Chapter 72: A Letter Sent to the Royal Capital
Nolan’s series of arrangements stirred a tidal wave in everyone’s hearts. Shock came first, followed by overwhelming elation. It felt as though they could already see an invincible army rising, a brand-new era about to dawn—and they themselves would be its founders and witnesses.
“Alright, the plan is clear, and we don’t have much time.” Nolan clapped his hands, pulling everyone back to reality. “Take your positions and begin immediately.”
“Yes, my lord!”
This time, everyone answered in unison, their voices loud and filled with an energy unlike anything before.
“Wait.” Nolan scratched his head, a little uncomfortable. “Just call me Nolan. ‘My lord’ sounds too awkward.”
At heart, he was still a modern soul who valued equality, instinctively resistant to titles that carried a sense of hierarchy.
“No!” Hank was the first to object, his expression more serious than ever. “Nolan, before, we were companions. It didn’t matter how we addressed each other. But now, you are our leader, the master of this city. You must have the authority that comes with that position, or how will you command respect?” Looking at Nolan, he spoke earnestly. “At a time like this, people have just gone through a great upheaval. They are lost, uneasy, and uncertain about the future. They desperately need a strong figure to step forward and lead them out of this predicament. A proper title and a clear chain of command give them a sense of security. That matters. I know you don’t want to be a hero, or to stand above others. That’s admirable. But not everyone has the courage to become a hero.”
Rehanna nodded in agreement. “Mr. Hank is right. An army, a faction—both require an absolute core. You are ours.”
The others voiced their agreement as well.
Seeing the determination in their eyes, Nolan knew he could not argue this point. He let out a quiet sigh and stopped refusing, tacitly accepting the title.
What Nolan did not notice, however, was that with his acceptance, the boss template on his panel seemed to undergo a subtle change.
Satisfied with his response, everyone exchanged glances and left the room one after another, brimming with motivation as they went to carry out their tasks.
Soon, only Nolan and Anna remained.
Nolan walked to the table and spread out a sheet of clean parchment. His deep green eyes lingered on the oak trees outside the window as if lost in thought.
Anna sat quietly across from him, grinding ink. She lifted her gaze to his contemplative profile and asked softly, “How should I write it, my lord?”
Nolan paused, quickly composing the wording in his mind.
This letter was crucial.
It was not only a message to the royal capital but also a declaration of allegiance, a political probe, and a negotiation of interests. Too humble, and he would be looked down upon; too forceful, and he would arouse the royal family’s suspicion. The balance had to be precise. He needed to demonstrate loyalty while also proving his worth.
“Let’s do it this way…” Nolan finally said. Instead of writing it himself, he chose to dictate while Anna served as his scribe. Her handwriting was elegant and neat, far better than his own scrawl. “Write this.”
His voice was steady and clear, echoing softly through the quiet room.
“To Your Royal Highness, Princess Flina, I hope this letter finds you well…”
***
Royal Capital, Elfin Palace.
The afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows, bathing the opulent chamber in a golden glow.
A half-elf girl with long silver hair and pointed ears sat quietly on a cushioned couch by the window. Dressed in a finely tailored court gown, she exuded a noble and elegant aura. She was Princess Flina, the eldest princess of the Elfin Kingdom.
In her hands was a freshly opened letter, the ink still new. It had reportedly been delivered that very morning by a young boy.
To Your Royal Highness, Princess Flina: I hope this letter finds you well. In Coldsteel City of Demont Province, I have confirmed that Baron Haus von Demont neglected his duties, oppressed his people, and colluded with the undead. With the witness of the battle hero Hank Corot, and in accordance with the Lionheart Code, I have executed him and his accomplices in the name of a Pioneer Knight of the kingdom, and have temporarily taken over the military and administrative affairs of Coldsteel City.
I have long heard of Your Highness’ ambition to restore the kingdom, and I deeply admire it. With the kingdom now in turmoil, I am willing to devote myself fully to our shared ideal, without hesitation.
At present, my territory faces an unjust encirclement by the army of the archduke of Demont. Should the opportunity arise, I will come to the royal city in person to report to you.
May the late kings watch over the people of Elfin, and may the Mother Goddess bless the realm.
Yours faithfully, Nolan.
After reading the letter, Princess Flina set it down gently. Her fair face revealed little emotion, yet her amethyst-like eyes shimmered with thought.
She lifted her head and looked toward a man standing not far away. Her voice, clear and melodious like the chime of wind bells, broke the silence. “This was just delivered? What do you think, Teacher?”
The man she addressed wore a sharp black count’s coat, with a flame-shaped tattoo on his right cheek. He was Owen, the leading figure of the royalist faction, known as the “Tattooed Count.”
“This letter was delivered to the ‘Watchtower’ in the capital by a young boy. I’m quite curious how they discovered our royalist contact point. The person in charge said the boy insisted it be delivered to Your Highness by name, claiming it contained ‘critical intelligence.’” He paused briefly before continuing, “But I already know who sent it.”
“Oh? You do?” The princess tilted her head in curiosity.
“Never underestimate the royalist intelligence network.” Owen gave a slight bow.
“As expected of you, Teacher. Nothing in the kingdom escapes your notice,” the princess praised sincerely.
“You flatter me, Your Highness.” He smiled gracefully, stepped forward, and picked up the letter to read it himself. “As I thought. A Pioneer Knight… this Nolan is quite capable.” Owen set the letter down. “He knows exactly what he’s doing and what we need. This letter is both intelligence and a perfectly measured declaration of allegiance. He understands the kingdom’s situation very well. Right now, the biggest headache for us royalists is that old fox, Demont. His appearance is like setting a fire in Demont’s backyard. It has drawn the archduke’s attention, preventing him from making any moves with the southern legions for the time being. That buys us precious breathing room. A very skillful move. And he’s also signaling to us. The identity of a Pioneer Knight is a good entry point. He has proven his value and wants official recognition from the royal family.”
Flina nodded. Owen’s analysis aligned with her own thoughts, but that was not all she wanted to know. “Teacher, you previously went to Rosenberg to investigate, didn’t you? What do you think of him as a person?”
At this, Owen’s lips curved into a hint of amusement. “What is this? Has our princess taken an interest in this mysterious knight?” He deliberately stretched his tone in teasing. “Not surprising. What young lady could remain unmoved by a knight who stands forth in times of crisis, both upright and brave? I’ve heard—”
“Teacher!” Princess Flina’s ears turned red at once, and she cut him off in embarrassment.
Owen laughed heartily and stopped teasing her, his expression turning serious once more. “Very well, back to business. I believe that, although he is not yet widely known, he is someone worth winning over.”