After traveling for half a day, Clarence and his men reached the heart of the road that extended towards the neighboring territories. Clarence handed each squad leader a sealed note and warned, “If you are attacked, and defeat is certain, destroy the note before your deaths. If these notes are opened before reaching their intended person for whatever reason. The squad leader shall be hanged. Is that understood?”

All the squad leaders saluted, “Yes, senior knight.”

Clarence nodded his head, “Good. We shall meet back here by the afternoon of tomorrow. Rest well tonight, lads. For tomorrow we return to liberate our territory.” 

The men cheered in unison then departed on their separate routes heading to manors of other lords in the hopes of gathering men.

Clarence continued down the largest and most well-maintained road. If the roads in Wessex were veins. Then they pumped the largest from the strongest of territories and constricted when leading to the weakest. 

The road to Boris’s territory was unpaved and unkempt. Many travelers fell victim to roaming bandits. Before Boris took over, there wasn’t even a road leading to the village. Only natural landmarks guided the way. The well-furnished road Clarence currently traveled on led to the Count, who governed vast swaths of lands owned by viscounts. 

One of the high-ranking officers rode alongside Clarence. From time to time, he looked ahead with worry. After some deliberation, he raised his concerns, “Sir, are we sure Count Dante will be willing to give us support? He and our lord have long been rivals ever since rumors began that Boris was being groomed to take over his position.”

Clarence examined the worried officer for a second as he was lost in thought on this very issue. Looking around, the atmosphere was depressive. No one talked. All silently marched to the point of exhaustion, pushing themselves towards hope. What if hope declined?  I don’t personally know this Count. But there can be no answer other than yes. I may not be strong enough to defeat those monsters, but a count is nothing to me. If that Count is unwilling. I shall drag his army over his corpse. 

A reassuring smile appeared on Clarence’s face, “Be at ease, Peter. Your wife and children are safe. The goddess Zeyana would never abandon man in his time of need. As for Dante, he is honor-bound as a count to ensure the safety of all citizens within his domain. Regardless of the petty squabbles, he may have with the viscount of said territory.”

Peter, hearing about his wife and children, looked sheepishly at Clarence being seen through so easily. He was ashamed that his personal feelings spilled over, “Apologies, sir. It’s just worry clouding my judgment.”

Clarence waved his hand, declining the apology, “As emotions usually do. But fret not, if Count Dante refuses. Then we still have the hope of other lords answering our calls. If they refuse, then place your hopes in me, and I shall march back alone.”

Peter held back tears. This was their senior knight. The only noble any of them respected besides their lord. Peter smashed his fist to his chest, passionately pledging, “Sir, if it comes to that... it would be my honor to die in battle alongside you.”

Clarence gazed firmly at Peter, silently accepting his commitment. With a kick, Clarence hurried his steed along. Riding to the front, he addressed his men, “Listen up, men. We are the lord’s hand, his will, and the image others will see when they imagine him. Times are dire. We all have family back there and worry immensely. But now. Now is not the time for worry. Now is the time for action. Swallow your worry. Let it give you strength. When we ride into Winchester, everyone shall stand tall. We are not here to beg, but to call upon our Count so that we may ride back and save our home.”

The marching men felt inspired and did as Clarence ordered. For now, they swallowed the growing fear in their hearts. With morale raised, the formation moved along. The unison of steps made them sound formidable. Their steeled faces made them look formidable, and their aura made them feel powerful.

Clarence watched the transformation with satisfaction. This was how his men should be. One day, sometime in the future. These same men would march with him. Not to beg for help but to reclaim his birthright. Such a sight would bring a smile to his face. But first, he had to prove his worth as a leader and as a noble.

 

Count Dante sat in his manor. 

He was the characteristic Wessex noble both in appearance and thought. Standing at 6'5, Dante was a commendable height for a man. This year he would be 45. Until a few years ago, his hair was thick and lustrous brown. But after that piggy appeared, gray had been popping up, conquering his mane. No one believed him, but he knew for sure his hair had begun to thin. He knew his posture, which was formed from many years of etiquette training, had picked up a slouch. This was not from overworking, but over worrying.

Under his rule, the territories had been at peace, reforms had been slow, but he was a conservative at heart. He hated those progressive nobles that always wanted to change things. That may be why he had his current fears of being replaced. 

