Too optimistic. Where this confidence came from, Hudson couldn't tell, but he felt that everyone around him was brimming with an inexplicable self-assurance, as if quelling the rebellion was as easy as reaching into a bag to grab something.

  However, after reviewing the Skull Society's track record, Hudson had nothing to say. As a long-standing cult organization in the Kingdom of Alpha, rebellion was practically routine for the Skull Society.

  Every few years, they would unch an uprising. Each time, they would start strong but eventually colpse, never achieving anything significant.

  Almost every seasoned noble had personally participated in suppressing the Skull Society's rebellions. Facing a group of perennial losers, it was understandable that confidence was high.

  Given their history of failure, it was no wonder Count Piers had initially dared to let them stir up trouble. If it weren't for the involvement of the Blood Moon Horn, everyone would probably still be arguing.

  From the reactions of the crowd, it was clear that most people harbored doubts about the "Blood Moon Horn." Hudson was no exception. After the initial shock, he began to suspect that Count Piers had fabricated the story to divert attention.

  After all, the "Blood Moon Horn" was sealed in the Papal State, guarded by the Judgement Knights. How could a bunch of rats from the Skull Society steal it?

  Even if it had been stolen, wouldn't the Papal State have reacted in some way?

  Such a scandal, if exposed, would be too much for the Church to handle.

  Forget everything else—would they still be able to collect tithes? Would they still be able to sell indulgences?

  From the reactions of the clergy in the southeastern province, it was clear that the Church took the Blood Moon Horn very seriously. As soon as the news broke, even before its authenticity was confirmed, priests and temple knights had rushed to the scene.

  In past human civil wars, the Church had always remained strictly neutral. Even if you paid a hefty price to hire a few priests, they would only treat injured nobles.

  Hudson didn't care about the truth. The Church's involvement was undoubtedly a good thing for the alliance, as it meant greater security for everyone.

  Even if the news turned out to be false, it would be Count Piers who had to expin it to the Church. The bme wouldn't fall on a small-time knight like Hudson.

  In Hudson's view, assigning the Fifth Army to transport supplies wasn't entirely a punishment.

  After all, someone had to be responsible for the supplies. Among the five armies, the Fifth Army was the weakest, making it the most suitable for the task from a strategic perspective.

  Not only did this serve the greater good, but it also helped divide the small and medium-sized nobles. From Count Piers' perspective, it was a win-win situation.

  Listening to the others vent their frustrations, Hudson chose to remain a quiet observer. While transporting supplies wouldn't earn him any glory, it was at least safe.

  Regardless of the other units, his Tenth Regiment wasn't fit for the battlefield. Even in a race to the bottom, the Tenth Regiment was one of the worst in the alliance.

  After adding six hundred serf soldiers, the army's combat effectiveness remained stagnant. The fact that they hadn't regressed was only because the soldiers had seen blood.

  To become an effective fighting force, they would need either extensive training or to be thrown into the crucible of battle.

  Perhaps because Hudson seemed too carefree, or perhaps because he was tired of being berated by his subordinates, Chelse turned to him and asked, "Hudson, what do you think?"

  Hearing the question, Hudson's heart sank. If it weren't for the setting, he would have loved to retort, "I'll sit and watch."

  "Commander, what's done is done. Discussing it now won't change anything. We can't alter the Governor's decision.

  The order to transport supplies has been given. All we can do is try to earn some military merit while carrying out our task."

  Hudson had originally pnned to say "earn some benefits," but seeing the grim expressions around him, he quickly changed it to "military merit."

  From the moment he received the order, Hudson had been thinking about how to maximize his gains. Forcing a poor man like him to transport supplies was practically pushing him to rebel.

  If he didn't skim a little off the top, wouldn't that make him seem incompetent?

  From the start, Hudson hadn't expected to lead a ragtag group to glory on the battlefield and achieve legendary feats.

  "Easier said than done. Military merit isn't so easily earned."

  Whether he hadn't caught the subtext or was just being argumentative, Baron Brogitt immediately shot back.

  Rolling his eyes, Hudson decided not to argue with a hothead and replied with a smile, "Uncle Brogitt, the Governor only ordered us to transport supplies. He didn't say we couldn't take on side jobs.

  The rebels now control two counties. They can't possibly gather all their forces in one pce, can they?

  With the main rebel force tied down by the other four armies, their rear will be vulnerable.

  While completing our supply mission, we can easily recapture a few rebel-controlled towns."

  Hudson's words lit a spark of hope in the previously despairing crowd. Recapturing a few rebel-controlled towns might not be a major military achievement, but was that really the point?

  The real goal was to seize the wealth the rebels had accumuted. For nobles, there were only two reasons to go to war: military merit and profit.

  With little hope for military merit, the only option was to focus on profit. To boost his allies' morale, Hudson had gone to great lengths.

  In Dadier City, the birthpce of the rebellion, the once bustling streets were now desote, swept by the autumn wind.

  Conquering territory and governing it were two entirely different things. Unfortunately, as a cult organization, the Skull Society had no concept of governance.

  In the city lord's mansion, a group of high-ranking Skull Society members gred at each other, the atmosphere thick with tension.

  "High Priest, shouldn't you expin the heavy losses at Fort Ethel?"

  The man in the purple robe at the head of the left side was the first to voice his accusation.

  "Expin? What kind of expnation do you want?"

  "You..."

  The cold response from the gray-robed elder left the purple-robed man speechless. The tension in the room grew palpable, and it seemed a fight was about to break out when the masked figure at the head of the table interrupted:

  "Enough! You are all high-ranking members of the Society. Arguing like children—is this appropriate?

  However, while Imann's words were harsh, he is right about one thing. The High Priest does owe us an expnation for the battle at Fort Ethel."

  Hearing the masked figure speak, the previously arrogant gray-robed elder quickly changed his tone and expined, "Holy Master, I was too greedy in the battle at Fort Ethel.

  I assumed that the nobles, accustomed to infighting, wouldn't have their reinforcements arrive on the same day. I pnned to lure out the Crimson Knights and annihite them under the city walls using the power of the sacred artifact.

  I didn't expect the enemy's reinforcements to arrive so quickly, catching us off guard.

  However, we didn't come out of this battle empty-handed. While we suffered heavy losses, most of them were cannon fodder. Using these cannon fodder to exchange for the enemy's..."