368. Honor and Dishonor (2)
Unlike Phaeirn, where most of the land is flat, Dane was a country with rugged mountainous terrain spread evenly across its territory.
This was the reason the Knights of the Round Table were born. With limited farmland and pastures, the people had to cultivate the dense forests and rugged mountains, inevitably facing resistance from the wild.
Nature is never kind to humans. From wolves and saber-toothed tigers to ogres and trolls that had settled in the region, and even cursed beings born from the mysteries of nature.
The nation’s founder, King Knight Dane, was born during this time. Moved by the suffering of his people, he drove out the giants ruling the plains, the monsters in the forests, and the wraiths roaming the mountains to establish his kingdom.
Those who admired his life and took up the sword, those who survived to the end and completed their knightly training, were called the Knights of the Round Table. The Round Table Council of King Dane was formed with this background—
“Draw your swords.”
According to this ancient tradition, the Dane Royal Family and all its knights had a duty. Always stand against injustice, always protect the weak, always show compassion for the fallen.
“Knights of the Royal Family, draw your swords!”
This duty was called the Oath of the Round Table, and the journey taken to fulfill this oath was called the Pilgrimage. Those who undertook the Pilgrimage were called knights, and the initial mindset one must have to become a knight was called chivalry.
“Those who can fight, draw your swords! Those who have drawn their swords, look at your burdens! And look at the knights standing beside you, shoulder to shoulder!”
Vicente’s voice echoed across the plains. Thirty thousand people had gathered here. Magus were using magic to project Vicente’s words above their heads.
The young King Knight’s cloak floated and swayed on its own. A wind that was anything but natural blew. A wind created by humans. A culmination of human effort and life, condensed into magical energy, became the wind itself.
-Kiiing……!!
Vicente drew his sword and pointed forward. The knights’ gazes followed. In that direction was a burned burial ground. Charred remains and collapsed corpses lay beneath unburned poles. The burial sites stretched across the plains like a long scar.
Within that long scar, which could be called a valley, were charred corpses, flies swarming around them, and rats and crows scavenging for rotten meat. A red sunset was setting behind the cloud-like flock of birds.
“Show compassion for the weak. It is not the condescension of the arrogant, but the service from the humblest position. It does not mean to sacrifice yourself for others’ lives. It means to stake your life on the value of standing upright as a human being. Such an oath flows through my blood. What about you? Do you have such an oath?”
The Phaeirn Pilgrimage Expedition was nearing its end. In truth, they had gained nothing. This vast land was plagued by unimaginable tyranny and slaughter, and every city had welcomed Vicente’s advance.
Breaking through enemy lines without a single battle, Vicente realized. These people were bypassing them to invade their homeland. It was already too late to turn back. For every moment they advanced, the enemy had done the same.
“Some might say, ‘These are not our people!’. Others might say, ‘This is a meaningless waste of our nation’s strength to feed the enemy!’. They are right! We are staking our lives on seemingly meaningless values and small hopes, chipping away at our collective will! But!”
-Kwang!
Vicente turned around and struck the ground. The military flag he held high fluttered in the wind.
“When our ancestors founded this nation, were there borders that created the people? No! It was the lives of those who lived for everyone they could reach, despite being scorned, starving, and dying, that became this nation. What about you? At this moment, when your territories are burning under foreign invasion, do you wish to return to your homeland? Or! Do you wish to advance for those who are burning, starving, and struggling under spear blades before your eyes!”
The knights remained silent at Vicente’s words. In truth, Vicente felt the morale of the expeditionary force had hit rock bottom. While not ignoring each individual’s will, the fact that they had not deserted despite their homes burning and their families and people being ravaged proved their resolve.
Thus, as king, he had only two choices. To retreat or to continue advancing.
Phaeirn was now suffering under the demons’ rampage. Zigismund’s slaughter and scorched-earth tactics had set the entire nation ablaze. How many would die? And how could they sustain this expedition without logistical support from the rear?
It wasn’t just about provisions. Soldiers consume vast resources just by moving. Their meals, the upkeep of their horses, the replenishment of consumable weapons. There was no way to sustain such massive military expenses.
Phaeirn was parched, and Dane was under attack. The small kingdoms had declared their neutrality in this civil war, and his forces were gradually being depleted. Without a single battle!
Vicente had to make a decision at this point. He had to present a new vision to the knights whose morale was falling and discontent was rising.
Confusion spread among the knights. They began murmuring about the expedition’s failure and the army’s disbandment. The sight of these towering men, their helmets hanging low, looking at him with thick skepticism, was evident.
These men were lords, landowners, and family heads before they were knights. The tragedy before their eyes was clearly a symbol of injustice, but it was strictly a foreign problem. And now, the invaders who had caused this tragedy were trampling their homeland.
Everyone here imagined the tragedy in Phaeirn happening to their own flesh and blood, and their expressions grew heavy.
Vicente carefully observed each of their faces as he chose his words. How could he blame them? Merely being here, not deserting to return home, made them truly honorable knights.
