Pioneer Lord: I Have Conquering System

Cross leisurely cut a small piece of beef with his knife and fork, savoring it carefully.

This Marquis of the South had experienced something in his youth.

Back then, a farmer on his father’s land got into a dispute over the ownership of an ox. The other party was an old farmer who served a neighboring Lord, one with whom his father had a tense relationship.

Both sides insisted they were right, each claiming the ox was theirs and calling the other a despicable thief. Lacking any definitive proof, the matter reached a stalemate.

From Cross’s perspective at the time, the worst-case solution would have been to simply compensate the farmer who didn’t get the ox with an equivalent sum of money.

But he never expected the situation to escalate as it did. His father arbitrarily awarded the ox to his own subject, and the other farmer went crying to his Lord to complain.

The bitter consequence of this was an armed clash between the two Barons, which resulted in the deaths of several hundred people.

Only afterward did he understand that the dispute over the ox was merely a pretext for the clash. The true reason was that his father had long coveted a fertile, irrigated field belonging to the other Lord. So, once his own power surpassed his rival’s, he engineered the entire affair.

From that day on, Cross understood a principle: weakness is a sin, one that invites endless trouble. And so, with firm resolve, he went to Gonda to study at the military academy.

And eating beef became a part of his daily routine, a ritual to ensure he would never forget this lesson.

"The enemy Casters do have the advantage, putting us at a disadvantage in terms of long-range attacks." He wiped his mouth with a white napkin, his voice calm and steady. "Therefore, it’s only natural that we’ve fallen into a difficult position. There is no need to worry."

The clatter of knives and forks came to an abrupt halt. The crowd of noble officers immediately stopped what they were doing to listen intently.

Struggling with only a paltry six Casters on their side—and with two of them currently missing—they were completely overwhelmed when trading Magic bombardments.

It got to the point where they had given up trying to block the enemy’s bombardment. Whenever the enemy’s Magic Power recovered and they prepared to attack, the soldiers could only find cover and lie low, suffering miserably under the barrage.

The result was that many Northern Soldiers were able to scale the walls. Trying to reclaim them would come at a great cost.

In their eyes, the problem was simply unsolvable. Noble Casters weren’t like weeds by the roadside; you couldn’t just conjure them out of thin air. But the Old Marquis had always told them not to worry, and now, it seemed the time had come to reveal the solution.

"The enemy Casters are vigilant enough, always Casting their Magic from outside the range of our Bed Crossbows. But they seem to have overlooked one thing: the Priests from the Earth Mother Goddess Church are masters of the Earth Element. And a Caster doesn’t necessarily need to unleash powerful Molding Magic to prove their worth."

A rare smile appeared on Cross’s face. As the officers exchanged confused glances, he continued, "As of today, our Priests have finally finished digging a tunnel that leads close to the enemy Casters’ position. And inside it, they have set up a sufficient number of Bed Crossbows!"

All who were listening gasped in disbelief, unable to trust their own ears. Then, seeing the smile on the Old Marquis’s face, they erupted into an uproar of sheer excitement.

Before, they hadn’t understood. Their Casters were already at a disadvantage, so why would the Old Marquis pull two Priests away? Now that they knew the reason, they were filled with nothing but admiration.

"My Lord, then why didn’t you have all the Priests build the tunnel and excavate enough space for the Bed Crossbows? It would have been much faster."

A high-ranking noble now appeared as humble as an Apprentice eager for knowledge.

To be honest, the tactic wasn’t particularly profound, but no one else present had thought of it. Only the Old Marquis had.

"First, if we had no Casters show up to offer resistance, it would have definitely aroused their suspicion, greatly reducing our chances of success." Cross calmly stroked the Ring on his thumb. "Second, two Priests were actually enough. If we had sent more, the token resistance on the walls would have been too weak, and the enemy would have grown suspicious."

"In short, we only have one chance. So we must be extremely cautious in everything we do. The details determine success or failure!"

Everyone was deeply impressed.

"Why did I let those Ice and Snow Mages’ Snowbirds fly freely above the castle? Why did I have four Earth Priests go up on the walls to bestow blessings on the soldiers?" He scanned the room like a rejuvenated lion. "When you know exactly how many enemy Casters there are, and you see them on the walls, what do you do?"

"You would focus all your efforts on suppressing the enemy Casters to help your own soldiers ascend the walls." The admiration on the noble’s face was now impossible to hide.

"Exactly. And that is our opportunity!" Cross gave a slight smile.

"Their strength is immense, crushing us. Therefore, they will be arrogant, proud, and look down on everything. They will believe what they see with their own eyes and won’t bother to look deeper!" The voice of the Old Marquis, a man past fifty, was still resonant. He spoke at almost a shout. "Gentlemen, we are indeed weaker than the enemy. That is undeniable. But do not despair! Because of this, we have gained humility, caution, and the habit of treading carefully! And now..."

"First, the troops we’ve positioned on the walls are merely conscripted Militia. Our elite Warriors are unharmed. The enemy has already grown arrogant and let down their guard!"

"Second, the enemy knows nothing of the arrangements we’ve made!"

"So now, we wait." Cross’s old yet resonant voice instantly became calm and measured again. He smiled. "We wait for the sweet sound of the Bed Crossbow strings, and then..."

"Counterattack!" the noble officers roared in unison.

The power contained in their voices seemed to make the table tremble slightly.

...

"Heather, who’s stronger? You guys or that group of Ice and Snow Mages?"

Levi sat by the fire, nibbling on melon seeds as he curiously asked the question. He watched the dozen or so Ice and Snow Mages floating in the sky, gathered together to cast their Magic.

As a Magic Muggle, his only way of judging a Caster’s power was by the strength of their Magic.

For instance, Sam, who only knew the Healing Technique and the Stone Skin Technique, was definitely at the absolute bottom of the hierarchy.

Heather was wearing a black, hooded robe. In the past, to hide her identity, the Zor Elf Priest had always concealed her appearance, even when appearing briefly before outsiders.

This led the northern officers and soldiers to believe she was just a woman the Lord had brought along to blow off some steam, and they were all secretly dying of envy.

Now that there were no outsiders, the Zor Elf finally took off her hood, revealing pointed ears and a face beautiful enough to take the breath away from any Northern Lands soldier who hadn’t seen a woman in months.

"The Magic Power within those two old, white-bearded men is very dense, almost at the level of a High Tier Mage. They probably control even stronger Magic. As for the rest, some of them are about on par with us." Heather wasn’t boasting; she was stating the facts.

In fact, due to the Magic Tide, the classification system for a Mage’s Level is no longer very detailed. Nowadays, they are generally ranked from low to high as Apprentice, Tier One, Middle Tier, and High Tier.

The standard for judgment is the concentration of Magic Power in their bodies.

This determines what kind of powerful Magic one can practice; after all, the stronger the Magic, the more Magic Power it consumes.

Levi nodded, quite satisfied with this.

He never expected his High Cliff Castle Casting Team—a slapdash crew—to be a match for the enemy’s formally trained Priests.

He was content as long as they could compete with the enemy’s mid-level members.

Besides, with the empowerment of his System Power, the High Cliff Castle Casting Team would become visibly stronger.

’But gotta say,’ Levi thought, looking at the tempting cluster of Ice and Snow Mages, ’they’re all huddled together like little chicks. It would be a crime not to hit them with a Bed Crossbow or a Catapult; it’s like they’re serving themselves up on a silver platter.’ He then shook his head. ’Then again, these Ice and Snow Mages aren’t idiots. They’re far from Black Stone Castle, completely outside the range of any Bed Crossbows or Catapults.’

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