Coming at the tail end of King Edward IV, his son King Alfred III introduced numerous reforms. Reforms that strengthened the church and curtailed the nobility. Reforms that prohibited nobles from maintaining a massive army. Instead, their force limit depended on their status. Reforms that siphoned more taxes from the nobility themselves instead of the masses. As the current expansion and war drained the royal's coffins, more concessions were forced upon the nobility. 

More and more families not of noble birth came into existence as the king gave land-based on merit. The new nobles, unlearned and boorish, basically suckled on the teat of the king, following his every whim. With them, a sizable force of "nobles" actively supported all the reforms targeted against dynastic nobility.

Many counts banded together against these depowering reforms. At first, it seemed Alfred's rule would be reverted to how it was under his father, strong nobility, and weak royal strength. But after the leaders were caught and executed as heathens, the nobility learned to shut the fuck up.

Count Dante was unaffected by this purge, as his family had always stood by the king. Yet, one incident changed this. Just thinking about the incident soured Dante's already somber mood.

Tonight he was having dinner with his wife. Ever since meeting the fat upstart Boris, he never enjoyed being at his small dining table. The manor that had been in his family for generations. The majestic building he once as a child believed to be a labyrinth. Was now a small claustrophobic condo unfit for his status as count. “Ahhhh. Why does the pig get such a giant castle, but I live in this underwhelming mansion.”

His wife Rebecca was used to the usual complaints of her husband. She only repeated, “yes, dear,” every time he complained.

“Did you know he has a moat? A freaking moat. You know the ones where without a drawbridge, no one can cross.” Dante looked at her with indignation as he stubbornly cut into some brisket. 

“Yes, dear,” His wife sipped from her wine glass. She always wondered what was so good about a moat. It was the littlest of things that her husband complained about. With them so deep in Wessex's borders, why would they need a moat? Who were they trying to keep out?

“Do you know what I have? A bloody fence. Not even a mythril cast fence, just normal obsidian grade metal.” Dante shoved the brisket in his mouth, forgetting to even wipe afterward. 

She absentmindedly continued, “Yes, dear.” Their fence was unbreakable by the common folks. Obsidian was a durable metal mined by the dwarves. Mythril was harder but also more expensive. Was he really so insecure with his position to make up for it with other things? She was more interested in why their daughter was not here. Their daughter was much better at getting out of these pity parties than her. It's like her daughter could sense when Dante was in one of his moods. Slipping out without warning or turning in early for the night. The only thing she could do was drink until he finished.

“Then get this, they say he has immense talent and may one day replace me as Count. Me? My family has been serving the kingdom for over 8 generations. The only thing immense about him is his weight. Hmph,” Dante leaned back in anger.

“Good one, dear” The first time she had heard this joke, it was extremely funny. But Dante had used this punchline each and every time he spoke of the supposed immense talent or skill or potential Boris had.

Thinking he had finally got his wife’s attention, Dante leaned forward. “And another thing...”

A butler hurriedly walked in, cutting the worked up Dante off, “My lord, you have visitors.”

Dante stared at the butler with anger, “At this hour? Nonsense. And where do you get off interrupting me in the middle of talking to my wife?”

The butler swallowed his fear. He had faithfully served Dante's family since Dante was a child. The sweet, noble boy used to treat him like a grandfather. Now he was snappy and made a fuss over the smallest of things. It seemed jealousy was the strongest of poisons. Bowing, the butler continued, “My apologies. There is a small force of guards. They come bearing the insignia of Viscount Boris.”

The silverware in Dante’s hand clattered onto the table, making a loud clanking noise. Dante stood up, hastily from his seat with worry in his eye, “Dear Zeyana. Today is the day. Today is the day they take my position by force. I knew it would happen sooner or later. Gather the guards, gather the knights, and bring me that bloody Spartan mercenary. I shall not go quietly into the night.”

The butler paled hearing of such talk, “My lord, I do not believe they are here for your position. Viscount Boris is not among them, and the noble leading the group say they are here to request aid.”

“Aid? What type of aid? Tell those men we have no money to feed that fat blubbering pig.” Dante became furious after mistakenly believing he was about to be disposed of.

The butler lamented internally I am supposed to send away those men? Unlike you, I have no social standing. I would be lucky if they didn’t string me up outside. “My lord, I believe it would be best for you to talk to them..”

Dante lunged towards the butler, smacking him across the face, “And when did you become my advisor?” 

The downed butler sighed. As the head butler, it is one of my duties to advise my lord. You know this, sir.

His wife was just finishing up with her wine and drowsily stood from her seat, “I’ll talk to them if you are too afraid.”

