Chapter 93: Act 29 – Romaine’s Plan (Celebrating the Fourth Generation’s First Flight)
In the month of the Star Sorcerers, the beginning of each year is called the Month of Winter Lute. The constellation of Winter Lute governs a person’s charm, making January a month for social activities, during which the majority of the kingdom’s banquets and winter hunts take place.
June is referred to as the Month of Summer Haze, where “haze” refers to the moonlight of summer nights, marking the days of magical revival throughout Vaunte’s summer slumber. Therefore, the activities of wizards usually become frequent after this month—be they those of living wizards or the undead.
However, by July, known as the Month of Flowing Fire, the sun walks upon the earth. The Sun God, Perkin, governs power, making this month one of strength. In the distant east, orcs host their largest celebration this month, the Festival of Flame.
For the nations under the protection of the Temple of Fire, this month is equally crucial. Erluin’s annual grand event, the Fire Festival, should have commenced early in this month; however, in the region of Golan-Elsen, both farmers and high-ranking nobles have been preoccupied with the grim news of incessant war since the end of May—leaving them with little mood for celebration.
Fortunately, reports indicate some improvement; it is rumored in the countryside that the terrible army of monsters from the south has halted at Draglas and no longer advances northward. Additionally, whispers spread that the Silver-winged Cavalry has won two victories at the front lines, retrieving quite a few battle flags.
Yet there are also claims of defeats; in any case, various news circulating in the rear make it hard to discern the truth. Thankfully, the countryside folk are always willing to believe in good tidings, and it is fortunate that Lord Earl Nakin of Bruglas is hailed as wise and formidable, protecting the land—something everyone praises.
By the seventh day, the army of Instalung had turned towards Rendener, and the rural areas of Golan-Elsen were once again calm.
It is said some have seen the end of the war arrive since, in July, the sun walks upon the earth, and the undead burn upon contact with the ground, naturally leading the kingdom into a counter-offensive.
Such rumors, unclear in their origin, had spread widely in this area within days.
Brendel sat by a mahogany table, casually listening to the conversations of several farmers nearby. He and the others had left Ankeze along the main road towards Bruglas two days ago—the front lines were gradually easing, and the undead were decreasing, so these farmers were at least correct about one thing—the war was nearing its end.
Marden brought the villagers of Buche to Ankeze; the news of the fall of the Buche region reached Vangmir Fortress, making him a hero by default. The garrison and militia of Buche also shared in the glory, with both Freya and Romaine listed for commendation, but that was just the beginning—Brendel knew the main event was still to come.
After the war, the kingdom needed to establish heroes; this was an undeniable method to inspire hope. The propaganda of war had always been about fighting your battles, regardless of the outcome, as long as it emerged in a glorious spectacle.
However, when they arrived at Ankeze, Marden’s group was sent ahead to Bruglas. Nobles were eager to reap practical benefits; the garrison and militia needed tangible rewards, while they only required the reputation of having commanded effectively—there was no conflict here.
Although Brendel had known that this title would ultimately fall upon Earl Prah, the details boiled down to the power struggles between local nobles and local legions.
Yet, two pieces of news surprised Brendel.
One was that the Buche garrison had not been completely wiped out. He heard that Brensen and his two deputies had survived, and just thinking about that annoying guy made Brendel feel nauseous, as if he had swallowed a fly.
Regardless, as someone who had shared in both joy and suffering with them, he felt a subtle sigh of relief.
The other piece of news was more significant—it turned out that “Tiger” Lukesons was alive. When Brendel confirmed this information, it felt as if he’d been struck by lightning; he felt neither worry nor relief, but rather a strange sensation of anxiety and uncertainty.
Had history changed because of him?
“Damn it, these fools! It was merely Madara who altered the assault’s intent; what does that have to do with those cowardly nobles? They don’t know anything—Brendel, who is Lord Earl Nakin?”
Freya couldn’t help but complain softly; the young man looked up just in time to see the girl’s disdainful expression.
Brendel couldn’t help but laugh: “Lord Earl Nakin is the head of the Draglas family, which bears the name of this land. This family has a long and illustrious history, far beyond that of ordinary minor nobles.”
The girl with the long ponytail paused in surprise, her confidence diminishing by half: “B-but he can’t take everyone’s credit…”
“The goals of those big shots don’t align with ours; we have no overlap with them,” Brendel replied with a smile. “Besides, you shouldn’t be angry with these countryside farmers. Of course, you look down upon those nobles because you know what they are at their core. But these farmers are ignorant; to them, the nobility are lofty figures—and it’s only natural they would think so.”
