A month had passed since the hills of Wessex drank the blood of the eastern vanguard.
Within the walls of City Titan, Ragnar stood before a massive table, examining the latest logistical ledgers.
The immediate threat of the Tang expeditionary force had been neutralized, their decimated ranks fleeing back to the sea under the cover of darkness. Yet, Ragnar felt no complacency. Victory in a single siege was merely the opening move in a much larger geopolitical equation.
He picked up a piece of chalk, drawing a sharp line through a column of projected casualty figures.
The ironclad defense of Wessex had proven the supremacy of his modern artillery and primitive matchlock rifles. However, Ragnar was a pragmatist.
A sovereign could win a battle with five hundred elite grenadiers, but he could not occupy a continent with them. To hold territory, secure trade routes, and project continuous authority across the fractured kingdoms, the Iron Empire required mass.
