Chapter 67: The Banner Above the City
Kayan lifted his head and met Nolan’s gaze. He had already emerged from his earlier turmoil, and the determination in his eyes had returned.
“I need you, in the name of the Mother Goddess’ Temple, to draft a proclamation of condemnation,” Nolan said, tracing the shape of a notice in the air. “Accuse Archduke Demont of colluding with undead forces, allowing his son Haus to tyrannize the region, and conspiring to undermine the kingdom itself. Publish that proclamation under the Temple’s authority and announce it throughout Demont Province, even across all three southern provinces of the Elfin Kingdom.”
Kayan’s breathing instantly quickened.
In the Temple’s name? To announce it to the world?
This… this was madness.
Though he had once been the favored disciple of the previous archbishop, he was now nothing more than an ordinary priest exiled by the bishop of Veli City. He had no authority whatsoever to speak on behalf of the Temple. Doing this would not only make an irreconcilable enemy of Archduke Demont, but might also provoke the fury of the Temple’s upper ranks. It would place him directly at the center of the storm, setting him against both the old southern nobility and the conservative faction within the Temple.
And yet…
Kayan looked into Nolan’s eyes, filled with trust and conviction, and remembered the helpless despair he had felt when he witnessed the vision of the kingdom’s destruction.
Wasn’t that the very reason he had chosen to follow Nolan here? To change all of this? If he lacked even this much courage, then how could he ever claim he wanted to save the kingdom?
A blazing fire reignited within his chest. “Fine!” Kayan clenched the holy emblem hanging at his chest. “Even if the Temple strips me of my name and burns me at the stake as a heretic, I will still walk the path I believe is right!”
Nolan smiled in satisfaction. He had not misjudged him. The man who would one day be known as “Saint Kayan the Fervent Zeal” truly was, at heart, a warrior unafraid of power and authority.
“Good.” He turned toward the others and began issuing orders. “Hank, Rehanna, gather every available hand immediately. Combine the Fire Fox Mercenary Company with our own people and secure the entire lord’s manor. Inventory all valuables, food supplies, and weapons. Once the sun rises, gather the city’s civilians as well, especially the families who suffered under the so-called right of first night. Vivi, Little Donnie, take some men and deal with Yuri’s and Haus’ corpses. I’ll need them later. As for me…” Nolan glanced at the couple still leaning against the wall. “Send someone to Silverglow Town to bring Anna here. Once the private soldiers outside the city are dealt with, I still need to write a letter. A letter to the royal capital. One that will decide the fate of this city… and all of us.”
After saying that, he walked over to the blacksmith and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“What’s your name?”
“M-my lord… my name is Barton,” the man replied, overwhelmed with surprise.
“Barton, your wife needs rest. I’ll have someone prepare a clean room and food for both of you,” Nolan said. “When she wakes up, tell her everything is over. From today onward, no one will ever dare bully you again. Also, I need a favor. Go into the city and tell everyone you know exactly what happened tonight. Tell them Haus is dead. Yuri is dead too. Coldsteel City has a new master now. Hank, Rehanna, go with Barton and speak to the townspeople yourselves.”
Tears glimmered in Barton’s eyes as he nodded vigorously. “Yes, my lord! I’ll do it!”
Hank and Rehanna nodded as well.
“We need to deal with those private troops during the morning guard rotation. Strike while the iron’s hot so nothing drags on too long. Go.”
Once Nolan had arranged everything, he glanced once more at his companions.
The continuous healing aura of Dawn Aura was finally taking effect. During the past half hour, Nolan’s own health had slowly recovered to over half, while many of the smaller wounds on his companions had already healed. Hank had witnessed this ability before, but Little Donnie and Rehanna were far more shocked.
“Brother Nolan, this is…” Little Donnie poked at his side. “My injuries barely hurt anymore!”
Rehanna stared at her fair arm in astonishment. The two sword wounds that had once marked it had completely vanished, even though the priest had never used a healing decree on her.
“Well, if you’re following me, I can’t exactly let you walk around bruised and battered every day.” Nolan forced out a weary smile and made a small joke. The healing aura could handle physical injuries, but the exhaustion caused by depleted mana and nonstop battle was far harder to recover from.