Dante’s face contorted from humiliation, “Afraid? Me? Count Dante afraid? I am not afraid of others. It is others who are afraid of me!” Dante huffed and kicked the butler, “Now go. Carry out my orders, you fool.” Calming down, Dante fixed his hair and suit then walked to the door.  

He opened it to find a man decked in emerald armor, with the presence of a capable leader floating around him. Dante inspected the man and could tell from a glance he was of noble birth. His men all looked towards him with respect and awe. Why did such a fine young man go to that fat blubbering mouth breathing pig?

Clarence nodded to Dante, “Count Dante. I am the senior knight of viscount Boris. It is an honor to finally meet you,” and extended his hand for a shake.

Hearing Boris's name reminded Dante, this was no normal man. But the invading commander of the pig lord. Dante snorted. “Who are you to address me without even kneeling and kissing my ring? Does Boris raise men or dogs in his territory?” and attempted to slap away Clarence’s hand.

Good. I was wondering how I could provoke you without being at fault, but you came right at me instead. Clarence grabbed Dante’s hand, forcing a firm shake, “I am Clarence, a noble from Scottsburg. Senior Knight of Boris’s guards.”

Dante tried to pry his hand free. But Clarence's iron grip continued to put pressure as if he was trying to break Dante's hand. 

Feeling the growing pressure, Dante conceded and returned the shake, “What do you want?”

Satisfied, Clarence released his grip and stated with a smile, “We have come in request of military aid.”

Dante massaged his injured hand as he hissed, “The ongoings of viscount Boris and his power plays are not of my concern. If you require troops to maintain order, either conscript more or request them from the crown.”

Clarence strutted into the mansion as if he were right at home. 

Dante instinctively moved out of his way. 

Clarence retorted, “No, the populace are not the concern. We have run into a far larger issue that could cause harm throughout all your territories. Oh, something smells good.” Clarence walked towards Dante’s dining room uninvited. 

Dante looked at Clarence with spite, but he was too weak to stop the overbearing man. “My wife and I were enjoying dinner before you came by unannounced and ruined it.”

Clarence nodded as if remembering something, “Dinner sounds nice. I’ll eat what you are having. Have some help bring food out to my men. The journey here was long, and they tire of jerky and bread.”

Dante began to fume from this undisguised disrespect, “Now listen here, brat. I don’t know what lowly uncultured city-state you bumpkinly mosied out of to call yourself a noble. But I am a count, and you will treat me with respect.” 

Clarence’s blood began to boil as his wyvern essence pressured Dante, “I don’t have time for pleasantries or civility. We both know you hate Boris, so I’ll keep it short. Put your men under my command, and I will be gone by tomorrow morning.”

Dante backed up but did not back down. He stuttered his refusal, “To hell with that. I am a count of his majesty. You so much as touch me, and you will find yourself strung up along the walls of Essex.”

“I have a feeling the king will believe lord Boris’s account over yours. So, I’m thinking the story that we go with is that I sat you down in my camp for some nice and long negotiations. You were so exhausted from them that you mistakenly had a nightmare. I mean no bruises, no evidence, right?” Clarence's hand reached towards Dante.

Before either of them realized it, a third individual had appeared amongst them. This man was tall and had skin so pale it seemed ash was covering him. He grabbed Clarence’s hand with ease, completely suppressing the wyvern aura. Making some tsk noises, he cautioned, “Would not be good if you harmed my employer. Not one bit. You touch him, and I’d be forced to kill such a young and growing boy. You aren’t ripe yet, boy. Come back in another decade or two.”

Seeing who the man was, Dante regained his calm as a mocking smile unveiled on his face. “Ah, Eros. Thank Zeyana, you are here. Detain this hillbilly.”

Clarence stared at the ashen man with fear. Another monster. “I was kidding, only kidding. But we are in dire need of your aid, Count. I fear that the village of Rye is facing her final days, and I am uncertain of the condition of my lord.”

Dante cackled and slapped Clarence right on the face. Which caused more pain to him than Clarence. But damn, was it worth it. Dante cheered, “Good. Zeyana has finally answered my prayers. That pigman is dead. Ha, it serves him right. And you were so pretentious until now. Even if I were going to help. Why on Titan would I help now? Perhaps they should have sent someone with a bit more muscles in their brain than their arms.”

I can’t fail again. The old man would berate me to death. Clarence kneeled on the ground and swallowed his pride, “Please, I beg you count. The citizens of Rye have no part in your squabbles with my lord. They are innocent. At the end of the day, they are your people as well. Will you abandon them in their time of need?”