He sincerely thanked them, knowing he was their king, their sovereign, the only man who had earned their loyalty.
“I see your thoughts. You are worried that this tragedy could happen to your parents and children, your people and their descendants, or perhaps it already has. I feel the same. My flesh and blood, my family, are waiting for me beyond the border in Altberth! And the enemy will not stop advancing toward Altberth’s walls even at this moment.”
Vicente’s eyes burned with determination.
“If you return, if you leave to protect your families, who would blame you? A knight who advances toward the enemy’s forces, prepared for the dishonor of the expedition’s failure, is undoubtedly more honorable than anyone! Not only your flesh and blood, your people, but no one in Dane would dare blame you!”
At his words, Baimeer made a strange expression. Was the king now encouraging them to desert? But Vicente spoke firmly.
“However, I command you to advance instead! I command you to fulfill your oaths! I declare that I will be your last tyrant! Listen. Your ancestors drew their swords not only for their flesh and blood, their people, but for all humanity! So go forth. Even if you cannot save everyone in this world, you knights who have sworn not to refuse the hands of the weary and the sick. Go forth! Fulfill your oaths!”
A cold silence lingered among the knights. What their king was saying now was akin to asking them to abandon their families and accept the kingdom’s downfall. How could they follow such words?
One knight, with intense eyes, stepped forward and spoke.
“Then, Your Majesty, are these lives so precious, while the lives of the people being ravaged in Dane’s territories are worthless?”
It was an extremely rude tone, but no one present dared to point it out. Vicente simply nodded calmly and said.
“These lives are as precious as my people. That is my judgment.”
“We cannot follow those words!”
“I am your king, and a king must support his knights before giving orders. So follow my words. I will bear your worries and your dishonor.”
His words caused a stir among the knights. Dishonor would mean the expedition’s failure and retreat. The story of knights who drew their swords for honor, only to return without success to protect their territories, wouldn’t even sell in a street romance.
It was cheap.
That was also the reason why the knights dared not desert or leave the military camp. For the knights, retreating for any reason was a great dishonor.
“I will go. As the last tyrant of the Dane Royal Family, I will seize your duties! I will seize the duty to protect your homes and territories, the duty to be loyal to the king and to lay down your lives on the battlefield! I will strip away the duty of lords and fathers who must bear dishonor! Therefore, let there be only honor for you. As a knight, let there be only honor for you!”
“Your Majesty, if you please…”
“I leave for your flesh and blood, your families, and your people. You will be true to your honor. Therefore, advance. Do not worry about the mountains and rivers of Dane, advance! I alone will bear your worries. As the king of Dane, and as your king. I will retreat for the people of Dane.”
Silence fell over the assembly once again. But it was not a condemnation of the king, but rather being overwhelmed by the spirit of sacrifice that left them at a loss for words. Retreat was dishonor, and he was willing to face the enemy alone in retreat.
Was it possible? Could the king alone face the thousands of soldiers and achieve victory? No, it was impossible. In a war where armies clashed, the bravery of a single man was merely a decoration.
But there were lords present. Knights of the Round Table and their vassals. Each one was a ruler of a city or town. They instinctively understood what Vicente was trying to say.
The gazes of the monarchs met. They silently scanned the chaotic assembly and realized what they had to do. They quietly nodded to each other, knelt one by one, and shouted.
“Vicente!”
“Vicente!!”
They chanted the king’s name, inciting the assembly. As if this were a great sacrifice, and truly an honorable act. Those who understood the king’s intent mechanically urged their vassals and soldiers to chant the king’s name.
‘My king, I will not forget that I was your knight.’
‘It was my honor to have been your lord.’
Such glances passed between the lords and the king. Vicente nodded briefly, and soon the lords of each city began to urge their soldiers to leave the ranks one by one.
Watching them all depart in their own directions, Vicente finally burst into laughter. After a hearty laugh, he let out a long sigh from his saddle.
Only two knights remained. Baimeer and Palliamain, the two Round Table knights who had served him since the war with the Church of the Underground Burial, stayed by his side until the very end.
“And you?”
“What can I do? It was my wish to die before Your Majesty.”
“This is no joke. There is no chance of survival. I am leaving to die.”
“I know. I know.”
Baimeer smiled kindly and patted Vicente on the back.
“You have made a noble decision.”
“It was the only way to save the kingdom.”
“It was a cunning plan, one that I could hardly imagine Your Majesty would devise. Did someone give you a hint?”
“Someone? Ah… are you talking about Albert? No.”
Vicente chuckled and shook his head. But he had to admit that for someone who had sworn not to tolerate injustice, it was a highly political strategy.
To understand Vicente’s actions, the knights had to first grasp a few political and diplomatic positions.
The main force of Phaeirn would be sweeping through the Dane Kingdom. Although it was unclear how the soldiers and civilians of each territory had moved, or whether they had fled, the fact that no support requests or urgent messages had come from within the Dane Kingdom suggested that the kingdom had already fallen into enemy hands.
