章 143: Chapter 143: Trap
The red-haired Tristan stood firmly at the doorway, blocking any chance of escape. As soon as Vortigern laid eyes on Tristan, he turned to glance at King Marko with an exasperated expression.
"Well," Vortigern began, half-laughing, "you couldn't beat Altria. You couldn't best my niece, Morgan, and certainly not my son-in-law, Lott. Now, here's your nephew, Tristan—care to try your luck again? Or will it be another defeat?"
King Marko sighed, resigned to his fate. "No, I can't beat him either," he admitted frankly.
By the third day, the opponent was neither Altria nor Tristan. Instead, it was Galahad taking the field. Unsurprisingly, King Marko couldn't defeat Galahad either.
But this consistent rotation of knights slowly made Vortigern and King Marko realize that Lott and Morgan were not bluffing. The forces they were facing weren't a mere ruse—they were genuine and formidable.
"I don't care where these soldiers came from," Vortigern muttered, "but they're here and in large numbers."
Despite this acknowledgement, they held off on any rash decisions for the moment. Back inside the castle, Lott and Morgan observed the activities of Vortigern's army over the past few days, their smiles growing wider with each passing day.
"When we lack strength," Lott said confidently to Morgan, "we have to act strong—make them fear us first. We're like a paper tiger; the key is not to let them see through our façade."
Morgan nodded. She understood Lott's strategy well. Their goal was to make Vortigern hesitate long enough for them to gain the upper hand. As they spoke, a messenger entered, bringing with him a piece of intelligence. Lott skimmed through the information, and a wide grin spread across his face.
"Excellent," he said to Morgan. "Our next move is ready."
For the next several days, Vortigern and King Marko watched as Lott sent out Altria, Galahad, and the others to challenge them, day after day. Each time, it was a fresh rotation of knights, and each time they returned victorious, leaving Vortigern's forces in disarray.
However, after days of these skirmishes, Vortigern began to sense that something was off.
"Why do they only send out a thousand soldiers at a time, day after day?" he mused aloud.
King Marko shrugged. "So?"
"So," Vortigern said, his eyes narrowing, "we might have been deceived."
He turned to look at the castle, watching Galahad taunting them from the walls. Without warning, Vortigern gave the command.
"Prepare the entire army! We're going to attack Lott's forces in full force!"
At his command, tens of thousands of soldiers took up their weapons and charged toward Galahad's position. Galahad, realizing he couldn't face the entire army head-on, quickly retreated toward the castle, with Vortigern's forces hot on his heels.
As they approached the castle, Vortigern spotted Lott and Morgan standing on the ramparts, calmly watching the oncoming army. Next to them, Tristan was playing a serene melody on his harp, seemingly unfazed by the chaos unfolding below.
Lott smiled down at them. "Come on in," he called, his voice ringing out confidently. "Our castle only has a thousand soldiers. You're welcome to try and take it."
Vortigern glared up at him, irritated. He'd been tricked before, but not this time. Without hesitation, he ordered his troops forward. "Attack! The whole army, forward!"
He wasn't going to fall for Lott's trickery again. He was convinced that this time, Lott was trying to bluff them with his supposed confidence. But Vortigern was done being suspicious. This time, he would crush them all.
It must be said, that after suffering several humiliating defeats at the hands of Lott, Vortigern's thinking had evolved. He now questioned everything, constantly wary of trickery. But seeing the open gates of the castle, he felt certain that this was no trick. He'd outthought Lott this time.
In the past, he would have suspected an ambush—he would have believed that the moment his troops entered, they'd be surrounded and attacked from all sides, turning their advantage into a crushing defeat. But not now. Now, he believed he was one step ahead.
"They're trying to scare me with an empty threat," Vortigern thought. "But I won't fall for it."
King Marko, however, was less sure. He looked at Vortigern sceptically. "Are you sure there's no ambush waiting inside?" he asked.
Vortigern scoffed, dismissing Marko's concerns. "I've thought it through. Lott is bluffing. We'll take this castle without any trouble."
King Marko, convinced by Vortigern's confidence, readied his weapon. "Very well, I'll capture Lott with my own hands."
With that, Marko charged at the walls, followed by a wave of soldiers pouring through the open gates. As they breached the outer wall, Vortigern watched expectantly, believing that Lott would soon panic.
But Lott's expression remained unchanged. He still wore that same confident smile, even as King Marko reached the top of the wall and engaged him in combat. The two clashed swords, but it was clear to Vortigern that Lott was in control of the fight. In just a few more strikes, Marko would fall.
Vortigern was confused. Why was Lott still smiling? Surely he should be panicking by now. Unless...
Suddenly, Vortigern's heart sank as a terrifying possibility crossed his mind.
Meanwhile, Lott continued to easily hold off King Marko. Compared to the pressure of fighting skilled knights like Galahad and Altria, this was nothing. He glanced at the soldiers streaming into the castle. It was time to close the trap.
He raised his hand, signalling to his forces. It was time to harvest the enemy.
Poor Vortigern must think he's outsmarted me, Lott thought to himself. But in reality, he's only fallen deeper into my web.
As the enemy continued to pour in, Lott prepared for the final strike. Vortigern had believed he was on the third level of strategy, but in truth, he had never even left the ground floor.
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