Chapter 885: Act 61 – A Message for Xi
In the wilderness south of Anzeruta, bordering Baltar, the landscape is dominated by dark rocks, with sparse vegetation and snow accumulation at higher altitudes that lingers year-round. Below, the terrain is a tundra grassland composed of sparse leadwort or similar shrubs, dotted across a surface reminiscent of volcanic ash. A majestic fortress stands between two dark peaks, its walls crafted from square stones, exceeding sixty feet in height. The flags of the Empire flutter atop the four watchtowers, allowing easy surveillance of every valley within a ten-mile radius from these towering structures. The observation rooms are equipped with rotating ballistae and wizards, supported by over a company of crossbowmen, capable of repelling aerial invaders from the arrow slits of the towers.
The fortress also houses an air force, with the stationed border battalion utilizing griffins and wyverns, alongside elite pegasus knights who ascend the skies at the first sign of enemy presence, guarding the airspace above the fortress.
Brendel withdrew his gaze from the enormous iron cages on the walls, which housed griffins serving as the air force of the fortress’s early warning system for reconnaissance and interception. Not far from those cages stood a towering immense gate, more than fifty feet high, opening in the middle, made entirely of cast iron. To forge this iron gate, Cruzian artisans assembled pre-cast iron components, then melded them with magic from the wizards. The purpose of constructing this gate was to fully leverage the impact of the ground dragoons stationed within the fortress; inside the Black Sword Bastion, two regiments of ground dragoons are stationed, ready to form ranks behind the gate when the Cruz need them, launching attacks against enemy forces outside the fortress.
The flat slopes outside the Black Sword Bastion were also artificially leveled, previously a steep valley, but filled by Duke Sempli to appear as it does now.
The Business Lady stood beside him, clutching his arm tightly with her small hand while gazing up at the majestic fortifications. She slightly parted her lips in awe, exclaiming, “It’s so high, Brendel.”
“The Black Sword Bastion’s outer walls were raised during the Year of Radiance. Before that, the main wall’s height did not exceed thirty-five feet in most areas, hardly different from the walls of Menterros. In the Year of Frost, the highlanders led by the Lord of Longblades, with the support of the Erluin people, managed to capture it. By the Year of the Tiger Lizard, the Cruz reclaimed this fortress, and thereafter began the reconstruction of the stronghold. The fort’s restoration took place over thirty years, intermittently, and it was only finished prior to the Summer Year when Duke Sempli completed this sloped approach,” Brendel shared his knowledge with her. This information was nothing new to a seasoned player, yet Little Romain appeared entranced as she listened. She had never heard about these events before, but from the earnestness in Brendel’s voice, she sensed he was clearly knowledgeable, inciting a mix of vanity and curiosity in her as she asked, “Can anyone really capture this place, Brendel? With walls so high, how could they possibly climb over?”
“Though the Black Sword Bastion is not the most fortified stronghold in the Empire, it ranks among the top in the southern regions for height and depth. Historically, this city has indeed been captured twice by the Erluin people. The first time was during the war when the late Emperor Eke aided the highlanders in conquering Anzeruta. The second time was more recent, about a hundred years ago during the Walnut Rebellion, when the highland knights of Baltar seized this stronghold after repelling the Empire’s invasion,” he explained, noting QiYala’s interjection, as she seemed to overhear their dialogue, she commented coldly, “That was during the peak of the Colcovian dynasty, but unfortunately they were still too weak. If it were me, I wouldn’t have returned this fortress to the Cruz; I would have either handed it over to the Lionmen or the Wind Elves. That way, the kingdom wouldn’t face threats from the north.”
Brendel chose to ignore the childish remarks. He noticed that others in the embassy also displayed curious expressions, clearly interested in this topic, and nodded before responding, “Indeed, the Black Sword Bastion was originally established during the Year of Tides in the Age of Chaos and completed at the start of the First Era. It has only twice been captured in its history, both times by the Erluin people.”
“That’s because other nations wouldn’t go out of their way to attack the Empire through Erluin,” QiYala retorted.
The curious fat man, Afram, interjected, “Captain, do you mean Erluin actually managed to defeat the Empire?”
“What do you mean by that?” Brendel was taken aback.
“I mean, Captain, how could Erluin possibly win against the Empire? You must be mistaken,” the overweight man exclaimed as if he had heard a ridiculous joke.
Brendel nearly choked on his own irritation. He replied curtly, “Why would you think Erluin has never defeated the Empire?”
He was at a loss for words at this guy’s historical ignorance. Setting aside the numerous battles fought in the last few centuries—though the Cruz Empire is formidable, they are not invincible, and tales of Erluin people’s victories abound. Just less than five months ago, he had solidly defeated the Empire’s expedition fleet at Ampere Seale at the Temple of Fire, yet this guy remained oblivious. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated, questioning what sort of nonsense this guy had been learning in Karasu as the scion of a noble family.