Turning the army around to defend their homeland would have been the worst possible move.
By the time they arrived, the enemy forces would already be prepared in Dane’s territory, and the exhausted expeditionary force of Dane would be shattered before the enemy.
Nor could they maintain their hold on Phaeirn. The land was already so devastated that merely holding it in enemy hands would be overwhelming. So what should they do?
At that moment, Vicente of Dane devised the best means available to him as king.
1. The knights remaining here were virtually the best of Dane’s national strength. They had to be preserved.
2. The war situation had already reached a point where the personal strength of the Dane Royal Family could not resolve it. They had completely fallen into the enemy’s trap.
3. Therefore, they needed support from other countries. But the small kingdoms were already struggling to defend themselves and had no capacity to intervene in other nations.
4. Moreover, even if they had the capacity, the Eastern Alliance had begun to sever diplomatic ties with the Dane Kingdom after the last imperial expedition.
The best course of action in this situation was to release Dane’s knights across the Eastern territories to solve the problems of the small kingdoms. At first glance, this might seem like a foolish act of disbanding the army, but—
“Isn’t that too slim a hope?”
“Doesn’t it depend on who is at the center?”
“I will protect not Your Majesty, but the prince.”
“Take care.”
Vicente laughed heartily and nodded. Yes, disbanding the army to help other nations in distress? Would the small kingdoms then help them oppose Phaeirn?
Of course not. The secular royal families of the Eastern Alliance were highly political and selfish creatures. They would not repay kindness with kindness. They would covet the military power of the knights of a fallen nation and try to win them over or detain them.
But Vicente was a guest of the Empire. He had supported two imperial expeditions and established his position within the Empire. As a result, he had lost his standing in the Eastern Alliance, but that also subtly altered his position within the East.
If he were to die in the war, the Empire would have a reason to intervene by declaring revenge.
If he died and the royal family did not end, and the war did not conclude, potentially dragging on into a prolonged conflict, the Empire’s legions would have a legitimate means to march eastward.
If the Empire were to learn that the small kingdoms had received support from Dane’s knights but did not help Dane, the Empire’s legions would later use this as a pretext to discuss the existence of the Eastern Alliance.
The Eastern Alliance was a group formed to counter the Empire’s influence. But at the same time, it was also a tributary state that paid tribute to avoid becoming a vassal of the Empire. They could never be free from the Empire’s influence.
The Empire, rapidly rebuilding under Empress Carvelier, and the Eastern Alliance, beginning to collapse under prolonged war and internal strife. If this structure were established, the balance of power would clearly tip in one direction.
If winter passed like this, the small kingdoms of the East would immediately face problems of food and trade. The Empire would not miss this opportunity, and the justification for the Empire to completely swallow the East would lie in the fall of the Dane Kingdom.
Therefore, support the secular royal families to strengthen the justification. The Empire would use his life as the first step to intervene in the East. The strategy Vicente devised in that brief moment was more political than military.
And his vassals. The Knights of the Round Table, realizing this, left to ensure the king’s death would not be in vain. Across the Eastern territories, scattered in all directions.
“As long as they survive, Dane will not perish. Each one of them is Dane.”
“Isn’t Your Majesty the same?”
“True. Isn’t it even more absurd then? If I am Dane, then my death becomes the means to save Dane. How paradoxical is that?”
Vicente laughed heartily and gripped the reins of his horse. At this moment when all the legions had disbanded and scattered in their own directions, the king who chose death to save everyone turned his horse toward the fallen kingdom.
Gaining nothing, even disbanding the expeditionary force with his own hands, fully bearing the stigma of being a tyrant who caused the fall of his homeland during the expedition.
It was a most honorable dishonor. The two Round Table knights made the sign of the cross as they looked at the king’s back. They soon followed the king on horseback.
* * *
Upon hearing this news through Piel, Fernandez immediately left the command center and launched an operation. He had Abel protect Altberth, while he personally commanded the northern army to crush the enemy’s core forces.
If King Vicente had brought the entire army back to Dane, it would not have been possible to prevent Dane’s fall. Upon hearing the news of their return, the Phaeirn army would have immediately prepared ambushes and maneuvers. An army returning from a distant expedition could not face Phaeirn’s main force.
But if they heard that Vicente’s legions had disbanded and the fallen king was returning alone, Zigismund would leisurely begin to occupy Dane’s territories.
Dane’s refugees would flock to Altberth and prepare for a siege, and Zigismund would enjoy the war as a winter hunting pastime.
Therefore, Fernandez’s task was clear. To cut off Zigismund’s fastest and strongest legions in advance and buy as much time as possible.
Until the Empire, or the small kingdoms, fully intervened.
Until one hero tragically fell and a new hero was born. For creating heroes required trials and adversaries, and he was more experienced in both than anyone else in this material world.
Fernandez briefly mourned the death of the great Knight King and rode to the battlefield. The next day, the Phaeirn Royal Griffin Knights disappeared from the map.
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