Before long, the nobles who had just gone to sleep found themselves back on the city walls.
Everyone was silent after they arrived. It didn't take much thought for them to figure out the Beastmen's obvious objective.
But figuring it out was one thing; whether they could do anything about it was another matter entirely.
Sometimes, a situation was just that hopeless. You knew the enemy's goal, and you knew their methods, but you were powerless against them, forced to watch as they dragged you into the abyss step by step.
"This can't go on," Robson was the first to speak. "I propose we set up rotating shifts to handle this crisis."
"I have been the beneficiary of everyone's kindness these past few days," Robson announced. "I am willing to shoulder the defense for a full day myself. My only request is that while my troops are resting, the walls must not fall!" 'Although he wanted to farm experience, his Soldiers weren't robots; they couldn't go without eating, drinking, or sleeping.'
'This was the best possible proposal. He'd get to farm experience points and earn the goodwill of the other nobles. A win-win!'
Just as he'd expected, his words caused every noble present to gasp.
Some of the more shame-faced among them were already feeling a pang of guilt.
"I never imagined Sir Robson was so dedicated to the greater good. Previously, I thought..." the Baron who had run into Robson while they were setting up camp said, looking ashamed.
"Indeed, perhaps we should..."
"There's no need for any of that," Robson interrupted, stepping forward with a righteous air. "I, Robson, have been a great beneficiary of your kindness. In this time of crisis, how could I possibly stand aside and look out only for myself? The greater good is at stake, and there is no room for hesitation."
'Are you kidding me? As if I'd let you guys snatch my experience points.'
Robson had already done the math. If things kept progressing at this rate, his Cavalry might even reach the fourth tier!
And then, Lord Robson's 'strategic retreat' would be all the more guaranteed.
Of course, the other nobles were oblivious to Robson's little scheme. They simply exchanged glances, a shared look of shock in their eyes.
In the end, they all came forward one by one to state their names and family names, expressing their profound respect.
The Frank Kingdom had not yet become as utterly corrupt as the human kingdoms to the south. Its people always held true warriors in the highest esteem.
If a warrior charged into battle for the sake of the kingdom and for them, all Franks would grant him their utmost respect.
Watching this group of nobles—whom he usually dismissed as a disorganized mob—offer up their family names made Robson feel a little sheepish.
This ritual was a common one, and its meaning was clear.
By telling Robson their family names, they were, on behalf of their respective families, formally acknowledging him. In the future, should he face any minor troubles, they would not be stingy with their aid.
For a noble, this was tantamount to truly being accepted into their circle. This was especially true for a semi-established noble like Robson. It could be said that Lord Robson was now a Knight with his own network of connections.
In the future, his family would no longer need to exist under the shadow of the Odogin Family. People respected him not for the family at his back, but for who he was as a person!
"There is no need for this, everyone. I am merely doing my duty," Robson replied, returning their salutes.
'He felt a little guilty, but the show had to go on.'
"Since Sir Robson has the fortitude to defend the city alone, I certainly can't fall behind," Baron Oli said from the side. "I only have 200 battered soldiers left, but I entrust them all to you, Sir. I, Oli, am also at your disposal."
Robson's eyes lit up. He'd just gained another 200 Soldiers.
"Since Baron Oli has spoken, I can't fall behind either. I will take responsibility for your logistics during the battle, Sir..."
"I have a dozen or so Cavalry left..."
After Baron Oli got the ball rolling, the other sirs, unwilling to be outdone, not only took care of all of Robson's logistical needs but also gifted him a pile of fresh recruits.
Robson was, of course, beaming. Although each family only sent a few dozen soldiers—some as few as ten or so—the sheer number of families meant it all added up!
In just that short time, Robson had gained another 300 Peasant Soldiers, plus more than 50 rookie Frank Cavalry.
Although this batch of Peasant Soldiers was green, after Robson drilled them for a couple of days, they would immediately become the cornerstone of his burgeoning enterprise.
....
'Since I've already made such a bold proclamation,' Robson thought, 'why not just move my camp right up against the city wall?'
'Since the enemy has chosen a war of attrition, they won't be able to breach the city anytime soon. I don't need to keep thinking about how to escape. This is a perfect opportunity to farm some more reputation.'
No sooner said than done. As expected, when he proposed the idea, he was once again met with the respectful gazes of the nobles.
Robson ascended the city wall, completely satisfied.
Events unfolded just as Robson had predicted. He had only just reached the wall when he saw a huge horde of goblins rushing toward their position from a distance.
Robson went to operate a Magic Crystal Cannon himself to gain some experience. After firing a few shots, he quietly pocketed the Magic Crystals from inside the cannon. 'It's a shame West City isn't equipped with Magic Crossbows...'
"KILL!"
Before long, a swarm of red-eyed goblins, led by a group of Gray Dwarves, charged the city wall.
Unfortunately for them, they were met with the unerring shots of Frank Skilled Shooters, all elite soldiers equipped with at least a full set of leather armor.
The goblins' wooden clubs probably couldn't even break their armor. Only the ones who were Extraordinary could pose any real threat to Robson's army.
Robson and Bo Yang weaved through their ranks, hunting for these Extraordinaries. Whenever Robson found one, he would take them down with a perfectly aimed shot.
As for Bo Yang, who knew who the kid had been learning from lately, but now he fought by calling on nearby Soldiers to help him 'righteously' gang up on the Extraordinaries, completely devoid of his former knightly honor.
Knight Ed wasn't on the city wall; he had requested to guard the rear courtyard.
Battle cries filled the air on the wall, and a constant stream of system notifications filled Robson's mind.
"Ding! A Frankish Peasant has successfully killed a goblin slave. Experience +50."
"Ding!..."
Toward the end of the fight, there were hardly any Extraordinaries left on the field. Robson stood on the wall, pinning a goblin to the ground with his foot, and practiced his archery by aiming an arrow at its head.
The other Soldiers formed small squads, guarding the stairwell entrances and waiting for the goblins to charge up.
Watching the scene unfold, Robson was suddenly struck by a strange feeling. 'Why does this feel like some low-quality, idle browser game?'
Whenever the goblins retreated, the nobles below would personally bring food to Robson. Not only were his army's rations not being skimmed, but they had actually become much more plentiful.
The battle raged from morning until noon. Robson spent the entire day standing there, grinning like an idiot as he stared at his unit progression panel.
So far, only a few dozen of his original Peasant Soldiers remained, and he had just over 300 militia.
His initial batch of Cavalry had now fully advanced to the third tier.
'At this rate, won't I be able to farm here until my entire force reaches the fourth tier?'
At that thought, Robson almost wanted to meet whichever Beastman general was in charge of attacking the West City Gate. If he ever got the chance to kill the man himself, Robson would be sure to burn a few extra sticks of incense for him as thanks.