Pedro Arias and a hundred knights had managed to escape the slaughter, while only 4,500 Aragonese soldiers had surrendered. Most of them were gravely wounded, and many would not survive the night.

Arthur ordered that their identities be recorded. In this era, noble prisoners were valuable bargaining chips—ransoms for their return could fetch a significant sum. The lower-ranking men would be dealt with accordingly, but the aristocrats among them would be used to further Pendralis' advantage.

As for Pendralis' own casualties, their losses were astonishingly low. Only seventeen soldiers had perished, with 184 wounded, most suffering minor injuries. Nearly all of these casualties had been inflicted by the small group of Aragonese knights who had miraculously broken through the defensive line. Though most were cut down before they could inflict major damage, a handful had managed to take seventeen lives before being subdued.

Arthur made a solemn vow that those fallen warriors would not be forgotten. He decreed that a monument would be erected in Pendralis to honor their sacrifice, ensuring their names would be remembered for generations. Additionally, financial compensation would be provided to their families.

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With that decision made, Arthur exhaled slowly. The battle was over, but the war was not yet won.

And he would see it through to the end.