Chapter 124 : The Secret Within
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Chapter 124

The Secret Within

 

The Lord of Korelia's Command Tent

Audrey looked at the gem-encrusted silver necklace in her palm, carefully checking it by instinct alone. Meanwhile, Lansius was still waiting for Ingrid's response to his question.

Why would a powerful guild have interest in a no-man's-land like Lowlandia?

The educator exhaled softly before explaining, "There are two reasons, both equally important. One is to support efforts to stop the infighting in Lowlandia for the good of the Imperium. The second reason is that, like any other guild, the mage guild is concerned about the situation in the Imperium. Rumors have it that the war around the Capital has started. Right now, the guild is seeking allies and looking for possible safe havens."

Lansius felt something was odd. "Why does it sound as if the mage guild is responsible for thousands of people?"

"My Lord is perceptive. Indeed, while the guild only accounts for several hundreds, we couldn't abandon the people who have supported us."

"I never knew the guild cared so much for commoners," Audrey commented.

"Without the people who supported us, the guild wouldn't survive," Ingrid replied almost naturally.

Lansius pondered the practical reason. While it reassured him to a degree, he couldn't shake a lingering doubt about their motivation.

"Where is your guild located?" Audrey asked as she handed the necklace to Lansius, who for the first time inspected it closely.

"The guild has several branches, but the closest is located near the Nicopola and Elearis border."

"Do you know an old Mage-Hunter by the name of Isolte?" Audrey changed the subject.

Ingrid tried to recall the name but shook her head. "I can't recall anyone with that name."

Audrey nodded, muttering, "She's probably from another branch."

"The Tiberia branch is indeed larger. Is she a friend?"

"She was my old master. She died on a hunting trip several years ago."

"My condolences," Ingrid said politely.

With Audrey having nothing more to say, Lansius stepped up, "Tell me, what exactly does this gemstone do?"

"In times of need, it can give My Lord a few minutes of physical power. Enough to get you out of trouble."

"So, it's for fighting?"

"You may use it as such, but its primary usage is for emergency. When My Lord is wounded, the gemstone will react and hopefully close the bleeding without needing to remove the armor."

"That's clever," Lansius commented. "Is there any spell to activate the gem or any other specifics?"

"You don't have to, My Lord. It's best to let it work on its own when the time is right. Think of it as a protective charm."

Lansius nodded. "How many times can I use it?"

"Once, My Lord."

"And after that?" he followed up.

"It must be returned to us. For a gemstone this potent, the guild will imbue it with magic, but it would take weeks."

So, essentially, a heal with only one effective charge.

"Is there any passive effect when I'm wearing this?" Lansius' curiosity got the best of him.

"Passive effect...?" Ingrid pondered and looked at Lansius with a hint of suspicion as she spoke, "None to my knowledge. The guild has studied such gemstones, and we have yet to uncover any hidden effects."

Putting the mentor's suspicion aside, he asked again, "Allow me one more question. How rare is this again?"

"We are not allowed to discuss it My lord, but we know several were treated as heirlooms in high nobles families."

Lansius looked at Audrey, noticing some slight worry, and gave the necklace back to her. "For now, keep it for me."

Ingrid must've sensed their hesitation. "My Lord, My Lady, if there are no other questions, I'll take my leave. We can begin My Lady's education tomorrow morning and mage training at night."

"Is there a particular reason for night training?" Audrey inquired.

"While it's not physical, it can be quite exhausting to the body. So, it'll be best if the trainee sleeps afterward to regain her stamina," Ingrid explained.

Audrey gazed at her squarely. "Will it be dangerous if I had a child in my womb?"

The words felt like a cold bath to Lansius. Is she expecting? Can she even tell if she's pregnant?

"Are you expecting, My Lady?" Ingrid asked without hesitation.

"I haven't felt the changes," she revealed.

"Worry not, My Lady. It has happened before, and many reported that the child grew as normal as expected of them."

 

***

 

Three Hills

Not even a month had passed, yet the recruits from South Hill, who had recently joined, were already comfortable with their new Lord. During their brief time marching together, they observed the Lord marching as if he were just an ordinary footman, carrying his own bag and subjecting himself to grueling marches on foot.

This action quickly endeared him to the recruits, who had few expectations of their new overlord. They recognized him as a leader who truly knew the weight of his commands. As a result, their feelings for him deepened beyond fear and respect, evolving into genuine trust and affection.