Dante studied Clarence for a second, then signaled to Eros to let his arm go. “You bumpkin. Of course, I would not abandon my people. What has happened? Out with it.”

Clarence exhaled then described the events of Haruto’s arrival and the battle that had commenced in the town.

Dante became paler and paler as he heard of such an existence in his own backyard. And here I was, thanking Zeyana.

Eros, on the other hand, began to smile, and a strange aura seeped through periodically that sent chills down Clarence’s neck.  

Dante paced back and forth, digesting everything Clarence had told him. He mused, “If everything you say is true, then sending in average knights would only exacerbate the problem. In my opinion, the best option is to wait for the dragon guard to subjugate the two beings.”

Clarence smashed his fist onto the ground, “No. We must go now, or everyone in the village would be doomed. Besides, those two must have used up much of their energy by now. If we attack now, we can nip it in the bud.”

Dante continued to pace in thought, weighing the pros and cons.

Eros eyed him nonstop as if begging like a dog for him to agree.

Clarence cleared his throat and tried to persuade, “If you go now and subjugate the two fiends. Your name will go down in history as the man who defeated the lich who dared to step foot into Wessex. This one move will wipe away any thoughts of you relinquishing your position to Boris. Of the twelve Count’s, you have the weakest position. But this merit will launch you to the skies and maybe higher.”

Dante stopped pacing. Looking at Clarence with confusion, he questioned, “Are you not a knight of Boris? Why would you suggest this when you know me to be his enemy?”

Clarence returned Dante’s gaze with a determined look, “Because I am willing to betray my lord if it means killing that monster.”

Eros almost wanted to jump in joy. His blood was bubbling from seeing such an expression. He grabbed Clarence, pulling him to his feet. “Well said, boy. Well said. You understand. Oh, it is the homeland of a warrior. It is the only mistress to those who want glory. Even if the Count refuses. I, Eros, will follow you into battle.”

Dante watching his key protector threaten to jump ship, quickly agreed, “Ok, 1000 of my men will march into battle to repel the demihuman menace and lich. I will lead and act as standing general for the combined forces.”

Both Eros and Clarence spat, “No.” at the same time.

Eros shook his head, patting the miserable-looking Dante, “A leader who remains in the back is no leader at all.”

Clarence stood upright, staring deep into Dante’s eyes until Dante flinched, “I will carry the burden of commander. It will be impossible for you to stand before my men. I will lead the coalition in the front, and you will act as the supervisor over the numerous nobles who arrive. Make sure their personal goals don’t inhibit the operation.”

Dante grumbled but still agreed, “But, even then, we have to gather the other forces and logistics to sustain a marching army. It will take some time.”

Clarence shook his head, “No, there is no time for that. I have already sent my men to gather the other forces. I only came here because I believed a letter would be an insult towards your dignity.”

Dante humphed, “More like you knew I wouldn’t read it.”

Clarence smiled in ridicule, “Correct. So, gather as many men as you can tonight. Tomorrow we march back to Rye.”

“Tomorrow? Are you crazy? Do you know how long it will take me to gather my men? I will be running around until the sun rises.” Dante tried to argue back.

But Clarence cut him off, “Good, then they will be ready to leave right on time. My men will camp out front for tonight. I will use one of your guest rooms.”

Eros ran off without saying anything to the two, once again leaving Dante at Clarence’s mercy.

Seeing this, Dante could only suck it up and go about gathering his men. If not for Clarence’s haughtiness, this current situation would not be so bad. If Dante gained enough credit, it would become impossible for even the crown to remove his title. With this in mind, he cheered up a bit, “The guest bedroom is on the fourth floor sixth door on the left. As for your men, I will have some maids bring them supper. If that is all. I bid you goodnight.”

Early in the morning, around 4:50 am Clarence, rose from the bed. He stretched lightly, looking at the bed silently for a moment. To think Boris would have better beds than a count. They really are showing favoritism. But to the advantage of Dante and me, it appears Boris will be taking a slumber for the rest of time. Clarence picked up a bell from the nightstand and shook it.

After the third shake, a maid’s voice could be heard through the door, “My lord, do you require something?”

Clarence hopped about to loosen up his body, “Yes. Prepare me 10 scrambled eggs, a cup of milk, 4 pieces of toast, and uhm, something sweet.”

