Chapter 142: The Advancing Knight, the Wolves Closing In

When the declaration calling for Demont’s punishment reached the southeastern Province of Loman, the atmosphere there was entirely different from the outrage consuming Veli Province.

The people of Loman Province revered martial strength and worshipped the powerful. Endless mountain ranges and highlands formed the homeland of its mountain folk. Because the kingdom had long been hostile toward the mountain dwarves, years of border clashes had forged the people of Loman into warriors far fiercer than those of the other southern provinces.

The residence of the archduke of Loman resembled less a noble estate and more a massive military camp.

At that moment, inside the archduke’s study, Archduke Loman—a broad-shouldered man whose face looked as though it had been carved by blade and axe—listened to his subordinate’s report.

When it ended, his expression barely changed, though a sharp glint flashed through his eyes.

“Nolan…?” he quietly repeated the name. “A clever move. Strike first and seize the initiative. After this, let alone military support, who in the south would still dare openly speak on Demont’s behalf? That old dog Demont has finally reached this point.” The archduke removed a heavy battle axe from the weapon rack and casually weighed it in his hand. “At the last noble council, his envoy was still desperately trying to win sympathy. Tch. A bunch of grandstanding clowns. I originally looked down on those so-called ‘rebels openly defying the nobility,’ but now it seems Demont himself is hardly clean. The old bastard has always wanted to crown himself king. I just didn’t expect his obsession to run this deep. Anyone daring to rebel in the territory he spent decades building… I almost feel a trace of admiration for that ignorant ‘Pioneer Knight.’ His timing was well chosen. He’s someone noteworthy.”

Despite his words, there was not a shred of genuine respect in his tone. Mockery outweighed everything else. In his eyes, Nolan was still merely a fool courting death.

One man standing against a ruling archduke? Only readers of knightly romances would think that constituted a contest.

No. This was a slaughter.

The subordinate who had just finished reporting spoke calmly. He was Robert Loman, military commander of Loman Province and the archduke’s eldest son.

“Father, the Pioneer Knight has yet to receive any condemnation from the royal family. Previously, when he openly executed landed nobles, the crown also showed no intention of supporting Demont. Do you think this could be a hidden move arranged by the royal family to resolve Demont’s separatist ambitions?”

Archduke Loman’s face instantly darkened. “While on duty, address me as Commander!”

“Yes, Commander!” Robert immediately straightened his posture and stood rigidly upright.

Seeing the son he valued most, the archduke’s expression eased slightly. He returned the battle axe to the rack with a dull metallic thud. “The fact that you considered that possibility is good. But you’re still too naive.”

Robert froze. He had spent a long time arriving at that conclusion and had been quite confident in it. Otherwise, he would never have dared present it to his strict father.

Archduke Loman despised the ignorant and incompetent above all else. Robert could not help growing nervous.

“A hidden move? If even regional powers like us, who aren’t royalists, can see through it, then what kind of hidden move is that? That ‘Tattooed Count’ among the royalists is no simple-minded fool.” He walked toward the map and tapped the location of the royal capital with his finger. “Her Highness the Grand Princess and the Prince are constantly fighting over legitimacy. The old noble factions in the north have already placed their bets on the Prince and would love nothing more than to see the Grand Princess’s backyard erupt in flames. At a time like this, would the princess, who represents the royal line’s legitimacy, personally stir chaos in the south, expose weaknesses, and undermine her own power base? That would be truly idiotic.”

Robert frowned. “But, Father—I mean, Commander—you just said the Pioneer Knight chose his timing well…”

“You fool!” the archduke barked mercilessly. “If he’s working for the royal family, then yes, it’s stupidity. But what if he really is a third party standing outside every faction? Hmm?”

Robert paused, staring at the tiny marker representing Coldsteel City on the map as his mind raced.

A moment later, realization dawned on him, and his eyes narrowed.

“…Then he’s the unexpected piece that disrupts Demont’s entire rhythm. A blade stabbed straight into Demont’s weak point. By killing Haus and exposing Demont’s dealings, he’s forcing Demont to respond! Either Demont swallows the humiliation and accepts punishment, or he tears off the mask completely. Nolan is denying him the time he needs to keep growing stronger!

“Everyone already knows Demont harbors rebellious ambitions. If Nolan succeeds, he’ll naturally become the new ruler of Demont Province. The royal family won’t need to do anything. They’ll gain a rising noble who has already proven himself loyal to the crown through action, someone politically perceptive and capable of solving problems. Naturally, they’d be happy to support him against the traditional regional nobility, and the Grand Princess’ standing within the kingdom would rise to an entirely new level.

“And if he fails… then it was merely the personal actions of an overconfident Pioneer Knight. The royal family would have nothing to do with it. The fragile layer of paper between the crown and Demont would remain unpierced. The royal family would gain more time to strengthen itself. I’ve heard several exceptional talents have emerged from recent classes of the Royal Military Academy. Those direct supporters of the Grand Princess would gain more time to mature.”