Nolan waved weakly toward Vivi, signaling that he needed rest.
Understanding immediately, Vivi supported him and guided him toward a relatively clean side room nearby.
Watching Nolan’s retreating figure, Rehanna walked over to Hank and lowered her voice, “Old soldier… do you think this can really succeed?”
Hank stared out at the gradually brightening sky for a long moment before slowly exhaling a cloud of smoke. “I don’t know. But I do know this is only the beginning. And I also know that kid Nolan always manages to surprise me. Come on. We still have work to do.”
***
The next morning.
After a night filled with chaos and bloodshed, silence finally settled over the city before dawn.
Outside the city walls, in Baron Haus’ private military camp, groups of soldiers lounged around chewing on hard black bread while grumbling irritably.
“What the hell was going on in the city this morning? All that shouting and screaming kept me from sleeping,” complained the mercenary captain, a burly man with a face full of coarse flesh as he spat on the ground.
“Who knows? Probably the lord trying out some new entertainment again,” another soldier snickered lewdly beside him. “I heard they captured a girl from the Fire Fox Mercenary Company yesterday. An elemental mage too, and supposedly gorgeous. Bet the lord had himself a wonderful night. Wouldn’t surprise me if he raises taxes again after being in such a good mood.”
“Hah, if you ask me, all that noise was probably some idiot crashing into the lord’s manor and getting chopped apart by Captain Yuri and the guards. Captain Yuri’s the real deal. You ever seen him fight? One swing and his blade stays clean while the enemy gets drained dry.”
The soldiers chatted noisily among themselves, their voices full of awe toward the lord and his captain, mixed with mockery for anyone foolish enough to resist. In their eyes, anyone who dared challenge Baron Haus’ authority in Coldsteel City had only one possible ending: death.
Soon enough, it was time for the changing of the guard. Yawning lazily, the captain assembled his hundred-odd men and led them toward the southern gate.
Normally, the gates would already be open by this hour, and the guards on the walls would sound the horn to begin the shift rotation. But today, everything felt wrong. The southern gate remained tightly shut. The drawbridge was still raised high. The walls themselves were eerily silent, without a single visible guard.
“What the hell is this? Did those lazy bastards on the wall sleep themselves to death?” The captain frowned, unease creeping into his chest. He shouted toward the battlements, “Hey! You idiots! Open the gate! It’s time for the rotation! You want the lord to skin you alive?!”
His voice echoed across the empty gatehouse.
No response came.
The soldiers began murmuring nervously among themselves.
“What’s going on?”
“Did something happen?”
“What could possibly happen? Who’d dare cause trouble in Coldsteel City?”
Even the captain himself began to feel uncertain. He raised a hand for silence and shouted again, “Listen up there! If you don’t open this gate, I’ll order it rammed down! When the lord hears about this, every last one of you is finished!”
This time, movement finally appeared atop the wall. A figure slowly emerged behind the battlements. It was not anyone they recognized.
A young man stood there, his face still somewhat pale. Yet he stood perfectly straight, his eyes cold and unwavering. The sheer pressure radiating from him sent a chill through every soldier below.
“Who the hell are you? Where are the gate guards?” the captain barked, though the bravado in his voice sounded forced.
Nolan ignored the question entirely. He simply gazed silently at the ragged private soldiers below him. Not even a proper first-rank army. Just a mob of rabble serving as Baron Haus’ fangs and claws.
A moment later, several more figures appeared behind Nolan. Hank. Rehanna. Vivi. Little Donnie. Along with several surviving members of the Fire Fox Mercenary Company. And in their hands was something else: a banner. Dust-covered and somewhat tattered, yet still unmistakable despite the damage. A golden lion standing atop mountains against a solemn crimson background. The Lion Banner of the Elfin Kingdom.
Under the stunned gaze of every private soldier below, Hank and Rehanna worked together to raise the banner high above the city walls, planting it at the most visible point atop the gate tower—a flag that had not flown over Coldsteel City for many years.
The morning wind swept across the battlements, and the lion banner unfurled with a thunderous snap. The golden lion seemed to awaken from a long slumber at last, opening its majestic eyes once more as it looked down upon the land that belonged to it.