Chapter 667: Act 29 – The Princess and the Princess III
Once war was on the agenda, preparations took off like a wild horse that had broken free from its reins, galloping forward. Duke Toniger entered a state of readiness early; the White Lion infantry began to bolster its ranks, and since Medisa returned to the territory, training for the Wind Archers was also scheduled.
At the princess’s behest, the various lords adjacent to Toniger also began to recruit noble private troops, many of whom were originally adversaries of Cold Fir Territory. However, since Count Rendener had suddenly become the opposite side of the kingdom, more and more sycophants began to emerge.
Although Brendel was not fond of these people, he did not outright reject them.
The month of Summer’s Mist quickly passed, and before the month of the Scrolls arrived, the earth was already filled with the scent of burning fire. The rising temperatures scorched the leaves, and the scorching sun repeatedly hammered the Southlands’ ground.
Vlada and the Southern army finally arrived as expected, but before the last festival of summer, Brendel still chose to calm his subjects from a feeling of nervous restlessness. In the last few weeks, he had allowed Cold Fir Territory to hold the championship tournament of the Fire Festival as scheduled.
This tournament corresponded to the Winter Hunt festival, bearing slightly less formal significance but attracted numerous local lords and knights due to the free supply of alcohol.
The competition venue was set just outside Cold Fir Castle; the clamorous arena had almost ignited the entire territory.
However, in certain quiet places, relative independence was still maintained.
Thin wooden walls divided the clamorous ocean from the tranquility inside the tavern; the occasional whistling of mercenaries would invade this relatively independent space. The unique aroma of overcooked meat and spices filled the hall, pungent yet providing a strong sense of home.
Several wooden tables had unique names written on maple cards: Brendel, Romaine, Antinna, and so forth, belonging to the owner or close friends. The sign outside the inn seemed new, featuring a three-masted ship with the inscription ‘Lord Romaine’s Smuggling Anchorage,’ a name obviously reserved for someone.
However, the setup inside the tavern felt relatively cozy. Xi sat at a wooden table in the southwestern corner, watching as more and more people gathered outside—mostly young men from the White Lion army or local residents and farmers. Since the influx of refugees into Toniger, the newly expanded White Lion army had far surpassed the mere thirty to forty members that Kargris had initially joined. Furthermore, with more settlers in the territory, tenants, traveling merchants, and craftsmen began to fill the countryside of Cold Fir Territory.
At that moment, a championship contest before the Summer Festival was taking place in the open space outside the tavern, and archery was currently on display, attracting many beautiful tree elf maidens, drawing an unprecedented crowd.
She turned her head and saw a girl in silver armor placing a bouquet of daisies beside a wooden tray, then clasping her hands and silently praying with her eyes closed. The image reflected in Xi’s eyes held her quiet gaze, and she asked, “Is her name Bud?”
Freya opened her eyes, showing a hint of sadness in her brown pupils, and silently nodded: “Bud loved lively events, and such an archery competition must be her favorite, getting to compete against the legendary tree elves…”
“Please don’t be sad, Miss Freya. The living must continue forward. The past… Veteran soldiers often remind us that death is merely a nameless tombstone that the living must cross, bearing more responsibilities and continuing on, so we must be strong,” Xi comforted.
“I’m sorry, I understand too, but I can’t help but recall the past, especially in moments like this,” the girl from Buche gently blinked her eyes, sighed, “Sometimes, I really wish to return to that time and start over without war; how lovely that would be…”
“I… can understand…” Xi cautiously replied.
“Mm?”
Xi looked at Freya’s expression, thought for a moment, and said, “Because since I was little, I’ve experienced numerous battles. In each battle, almost every time, a companion would die—some were newly acquainted, while others were close friends I spent every day with. When I was still a child, I would cry my heart out for each one, becoming the source of many jokes. But gradually, I became accustomed to the separations of life and death.”
“How could…” Freya was slightly stunned, looking at the girl beside her in disbelief—Xi looked slightly younger than her, yet seemed much more mature from her experiences.
“I am a mercenary, risking my life for money and survival. People like us will inevitably die in the next battle; this is a natural conclusion, and I never had any complaints,” Xi reflected, holding a wooden cup and gently shaking the golden liquid inside, quietly stating: “But due to an accident, Lord Brendel changed my life, helping me realize that there’s another way to live.”
“I… don’t know if I should thank Lord Brendel. I can more or less understand what he intends for me to pursue… However, apart from fighting, what else can I do?”
“So compared to others, I would rather be myself, dying with ease.”