The more Robert spoke, the more excited he became. Finally, he looked toward his father.

“Do you think… Demont Province is really going to change? And who would you rather see win?”

“Who wins? It’s just dogs tearing at each other.” Archduke Loman sneered. “Remember this. The three southern provinces stand with the Grand Princess, and I stand with the Grand Princess because the Loman family owes the royal family a debt and because it serves our political interests—not because we share any deep friendship with the other two southern archdukes. What I’d rather see is both sides crippling each other. Demont is arrogant and ambitious. Veli is weak and useless. When that happens, Loman will become the undisputed strongest province in the south. And if the princess wants to unify the kingdom, she’ll have no choice but to rely on us even more heavily.”

He picked up an exquisitely crafted longsword from the rack and swung it casually. The blade sliced through the air with a sharp, piercing shriek.

“As for the outcome, all we need to do is watch. With Demont’s vindictive personality, that old dog won’t endure this humiliation for long. The kingdom’s turmoil is about to begin, and only the fiercest wolves will tear off the largest piece of meat.”

***

As for the manifesto itself, the Grand Temple of the Mother Goddess in the royal capital maintained a surprisingly firm silence.

Their only public statement was that they would investigate the matter of undead forces crossing the border.

But anyone with clear eyes understood that the temple’s influence had long since withdrawn from Demont Province years ago. The statement was little more than an intentionally vague declaration of neutrality.

The Temple of the Mother Goddess rarely involved itself in the kingdom’s politics, yet even so, such an ambiguous stance on a matter as serious as collusion with the undead struck many as deeply meaningful.

Meanwhile, the northern noble factions mostly reacted with undisguised schadenfreude.

Demont had never been well liked among the nobility to begin with, and during the kingdom’s previous succession dispute, he had sided with the southern nobles, offending many in the process. Plenty among the northern traditional aristocracy would have loved nothing more than to see him suffer.

As for the “Pioneer Knight” named Nolan, most of them viewed him as little more than an amusing story for after-dinner conversation, just another reckless fool who had embarrassed a ruling archduke.

However, not everyone saw things that way.

At the estate of Archduke Vilford, the strongest archduke among the three northern provinces, the archduke’s second son, Cayman Vilford, was filled with admiration after hearing the news.

After returning home from a routine military briefing, Cayman was so excited he practically seemed ablaze.

“This is the true model for our generation!”

He rushed into his room and nearly burst into tears before his beautiful fiancée, Linlin.

“What dazzling knightly spirit! While everyone else chooses silence and compromise, he raises the banner of glory and draws his sword against the cancer festering within the kingdom itself! Isn’t this exactly the ancient noble honor I’ve been searching for all this time?!”

Linlin sighed helplessly.

Here we go again.

Her fiancé was wonderful in every regard. Handsome, kind, born of illustrious lineage, upright in conduct, and courteous to everyone. The only problem was that his head was stuffed full of knightly novels. As a direct heir to a ruling archduke, he was far too naive. No wonder Archduke Vilford always looked at him like a man frustrated that iron refused to become steel. The world of nobility was not sustained by romantic ideals.

Still…

Linlin looked at Cayman’s flushed face and the pure, utterly sincere passion shining in his eyes, and her heart could not help softening. In this age, where nobles tore at each other for profit and resorted to any means necessary, maintaining such a noble heart was not necessarily a bad thing. So what if people mocked him behind his back as a “knight idiot”? Wasn’t that very quality what she loved about him?

She gently leaned into the crook of his arm, letting his embrace wrap around her waist as she softly said, “It is rather romantic. In times like these, people with both conviction and ability are incredibly rare. Even if it’s only a fleeting spark, it’s enough for people to remember for a very long time.”

Receiving his fiancée’s approval only made Cayman more excited. Holding Linlin tightly, he suddenly made a solemn declaration. “I’ve decided.”

Linlin looked up at him curiously.

But the next words out of Cayman’s mouth made her beautiful eyes widen instantly.

“I’m going south!”

“Why?” Linlin cried out. “The south is in chaos right now, dear. What are you planning to do?”

Cayman’s face shone with something close to reverence.

“Heroes emerge in troubled times! Linlin, listen closely. The horn of the age has already sounded! That noble knight is carrying the burden of this era upon his shoulders as he marches ahead. The path he opens leads toward the kingdom’s glory! How could I, Cayman Vilford, allow him to stand alone in the spotlight?”

***

Meanwhile, the “noble knight” whom Cayman admired with all his heart was currently squatting inside Leus’s alchemy workshop with a deeply furrowed brow.

Nolan was more than willing to shoulder the torrent of fate and the burden of the era.

Unfortunately, the burden currently confronting him was of a rather different kind.

A physical one.