Yet Afram remained oblivious, raising his hands in defeat, “But the Empire is so vast, and Erluin is just a small border nation; it doesn’t even compare to one of the Empire’s provinces. How could we ever defeat them? Captain, you say we Erluin people have beaten the Cruz, but I don’t believe that. Such tales are often just minor skirmishes blown out of proportion into tales of victory. I’ve seen that in Karasu; my friends in the patrol cavalry often do just that; they take small victories and exaggerate them. Clearly, the glory proclaimed by the royal family is for maintaining their legitimacy of rule.”
To compare the already outdated patrol cavalry of this era to the highland knights of the Walnut Rebellion is a rather avant-garde perspective, and Brendel could not help but admire the guy’s thinking style. He couldn’t resist replying, “If that’s the case, then what do you think allows us to stand here today representing Erluin at the Empire? The Cruz would never ask their provinces to send envoys to pay tribute to their Emperor.”
Afram clearly had not considered this question, caught off guard by Brendel’s inquiry, furrowing his brow in contemplation. Just then, the daughter of Duke Vieiro—a girl of seventeen or eighteen—spoke up cheerfully, “I think that’s because the Empire has no need for such a poor and remote place like Erluin. Besides our kingdom, aren’t there many kingdoms and duchies under the Temple of Fire? The Empire has never waged war against them, right? My teacher often tells me that if the Empire truly wished, Erluin would have become an autonomous region like Anzeruta a long time ago, and we would all be nobles of the Empire. Lord Earl, am I right?”
“Right your head,” Brendel thought, but upon observing the expressions of others within the embassy, he found that except for the outsiders like Romaine, Medisa, and Himelam, most seemed to sympathize with this view. Of course, those truly knowledgeable about the kingdom’s history, such as Charles and QiYala, showed clear signs of disdain, and what piqued Brendel’s curiosity was that he also spotted similar expressions on Juliette’s face.
At this moment, QiYala finally couldn’t hold back any longer. As a former royal family member, maintaining the kingdom’s legitimacy also protected her family’s honor. She coldly mocked, “So, from the Year of the Dragon’s End, the battles between the Empire and the ancestors of the Erluin, it seems to be quite a show, so that the Erluin people could gain independence from the Empire and establish our own kingdom. The Cruz nobles really have this spirit of helpfulness; they sent the late Emperor Eke respectfully out of our borders. We should be grateful to them, right?”
Her sharp sarcasm startled everyone, and it was only when Afram realized he had inadvertently offended her that the daughter of Duke Vieiro manages to stutter, “Wasn’t that because the Wind Elves helped us?”
Brendel watched QiYala’s face darken with ire and shook his head, puzzled as to when the kingdom’s nobility had lost their backbone—during the time when the highland knights of Baltar still existed, during the Year of the Walnut, the Empire had never posed much of a problem for Erluin. The true issue rested on whether the Erluin people dared to fight; that was all. He couldn’t help but think of Aibodun, who stood as a white knight alongside a highlander from Baltar. Since then, it seemed that generations of Erluin nobles had inexplicably lost that spirit and could no longer raise their heads before the Cruz.
However, he hadn’t anticipated how utterly ridiculous the nobility’s perceptions of the Cruz Empire had become. When Afram first spoke, he thought it was merely an exception since this fellow was clearly an idle son, the typical ignorant type. But when the daughter of Duke Vieiro voiced her thoughts, he sensed something was off. This young lady, while generally displaying average knowledge, was evidently educated, and seemed to have a grasp of foreign affairs and etiquette. It was clear she understood the kingdom’s history, yet like Afram, she did not seem to embrace it.
These histories bore significant differences from what they saw now.
He shook his head a second time before addressing his nominal subordinates, “Though the Empire is powerful, it does not lack enemies; Erluin is small, yet the Empire cannot focus all its energies on us. To the Empire’s north is Fanzan, to the east are Saint Ausoor and Madara, to the west are Hazell and Toquinin. With so many foes, the Empire cannot afford to delegate an entire province’s power against us. Moreover, to the south lies Anzeruta. Since the time of the Lord of Longblades, highlanders have aspired for independence for nearly seven centuries. If we do not disrupt, the Empire is already grateful; how could they dare to easily start a war from the south? Thus, the Empire actually prefers to maintain this complex relationship of both enmity and friendship with us. On one hand, the honor of the Empire means they are still unwilling to recognize Erluin’s founding, and on the other, they are incapable of exerting real influence in the south. Even during the Walnut Rebellion, our adversary was merely a Duke of Walnuts; we were, in fact, aiding the imperial forces in quelling the rebellion.”
“The status of Erluin is so sensitive and unique that neither the Wind Elves nor the Empire dares to act recklessly. It is with this fragile balance that the late Emperor Eke found Erluin’s own path.” At this point, he glanced at QiYala, “It seems King Anson had long understood these secrets too, which is why he returned the Black Sword Bastion to the Cruz after the Walnut War. Once that balance is broken, it may not be beneficial for Erluin.”