“I’m sorry,” Freya suddenly said.
“Mm?” Xi was taken aback.
“I’m sorry, Xi. I never understood your life. I think my wish to return to the past may be too selfish. Brendel is right; if we don’t fight for it ourselves, no one can provide us with the peaceful life we desire.” Freya replied quietly, “The Erluin people are far from being able to indulge in comfort.”
The mercenary girl stared blankly at her.
Some things that Freya had begun to understand were still a mystery before Xi.
At that moment, a mountain-shaking cheer erupted outside, and the tavern door was slammed open. Romaine rushed in, holding a large basin, shouting, “Medisa won first place again! The malt liquor is all sold out; you all hurry and help out!”
“Be careful!” Freya hurriedly reminded.
“I know, I know,” then a scream came from the kitchen: “Ah, my roast!”
Brendel helplessly shook his head as he walked in, looking quite cheerful. He glanced at Freya and Xi, smiling, “Two beautiful ladies, aren’t you going out to celebrate with everyone? Our little princess has won the top title in archery.”
The future Valkyrie widened her eyes, staring at him, “Brendel, what are you wearing!”
“It’s my military uniform, the Erluin cavalry uniform. What do you think? Doesn’t it look nice?” Brendel held up the hand holding the roast, and his dark blue uniform got a few obvious grease stains—it was clear that someone had wiped their hands on it.
“You… how can you wipe your hands on your military uniform? The uniform represents the majesty of the kingdom; it is a soldier’s greatest honor. Brendel, you… are too much!” Freya nearly exploded, momentarily forgetting her earlier sadness.
“Oh, this… it was just a moment’s convenience,” Brendel replied innocently.
“Convenience?!”
“Ha, Freya, you stay busy; I’ll go take a look outside instead.” Seeing the future Valkyrie was about to blow up, it was evident that her sense of honor from the Royal Knight Academy had become a bit overly developed, and he quickly made a joke, preparing to escape.
“Stop right there, Brendel!”
At that moment, who would stop? Brendel understood this well; he originally came to show off his cavalry uniform to Freya and Xi, only to find that the goal had been reached, but the result was somewhat unexpected.
Fortunately, this little incident couldn’t dampen his current good mood.
The cavalry uniform he wore was made from the cotton and dye workshops of Cold Fir Territory, with cotton shipped via Ampere Seale. Almost all of this uniform came from Toniger.
This territory, once barren and desolate, produced virtually nothing aside from silver.
The source of change came from the increase in population, as, during the previous war, preparations were thorough, leading to a large influx of refugees into Toniger. The food reserves from Ampere Seale rapidly transformed the increased population into usable labor.
Two months ago, under Berun’s initiative, cotton spinning workshops, dye workshops, blacksmith shops, copper shops, clay and pottery, even weapon and armor-making bureaus were established. After nearly half a year of careful management, Toniger was no longer that remote wilderness; instead, it had gradually begun to produce some necessary goods for self-sufficiency.
First were food and weapons, along with a small number of luxury goods.
After the storm season, commercial activities with the north gradually frequented. Ships with white sails from Graywind Harbor and Ampere Seale docked at the new deep-water port of Port Gris, and perceptive merchants began to recognize local potential. Since entering the month of the Budding Flowers, the number of merchants residing in the port monthly had been increasing.
Alongside this surge were vast numbers of craftsmen. Just days ago, Brendel had met a group of dwarf enchanters from the Black Mountain area, most of whom were war refugees. It was said that the war between the north and the golden-maned Toquinin had begun to impact normal commercial activities, and the king’s eldest son seemed to be forced into direct confrontation with the lionmen under the temple’s pressure.
This was precisely an opportunity for the south to develop and grow.
Brendel looked out, watching carts carrying goods traveling along the main roads near Cold Fir Castle; the fields at the forest borders were no longer desolate—all around, farmers could be seen laboring. A year, or even six months ago, such scenes would have been utterly impossible in Toniger.
Yet all of this was brought about by his and everyone’s collective efforts.
He raised his head, spotting a knight on a tall steed holding the triangular flag of the winner, galloping around the crowd. The silver flag, embroidered with lilies, fluttered high in the wind; a thousand years ago, it had waved like this, and a thousand years later, it once again flew over this land.
People erupted into thunderous cheers.
Brendel saw the Silver Elf Princess being lifted high by the tree elf maidens; she was also looking far at the flag, with something seemingly sparkling in her eyes.
“Medisa!”
“Medisa!”
