072 The Lizardmen’s Long-Term Plan

“You’ve only gotten half of it right. For the other half, you’ll need to listen to me carefully,” Morgan declared. His words instantly captured the attention of every lizardfolk present, and the previously noisy hall fell silent.

“First, we must set our sights on the broad direction—the path to power for our people, the lizardfolk,” he began. The stage was set, the lighting and atmosphere perfect, and Morgan, standing amidst his kin, launched into a passionate speech.

“If you rely on a mountain, the mountain may collapse. If you lean on a tree, the tree may wither. We must put our faith in ourselves and pursue a path of unyielding self-strengthening! Every great empire is forged in war and built from the blood of generations. So, the very first step on our road to greatness is to forge a mighty army!

“Right now, under the protection of the ratfolk, we flourish and grow, but what if, one day, these rats are no longer as powerful as they are now—or worse, are utterly defeated? We must possess the strength to defend ourselves!

“To the south of us, on the Chakalk grasslands, two powers remain in a fragile ceasefire—a delicate balance. But! One day, that balance will be broken. One civilization will rise, sweep across the grasslands, and unify Chakalk. Once that happens, their next move will surely be to march north and strike into the Norsen Plain!

“Time is not on our side. We urgently need a powerful, battle-hardened, and fearless self-defense force—this is the foundation upon which our future rests.”

“Agreed!”

“Absolutely!”

“Morgan is right!”

The lizardfolk leaders around him echoed their support, lending their full strength to Morgan’s vision.

“So, as things stand, we absolutely cannot allow the ratfolk to fall—we must send troops to reinforce them. But! There is a right way and a wrong way to render aid—whether we arrive when they need us most or merely add our efforts to their glory makes all the difference. If we enter the fray too early, we’ll merely be cannon fodder. If we choose our moment wisely, we maximize our gains.

“Our intervention serves two main purposes. First, to help the ratfolk repel the invading humans. Second, to temper our own forces in the crucible of war, forging an army of steel.”

“Exactly! This is our chance to reshuffle the deck!” Frank exclaimed, his spirits lifted. Though the road ahead was perilous, at least it was no longer shrouded in uncertainty.

“In the long run, our priorities are twofold. One: strengthen the army and defend our nation, forging our troops in war—this is our most urgent task. Two: maintain the balance of power on the Chakalk grasslands. Our value to the ratfolk lies not merely in holding the southern line of the Norsen Plain; that would be naïve. We must be ready to strike proactively, to intervene in the south and keep the grasslands’ forces in check. If another great conflict breaks out, we must support the weaker side to maintain the balance. Ultimately, it comes down to our strength—our bargaining chips—the military power we hold.”

With a sweeping gesture, Morgan clenched his fist in the air, his impassioned words setting the blood of every lizardfolk present aflame.

“According to our latest intelligence, the human coalition west of the Tam River will join forces with the dark elves of the Fagon Forest to launch an assault on Highcourt.”

At most, in fifteen days, war will erupt!

“Our tasks are clear: integrate our forces, and...”

Morgan suddenly turned to Xiang Rong, who had remained silent throughout, and bowed respectfully. “Chieftain! I request your permission to immediately prepare a million units of grain for shipment to Highcourt!”

A wave of astonishment swept through the hall.

“Your reasons?” came the question.

“First, the ratfolk face dire straits. By sending food, we show our unwavering loyalty—they will know we are steadfast allies, bound to share both fortune and peril. Second, as they stand under immense pressure, our support will bolster their morale at this critical hour.”

Morgan’s reasoning was crisp and compelling.

“Frank!” Xiang Rong called to the elder. Though Frank’s thinking was sometimes narrow, his straightforwardness and diligence had earned the chieftain’s trust.

“At your command!”

“Prepare a million units of grain, and add ten wagonloads of arms. Set out before sunset tomorrow.”

“Yes, Chieftain!”

“Roger!”

“Yes!”

“Select a thousand warriors to escort the convoy—take a covert route, and beware of the dark elves to the east.”

“I understand!”

That clan council was so heated, it lasted into the next morning. From that day forth, Morgan formally entered the political stage of the lizardfolk tribe.

...

Early next morning, three hundred kilometers north of Highcourt.

The forces of the human alliance had fully assembled. Xue Hui gathered the lords in a room for a brief war council. As supreme commander of this expedition, he announced, “Our combined army is ready. Though Zhang Wenyuan could not join us, his fifteen hundred soldiers have arrived on time.”

“Cai Yuanliang’s supplies are being ferried across even now—they’ll be done today.”

During this preparation period, the three warships that Feng Wanqing had recalled in time, along with Wu Fan’s sole surviving St. George, were tasked with the transport.

The Tam River here was only a hundred meters wide, so the four warships didn’t make for the most efficient ferries.

“We’re fielding ten thousand five hundred soldiers, and with logistics staff, that makes about eighteen thousand,” Xue Hui continued. Their division of labor was clear—Feng Wanqing, his staunch supporter, was in charge of logistics.

“With our current stores, this war must end in two months, or our supply lines won’t hold,” Feng Wanqing added.

“Two months—subtracting the return trip, that leaves a month in the field. That’s enough,” Xue Hui replied, his tone cool, betraying none of the tension of impending battle.

“Boss, I’m coming with you this time! I want revenge. I’ve left the town to my deputies—just give me a command!” Wu Fan insisted, unable to swallow his resentment any longer. In half a month, he’d emerged from his gloom, and when he heard his leader would help avenge him, he was overwhelmed with gratitude.

But ever since his forces had been nearly wiped out by the ratfolk on the Norsen Plain, his standing in the “Valiant Rangers” guild had plummeted.

In these dark times, military strength was the only real power—such was reality.

“No problem. You’ll command Zhang Wenliang’s fifteen hundred—though be warned, this time you must follow orders to the letter!”

Without hesitation, Xue Hui handed over Zhang Wenliang’s fifteen hundred expendable troops to Wu Fan.

“Understood. Just watch me!”

The fifteen hundred soldiers from Zhang Wenyuan were all the old, weak, or infirm—barely scraped together, led only by a single squad captain. In other words, they were meant as cannon fodder, with no hope of bringing many back alive. Zhang had done his bit for the expedition and nothing more.

Xue Hui: How’s your preparation?

Feng Wanqing: My troops are ready and standing by.

Liu Wei: Same here, I arrived a day early.

Xue Hui: Jin Li!

“Here!” A short, sturdy dwarf rose from behind Xue Hui, his long brown beard nearly covering his entire face. Jin Li was Xue Hui’s lucky star, having followed him through dozens of campaigns, and now commanded five thousand dwarves, second only to Xue Hui himself.

“Order the army—cross the river in one hour!”

“Yes, sir!”

Jin Li departed quickly.

“You all get ready. The whole army must be across within two days. Dismissed.”

When the others left, Xue Hui opened the system’s chat channel.

Xue Hui: In ten days, my troops will be at your gates. On your end...

Tian Wenhao: Understood!