Chapter 200: Act 133 – Roman’s Second Plan (Part 1)
Living in the vast northern plateau of Erluin, the Gulk clan has a well-known legend – it is said that soldiers who are alone on the battlefield are favored by the Grim Reaper.
Van Nord also heard this legend. He was a knight recruited from the Baltar region in the north of the kingdom, coming from a local gentry family. Before joining the army, he had some skill in beast taming, and after enlisting, he naturally became a dragoon, part of the 34th squadron, which initially belonged to the southern army of the kingdom. However, the latter had long been shattered by the Madara Undead Army during this war, with even their commander, Count Binag, having perished. Van Nord’s unit waited in vain for signs of a ceasefire, only to witness the undead forces of Madara grow stronger day by day, while the noble lords behind them used the excuse that negotiations had concluded and the war was over, abandoning them without support.
Messages sent to contact the White Mane Legion and Count Anlek went unanswered, and conditions worsened daily. As the highest commander of the remaining forces of the 34th squadron on the southern front, Baron Kolyan wrote in his diary:
“The situation in the south is worsening daily. We don’t know where our brother units are scattered; the undead from Madara are attacking from all directions. We can’t reach anyone; it’s as if communication has ceased. Even retreat has become impossible. The nobles are going their own ways; by now, this territory has slipped from the kingdom’s control. Martha above, I hope to see the end of this nightmare in my lifetime—”
But none of this mattered to Van Nord anymore. He was shot down while on patrol over a human village destroyed by the undead and became one of those marked by the cold gaze of the Grim Reaper in the Gulk clan’s legend. Covered in blood, he raised his head and, in despair, saw rows of skeletal warriors surging towards him from the ruins of the village. Crushed beneath the corpse of his dragon, he could not move; the light crossbow in his hand was his only weapon. He raised his arm and shot an arrow at one of the skeletal figures.
The blessed bolt erupted in dazzling light, and one skeleton was turned to ash in the brilliance.
But after one white flash after another, more undead overwhelmed Van Nord’s vision—an emotion of boundless despair enveloped the young man. Was it a few months ago? Van Nord instinctively thought back—when they learned that Madara had split its forces to invade the kingdom, almost every soldier and noble had waited with a relaxed attitude to see how these dark lords from a backward, barbaric land would collapse from infighting and disorganization, just as they had in every previous joint invasion in history.
But the final result surprised each and every one of them. The advance of the Madara army was decisive, calm, and effective. In contrast, the kingdom of Erluin resembled a weary old man, sluggish and unable to cope. The kingdom’s former glory was long gone, and the country referred to by the seventeenth high priest of the Temple of Fire as ‘the Flame’s Edge, a paragon of ancient glory’ ultimately existed only in the annals of history.
After shooting his last arrow, the young man calmly discarded his crossbow and tightly gripped the necklace around his neck that bore his wife’s name. He raised his head, and a towering skeleton blocked the sunlight above him—
In its eyes danced the fiery soul flame.
“Farewell, father, mother, and dear Vanessa. I only hope you will remember your son and husband who fought here with many others to protect Erluin…”
“But this country sees no hope anymore…”
*
In October, the autumn air grew thick, and the plains along the Toniger coast were tinged with a pale yellow. Traveling along the rural highways, Brendel and his companions could already feel the palpable scent of war.
After his leather armor was torn by Alorze, Brendel simply sought out a tailor in a passing town to have a set of black long coat trousers made, adopting the demeanor of a lord. He now sat upright on his horse, surveying the surroundings, donned in striking white gloves, with a longsword with a silver hilt hanging at his waist, exuding the style of a young noble.
However, this was not out of a desire to indulge in nobility; it was merely a means to avoid trouble. After leaving the rolling hills of Shubli, the month-long journey had become increasingly mundane. Despite the crumbling law and order, the bandits around the towns were mostly composed of impoverished farmers. In contrast, Brendel’s party of ten or twenty, all well-equipped, resembled the offspring of nobles—those driven to desperation by poverty would hardly dare provoke them.
Nonetheless, Brendel couldn’t help but sigh at the sight of those deserted farmlands.
In fact, before leaving Shubli, the dragon girl Alorze had warned him that a Madara undead army was now encamped to the south of Toniger. This news coincided with the historical accounts Brendel knew—historically, the ‘Black Knight’ Instalung had stubbornly lingered in Rendener even six months after the armistice, drawn by the pleasures of pillage—furthermore, at this moment, the ancient kingdom had no time to spare.