The residents shouted, raising their wine cups. On both sides of the street, the grass huts from the Grudin era were no longer visible. With the help of the Bronzesteeldragon mercenary group and the workers under Odum, a smooth road had been built along Cold Fir Castle, lined with tidy wooden houses. Standing beside the houses were townsfolk and children, each face beaming with contentment.
As he walked through the street, someone recognized him, a large group of residents sincerely bowing to him. Brendel casually returned the salute; to be honest, he had gradually grown accustomed to this lifestyle, no longer feeling awkward being saluted.
Those impressions from modern times seemed to be fading gradually. Yet deep in his soul, the pride of advanced civilization still supported his words and actions; at the very least, he would never view this respect and pride as something inborn.
He placed a copper coin into the hand of a nearby little girl. This coin symbolized the blessing from Lord Brendel before the summer; the little girl’s face grew flush with excitement as she ran to a woman—perhaps her mother—who quickly accepted the coin and bowed deeply to him.
“Lord!”
“Lord!”
The cheers quickly transformed into another sound, as the residents of Cold Fir Territory expressed their respect for their new lord who had brought all of this.
Brendel squinted; he understood that such fulfillment was illusory and temporary for everyone. Earlier, people had been anxiously inquiring about the impending war.
In this turbulent era, every person was trying to preserve their temporary stability in the face of uncertainty.
There was nothing wrong with that; it simply meant that Erluin was still far from stable. Some people had to bleed and even sacrifice their lives to protect others, but at the very least, he hoped to safeguard such an Erluin.
He pushed through the crowd and reached the princess’s side. Grifian was quietly watching all this, the Lady Knight standing beside her, a hand resting on her sword. But Brendel sensed that she was looking at him with an ambiguous gaze; in fact, Nemeses’s demeanor was far from the tense nerves she had shown in Ampere Seale.
In such an atmosphere, how could one remain tense?
“They like you very much, Mister Brendel. If there is anyone in Erluin who can be considered a model of ancient nobility, it must be found in you,” Princess Grifian said, her eyes shining with light, her tone slightly emotional.
“This is the ideal of Her Highness. In all of Erluin, everyone should no longer be troubled by poverty, strife, or disaster. The tragedy of Buche must never be repeated,” Brendel replied.
Princess Grifian blinked. “Mister Brendel, I understand that this may be overly idealistic, but I at least hope to change this kingdom from the current situation… In the north, even in Rendener, Vieiro, and many other places, strife and calamities caused by the nobles continue, while the descendants of the late Emperor Eke remain inactive.”
“Yes, that’s why Toniger cannot remain stable for long. Everyone must struggle and sacrifice for their future.”
“Are you ready, Mister Brendel?”
“I am just waiting to convince Duke Vieiro.”
…
Medisa was tossed around by the enthusiastic elf maidens for quite a while before being set down. The Silver Elf Princess had likely never experienced such a scene in her life or even the previous one, left rumpled, her little face nearly beet red.
As soon as her feet touched the ground, fearing retribution, the tree elves whistled, and immediately dispersed in a rush. The victor of our archery contest almost fell flat on her backside. Thankfully, Antinna was quick to catch her, “Those girls…”
The aide shook her head, conveniently handing Medisa her silver bow.
“Thank you, Sister Antinna,” Medisa said, still feeling a bit rattled.
However, she looked up at the distant high-flying standard belonging to the Silver Elf Royal Family, and satisfaction shone in her eyes. It had been countless years since this flag had appeared so gloriously in sight.
The moment she gripped the bow, her body and spirit seemed to return to that past era—across the wilderness, silver warhorses galloping, the resounding of horns echoing, resonating with the vast earth.
Seeing that the Silver Elf Princess was lost in thought, Antinna might have guessed what she was contemplating. She sighed and gently draped a cloak over her. Although it was midsummer, the hot sweat mixed with a chill in the wind could easily lead to illness. She had long since grown accustomed to taking care of such details for Brendel and momentarily forgot that Medisa was just an ethereal being.
Medisa paused for a moment, touched, looking at Antinna, “Thank you so much, Sister Antinna.”
“This is the second time,” Antinna shook her head dismissively.
“No, it’s because it reminded me of my sister,” Medisa earnestly replied.
“Is that so?”
“Well, maybe she was a bit softer. Just like how I imagined my sister would be, yes, just like this…” The Silver Elf Princess smiled sweetly.