“Right away, my lord” The maid moved away from the door. Clarence listened as her footsteps became more and more quiet. He could hear her traveling down the stairs. Her greeting the other maids and butlers. He heard her until she reached the first floor. And if he focused, he could still hear her.

Leaning against a window, Clarence watched the early sunrise. To think I grow stronger by the day. Requis really knew what he was talking about. Soon I will ascend to the blooded knight tier. But even then, no matter how strong I grow, a new monster always seems to pop up. 

After ten minutes, Clarence heard the maid’s soft footsteps approaching, then her voice traveled through the door once again, “My lord. I have your meal prepared. May I come in?”

“Come in,” Clarence remained gazing out the window.

The maid came in through the door only to pause when she saw the handsome Clarence. He looked majestic, sitting in front of the opened window. It appeared the sunlight was delicately illuminating his face to show its grandeur to the world. His almond-colored hair shined brilliantly and flowed freely. Unlike the other military men, as a noble, Clarence enjoyed keeping his hair past his neck. With the sun, his dark brown eyes lightened up to show their usually hidden luster.

Clarence took one more breath of fresh air before smiling, “Thank you, my dear. It smells wonderful.”

The maid couldn’t help but blush, as Clarence was only wearing thin cotton pants. He had left the town in such a hurry he only packed his armor, no sleeping attire. Had he not stayed the night at Count Dante’s place, it would be fine. But how could he sleep in full armor on a comfy bed? The bed would break before he even closed his eyes.

Clarence noticing the maid was in a daze, reached out for his food.

The blushing maid instinctively stepped back. But upon realizing what she was doing stepped forward and placed his food on the table. “Is there anything else you require, my lord? Perhaps help with morning care?” The maid turned an intense red with a shy smile plastered on her face after saying this sentence.

Clarence looked at the blushing young maid, barely able to contain his laughter. Haha. Me, a noble lying with a maid of all people. Some people truly are delusional. Still, he had an image to maintain, “No, my dear. Your smile is more than enough.”

The maid curtsied to Clarence, still indulging in her fantasies. “Thank you, my lord. If you change your mind, you need only summon me.”

Clarence nodded and sat down to enjoy his food.

Not five seconds after the maid had left, Dante burst into the room in a hurry. He was out of breath and, for a moment, stood there, breathing heavily.

Clarence started cutting into his eggs and eating semi-quickly. 

Dante caught his breath then stared venomously at the well-rested and now eating Clarence. “Well. Like I said, it really did take until sunrise. But everyone has been gathered and are prepared to march.”

Clarence nodded his head as he continued to eat.

Dante became mildly annoyed seeing this, “Shall we depart?”

Clarence continued to eat. Finishing his eggs, then moving on to the toast.

Dante tapped his foot on the ground in impatience, “Your men have eaten and are also ready.”

Finishing his toast, Clarence moved onto the french toast with some sugar and cinnamon lightly sprinkled on it. Finally, he commented, “Mmm, this is very tasty.”

Dante was fuming now, “Fuck the food, let’s go!”

Clarence sipped slowly on his milk.

The impatient Dante felt like he was going insane.

After what felt an eternity, Clarence finished his food and wiped his mouth. “I was taking my time so that you may eat. But I suppose jerky and bread will have to suffice.”

Dante’s jaw dropped. He forgot all about eating. After running about the entire night, he came straight here to get going. His stomach angrily grumbled as if annoyed to have been forgotten for so long. “Well, maybe we can wait a...”

Clarence rose from his chair, “Nonsense, we set out immediately. Where is the ashen one?”

Dante smacked his lips in anger both at himself for being so stupid and the bully Clarence for playing him like a fool, “He said something about a ritual and that he’ll catch up after.”

Clarence nodded and complimented, “That’s fine. He will be a great asset in battle.” Then he spoke plainly to Dante, “I don’t like you.” Dante opened his mouth to reply, but Clarence continued, “And you don’t like me.”

Dante remained quiet, but his eyes showed just how much he had begun to despise Clarence.

Clarence declared, “But this achievement shall be one shared between the two of us. Let our petty feud be set aside, so that humanity may unite and crush her true foes.”

Dante’s eyes lost a bit of the hate and admitted, “Well said. Only by ensuring our safety can we even have time to hate. So Clarence of Scottsburg. I will handle the rabid nobles in the back. I only hope you can handle the rabid monsters in the front.”

Clarence laughed and teased, “If I can’t. You won’t have to worry about those nobles for long.”

The two men embarked from the mansion, gathered their combined arms and began their march to the agreed meeting location.