As the month of October drew to a close, Brendel knew that the upper echelons of this ancient kingdom were beginning to stir, hidden currents burgeoning beneath the surface. He knew that Hamel, the eldest son of Obergo, was supported by the forces of Queen Anna, sister of Duke Seifer, and her rise in power effectively marked the beginning of the resurgence of the Seifer dynasty—supporters of the Corvado family within the royalist faction had differing views on this, especially due to her ambiguous relationship with the powerful Marquis Klug and eventually locking up the king together, thus laying the seeds of disaster.
In early November of history, the crown prince Hamel announced his coronation, officially igniting a schism within the royalist faction; the strong-willed regent princess Grifian would naturally not tolerate this quietly, promptly declaring to all nobles and knights of the kingdom from her own territory that Hamel’s claim to the throne was illegitimate. Those who supported her were naturally core members of the royal faction who had long harbored dissatisfaction towards the queen, as well as factions she represented among the elves.
By mid to late November, Duke Anlek declared support for crown prince Hamel, and at the same time, territories began to declare independence or turn on one another, leading to the outbreak of the civil war in Erluin. From this moment until two years later, this civil war fundamentally shook the foundation of the kingdom. While a brief period of revitalization followed, the kingdom had already lost the vital blood of new life and could not be reborn from the flames.
It can be said that the demise of Erluin had quickened its pace from this moment.
At this critical juncture, not many cared about what the ‘Black Knight’ Instalung in the south was up to. However, just because no one cared did not mean that the actual impact did not exist; entire villages in this region were migrating, leaving behind desolate areas. As they passed through those empty, silent hamlets, a distinct sense of bleakness could be felt.
But as they continued south, this bleakness gradually began to change—
Because they were soon approaching the core of Toniger—Firburh, and the road finally started to show signs of life. The ruler of Toniger was Baron Grudin, the third son of Count Rendener. Brendel was not unfamiliar with this name but would not say he was well-acquainted. At this time, the nobility was mostly indifferent and self-righteous—yet the lords were another matter; aside from sharing the nobility’s facade, they added harshness, cruelty, and exploitation of their subjects.
When Brendel and his company entered Firburh, they perceived this at once, or rather, their previously low expectations sank even further at this moment:
The first thing that came into their view were the residents living outside Firburh, composed only of those truly impoverished and of low status, sheltering in the unprotected outskirts. Generally, they were either farmers working outside the city or homeless refugees. The streets were flanked by dilapidated, filthy straw huts, and the men and women were scantily clad, gaunt, with dull, lifeless eyes, devoid of hope for the future.
Dust rose in the main road, and the dry air was filled with the stench of livestock manure. Compared to this place, even the bureaucrats of Bruglas, generally dogmatic, slow, and self-satisfied, seemed charming; at least in those places, citizens, though of low status—could still survive.
However, like those who sprang from barren lands with a mean disposition, the more barren the land, the more they demanded. Brendel understood that this disparity was not due to the nobility of Golan-Elsen being kinder but because, under the same exploitation, the land of Toniger was more desolate, and its people were thus more unbearable.
Antinna, once a noble lady, observed all this and couldn’t help but cover her mouth, feeling disbelief.
“Lord, the territory you are to inherit… is in such a place?” she asked, unable to hide her disappointment.
She had originally thought that after leaving the mountain people’s autonomous region, the east coastal Toniger should be a land of prosperity; proximity to the sea meant thriving trade, and thriving trade meant wealth. Even if it wasn’t as affluent as Ampere Seale, it should at least be comparable to Bruglas, right?
To her surprise, it turned out to be such a bleak sight.
Brendel was also taken aback, as he hadn’t told Antinna that the mercenaries from Lubis were actually his summoned beings, causing the girl to feel unnecessary sadness and self-blame once. Since leaving Shubli, at least a month passed, and Antinna had been addressing him in a businesslike manner, lacking the pleasantness she once showed him, mostly responding with rolled eyes.
Though the noble lady had always positioned herself as his aide, Brendel thought this was not the attitude a subordinate should have towards their lord. Nevertheless, he naturally wouldn’t bring it up, as he wasn’t shameless enough to use his noble status to suppress a weaker woman; as a modern man, he still had some restraint.
…
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