Antinna looked closely at her; she had heard some stories about Medisa, knowing that her relationship with her sister might not be so harmonious. She reached out to smooth the hair from the girl’s forehead and replied, “Perhaps that’s how it is among royals…”
“Royals?” Medisa pondered, looking at Antinna, “By the way, Sister Antinna, has the lord still not found the reason?”
“Mm.” The aide recalled the matter and shook her head, “Miss Alorze also checked for me, but I am not of golden blood myself. That time, perhaps it was Lady Martha’s protection.”
“Lady Martha’s protection?”
Medisa looked at Antinna and suddenly asked: “Sister Antinna, what about your necklace?”
“Necklace…” Antinna was slightly taken aback, instinctively pressing her hand to her chest, “Necklace?”
“Yes, the one you always wore before. You had it on all the way to Ampere Seale, right? I remember seeing it once in the Sea of Light,” Medisa answered softly.
“That… I lost it before. Why?”
“Nothing.” The Silver Elf Princess smiled slightly, “I didn’t expect careful Sister Antinna could lose things as well. Tell the lord; he definitely won’t believe it.”
“No need,” Antinna hurriedly replied, “The lord is busy preparing for the war with Count Rendener. It’s best not to disturb him with these trivialities.”
“Is that so?”
The aide nodded slightly.
Medisa thought for a moment, seemingly wanting to say something more. But just then, a commotion erupted from one corner of the arena, as the crowd suddenly stirred, their attention drawn over there.
However, compared to Medisa, Antinna was just an ordinary person after all. The Silver Elf Princess quickly discerned what was happening over there.
“Eh,” she lightly exclaimed.
“What is it?” Antinna looked in that direction futilely, turning back to ask.
“Strange fellows have come.”
Medisa murmured.
…
For Duskwood Forest, the several days of continuous rain seemed to resume after a brief clearing, again pouring over Magitan and the nearby areas.
For the residents of the Mist Forest, since Duke Anlek’s visit, it seemed there had not been many good days. The gloomy sky that brought rain always loomed overhead, even though April and May marked the rainy season in the Duskwood region.
But this year, the situation was somewhat excessive.
The wooden gate creaked and swayed in the pouring rain, and among the downpour, a pair of cold eyes silently watched the raindrops slide down the gate like a broken pillar, then blend into the mud below.
Two servants held up a cloak to shield Count Rendener from the persistent rain; this privileged earl of the kingdom quietly watched as a carriage, under the guard of soldiers, drove out of the outer city across the drawbridge, then he turned his head, quickly disappearing above the city walls.
Duke Anlek propped up the carriage window curtain with one hand, retracting his gaze from that direction, and lightly scoffed. Inside the carriage, darkness once again enveloped the interior: “This old fox is both cautious and greedy; his indecision and stubbornness are his greatest weaknesses.”
“That is likely a typical weakness of the nobility, my lord,” a woman’s voice replied. “But at least we’ve convinced this guy; it hasn’t been in vain.”
“He will have his regrets.” The hoarse voice coldly laughed.
“He simply has no choice; he may not genuinely join our cause. That said, how can such a useless noble understand deeper truths?” Duke Anlek shook his head.
“Still, Count Cohen is indeed untrustworthy; you best keep that in mind,” he reminded again.
“Already prepared.” The hoarse voice replied ominously. “He is but a scapegoat.”
Anlek nodded, casting one last glance in that direction—the towering walls of Magitan had already faded into a faint shadow in the rain. He then lowered the curtain, and darkness once again filled the carriage.
And in a direction he could not see, Count Rendener was already descending the castle’s spiral staircase, accompanied by knights. The dim light in the corridor illuminated his alternatingly bright and dark face; this once powerful earl of the kingdom now seemed filled with cold doubts etched into every wrinkle.
“Father, are you really planning to ally with those things?” A figure had been waiting below; the young noble raised his head, eagerly asking, “If we agree, there will be no way back.”
Rendener cast a look at his second son: “Do we have an escape route now? It seems you haven’t grasped your predicament.”
“No, I mean…”
“Enough.” Rendener interrupted impatiently, “I know what you want to say. Of course, I will make preparations. Magara… at least the situation in Magara…”
He sighed, “Forget it, go contact the Crusian.”
“Crusian?”
“Some things must be made known to them.”
The earl fell silent for a moment before quietly responding.
…
(PS: Day three! I went out to handle some matters today, so I’m late by a lot! Wuwuwu, that’s it for now~) (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, feel free to vote for recommendations and monthly tickets at Qidian (qidian.com). Your support is my greatest motivation.)