Brendel then turned to the others, speaking slowly and deliberately, “Thus, Erluin does not need to defeat the entire Empire, but that does not mean Erluin has no chance of victory. Great nations possess great power, and small nations possess great wisdom. I tell you these things to make you understand that the Kingdom of Erluin holds its unique advantages, and its nobles and citizens need not view themselves as lesser in front of the Empire.”
Upon hearing this, QiYala could not help but huff softly, evidently having been aware of this knowledge long before and seeing no need for Brendel to reiterate.
As for the others, including Afram and Duke Vieiro’s daughter, most were hearing this perspective for the first time, leaving them dubious.
However, Brendel did not require their absolute belief; he merely wanted to alert these noble sons and daughters, so they wouldn’t disgrace him, the Grand Captain, with a fawning demeanor before the Empire’s nobility.
As the group continued their conversation, they gradually approached the Black Sword Bastion. At that moment, a commotion ahead suddenly drew everyone’s attention; the noise began with a regimented sound of marching followed by the heavy sound of hooves. The members of the embassy then spotted a small detachment of imperial soldiers appear in their view, led by three or four knights, who opened a smaller wooden gate beside the enormous gates of the Black Sword Bastion, lowered a drawbridge, and charged out—those knights shouted orders, commanding their subordinates to charge toward a merchant caravan outside the fortress.
Notably, at this time of year, aside from the conspicuous noble caravan belonging to Brendel, numerous merchant groups were gathered outside the bastion. As one of the only two gateways between the Empire and Erluin, the Black Sword Bastion served not only as a military stronghold but also as a vital transportation route between the two nations. Throughout most seasons, except for the two months in the Depths of Winter when the rear mountain roads were entirely frozen, caravans frequently traveled through here, and now, the soldiers’ targets were evidently an Erluin merchant convoy.
They swiftly crashed into the caravan, taking down guards wielding weapons first, then forcing the merchants out of their wagons, binding their hands behind their backs, and toppling them onto the ground. Subsequently, the imperial soldiers returned to the convoy to cut the ropes securing the goods on the carts, tossing the cargo onto the ground piece by piece. In no time, they uncovered several people from those wagons—men and women, old and young—who were herded together, most dressed in rags, trembling in the cold wind. The women and children were crying loudly in fear, whereas the imperial soldiers remained coldly indifferent, with a few sporting cruel smiles.
Brendel initially thought he had stumbled upon an exaggerated story reminiscent of bandits or soldiers, yet quickly realized it was far from that. Before he could voice his thoughts, Lady Eynid, the daughter of Count Gray Mountain, had already turned pale, trembling as she watched the scene unfold and could not help but ask in fear, “What’s going on here?”
QiYala merely pursed her lips at the sight, unwilling to respond.
Among everyone, it was the daughter of Duke Vieiro, who had some awareness, as she quietly explained to the others, “Those people are refugees.”
Upon realizing this, Brendel finally understood that since the fall of the Frost Party in Erluin, the kingdom had been in turmoil, with the internal strife portrayed throughout the realm manifested as warfare. The conflicts between the royal family and local nobles were but a small part of the violence. As the central authority began to weaken, tensions among local lords grew sharper, whether due to territorial disputes, population, or support—small and large conflicts persisted incessantly. This situation was not as severe in the south—partly owing to Madara—yet following the battle at Ampere Seale, the north was temporarily overseen by the king’s eldest son, while to the north of Siphai, the nobles appeared to have suddenly lost order. In regions affected by the Colcovian royalty, Siphai royalty, Wind Elves, and the Temple of Fire, war seemed to become an everyday necessity.
Accompanying these conflicts was a surge of refugees; a small portion was accepted by Duke Toniger, but most flowed northward toward the Empire. For the Empire, this was a matter of some concern, as the refugees sought places to earn their living, and while the Empire was pleased to accept this labor force, the increasing numbers brought complications and burdens. The paths of migration of these refugees overlapped with populations already present, and the Empire’s nobility could not accommodate all the laborers, thus the remnants of the idle populace gradually became a public safety concern. Over time, as the influx of refugees threatened local interests, they became synonymous with being unwelcome within the Empire; henceforth, the Cruz began to refuse the entry of these refugees.
What transpired before them was evidently such a scenario.
“Big sister, what will happen to them?” Among everyone, the youngest, a little girl from the Golan-Elsen household, was frightened as she watched the scene unfold and asked.
“They will be treated as thieves and vagabonds, tied to posts as a spectacle, and then sent back…”
The expressions on the faces of the Erluin noble offspring turned somewhat awkward.
“How embarrassing; these wretches have made our kingdom lose face,” Afram could not help but mutter resentfully, “No wonder imperial nobility always acts superior in front of us.”