Freya was taken aback, only then recalling that she once shared the same view, seeing city folk as proud and knowledgeable while nobles seemed to dominate everything. She couldn’t help but glance at the young man across from her; ever since meeting Brendel, she felt she had grown, gaining a much broader understanding than before.
Things that once seemed profound now appeared quite ordinary. But what had driven this change? Was Brendel truly that remarkable?
Noticing her deep in thought, Brendel asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m wondering if I’ve changed?”
“People inevitably change, Freya; it’s just a matter of where the differences lie.”
“Hmm?” The girl paused, looking at him with her light brown eyes, puzzled.
“Wisdom.”
“Wisdom?”
“Wisdom is simply understanding more than they do, seeing more clearly. The more you see and understand, the more ordinary this world appears in your eyes,” Brendel answered.
“And you, Brendel?” Freya pondered for a moment and couldn’t help but ask a question she had long wanted to pose.
“Compared to you, one could say that. But once you understand more, the world actually becomes more complex, instilling a sense of endless vigilance and anxiety,” he replied after some thought.
Freya considered this, slowly shaking her head.
Brendel laughed: “You will understand soon enough—” but he then noticed Merchant Miss Romaine was resting her chin on the table, her eyes gazing over at them in a pitiful manner, and promptly lost half of his good humor.
“What are you doing again?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Romaine denied emphatically.
He was momentarily at a loss for words.
It must be said that this young lady’s unconventional thinking often left Brendel’s inquiries hanging. After pondering, he changed the topic: “Speaking of which, since yesterday, you’ve been scribbling something?”
Romaine’s eyes sparkled as she sat up, replying, “I’m calculating prices, Brendel.”
“Prices?”
“Because since the end of the Month of New Flowers, the price of grain in Ankeze has surged over fifty percent. If the war continues until winter, then Merchant Miss Romaine will complete her first deal,” the aspiring merchant explained with aplomb.
Romaine’s words startled both of them. Two days ago, seeing her having a great time in Ankeze on her own, they thought she was merely on another “adventure.” Little did they realize she had been conducting market research almost unconsciously.
What surprised Brendel was Romaine’s sharpness; Freya, on the other hand, was simply shocked to discover her friend had such a serious side.
“Well, it seems you won’t be able to complete it,” Brendel became intrigued, unable to resist adding: “The war will last at most until mid-July. Big merchant lady, your first plan is going to fall through.”
“Really?” Romaine couldn’t help but ask.
“Most likely.” Brendel thought it would be a hundred percent. However, he was more curious to see Romaine’s reaction to this setback but was soon disappointed.
“Hey, Brendel,” Romaine blinked: “I’ve heard that Bruglas has been transporting wine and food from Draglas, Ankeze, and Buche for years, right? Ankeze and Draglas have always been important grain-producing areas in the south of Golan-Elsen, haven’t they?”
Brendel couldn’t help but glance at Little Romaine, thinking to himself that she had even found out about this.
“If that’s the case, Bruglas has a population of thirty-five thousand. Since entering a state of war, they must have stopped brewing wine since the end of May, right?”
“If the nobles got wind of it beforehand, they probably started as early as the beginning of May—” Brendel mused, realizing that the signs of war manifest in various ways, but few people notice.
The merchant girl counted on her fingers: “So, if the war ends by mid-July, Ankeze probably won’t be able to support more than two celebrations. If Bruglas needs to requisition wine and food from the north, they’ll have to cross the Grey Vulture Mountains. Considering losses, the prices of wines in this area will surely skyrocket.”
Brendel was startled, unable to resist asking, “Who told you all this?”
“Aunt often says that ignoring the experience of the elders will bring divine punishment,” Romaine replied earnestly, her bright eyes looking at both of them. “There’s Old John from the Manolan family, Old Anton, and the lame Calvin; Romaine is quite likable. Some of these elders have brewed wine in the Bruglas region for most of their lives—oh! Brendel, would you like me to introduce you to one of them? They are rather impressive.”
Brendel couldn’t help but look at the merchant girl, whose tail seemed to be wagging up to the sky. He believed that with her little character, she would be well-liked by many, but what exactly was “Merchant Lady Romaine”?
“So you want to take advantage of the end of the war to make some money? That is your plan?” he asked.
The merchant girl nodded vigorously.
“Short on cash?”
She continued to nod vigorously.
“Wait,” Freya interjected at just the right moment, frowning: “Brendel, you’re not going to indulge Romaine’s madness, are you? We don’t have much money left.”
“Freya, perhaps Little Romaine will surprise us.”
But Freya didn’t believe in such fairy tale fortunes falling from the sky.
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