During meal times and marches, they expressed hopes that the Lord would unite all of Lowlandia, bring peace, and elevate the province to unprecedented heights.

Their arrival in Three Hills City, met with open arms and a welcoming feast, reinforced their belief that a united Lowlandia was within reach, not a far-fetched dream.

Driven by genuine joy, the troops and camp followers enthusiastically shared stories of the Lord's actions and achievements in every place they visited in Three Hills City. The tradesmen and commoners, hearing these tales, clearly recognized them as expressions of admiration, born out of a desire to spread the joy they felt.

It was easy to see that these men, from various backgrounds and origins, were simply enchanted by their streak of victories and escapes from troubling situations that often seemed impossible to win.

Unsurprisingly, among his men, the Nicopolans quickly grew almost as fanatical as the Korelian recruits. The Lord's success in saving thousands from the brink of destruction and hunger was seen as something greater than the work of a mere man.

In South Hill, Lord Lansius had turned the Nicopolans into farmers, yet nobody complained. Instead, they were grateful for the chance to earn their bread instead of taking it from someone else's cold, lifeless hand.

While outwardly they joked that the Lord had turned them from armed refugees into beggars, from beggars into footmen, and now, from footmen into farmers, it wasn’t mockery. Truthfully, they labored in bliss, knowing from experience that famine and winter treated all equally, regardless of background.

Without food, fire, and warmth, Nicopolans or Lowlandians would be reduced to mere names on wooden grave markers, if they were fortunate enough to have anyone left to bury them.

The Lord's success in giving them the chance to settle down, albeit temporarily, tending farms in serene peace, and waiting for the crops to mature, was nothing short of a miracle for those who, until a season ago, had eaten grey meat just to survive.

Thus, it was inevitable that a personality cult venerating the Lord and Lady emerged among them. This shared bond united the men from Arvenia, Midlandia, Korelia, Korimor, and Nicopola. Under such circumstances, the men from South Hill were more than eager to join, convinced they were part of something greater.

In just three nights, these men and their stories had left a lasting impression on the people of Three Hills City. The commoners grew hopeful towards this mysterious Lord, now the city's powerful ally. Despite various rumors about the Black Lord, the commoners of Lowlandia respected power and had no issue aligning themselves with the Blue and Bronze banner.

However, not everyone was swayed. Many powerful families remained skeptical, becoming increasingly wary of the Lord of Korelia's expanding power and influence.

 

***

 

The day of marching finally arrived. The troops arrayed on the open plains outside the city, slowly assuming formation. Divided into columns, the Lord of Korelia's army was soon joined by the Lord of Three Hills' army.

For this campaign, House Lansius & Audrey commanded:

10 South Hill Knights, led by Sir Harold

40 Cavalry, led by Sir Harold

30 Nomadic horse archers and scouts, led by one of Batu's sworn brothers

50 Mounted Crossbowmen, led by Dietrich

300 Dragoons, equipped like men-at-arms and with crossbows, led by Lady Audrey

50 South Hill men at arms, led by Sterling

300 Nicopolan Regiment on foot, led by Servius

1,300 Nicopolan army on foot, led by Lord Lansius

700 Nicopolan camp followers

There were also an additional four trained dogs for nighttime security.

Meanwhile, House Jorge commanded:

30 mounted Black Knights

100 Three Hills men at arms

300 Three Hills levied troops

After securing his family in carriages, Jorge dismounted not far from Lansius, and the two greeted each other warmly. After scanning the sky and horizon, Jorge said, "It is a fine day to march."

Lansius followed Jorge's gaze, commenting, "Hopefully, it isn't too hot, so we can cover a good distance."

"Knowing the region, I think it'll be a cloudy day," Jorge replied, in high spirits.

The two chuckled and motioned to each other to sit as they waited for the army and its logistical preparations to be complete. Soon, the scouting elements and vanguard marched ahead.

While waiting for the main army, Jorge, seated with Lansius beneath a large field umbrella, asked, "Lord Lansius, if you don't mind satisfying my curiosity, how do you make your men so... loyal? They seem happy to march even with heavy burdens."

Lansius chuckled. "There's really no secret. I think you know more about leadership than I do, My Lord."

"Well, there must be something you're doing differently, because it's not something I can simply tell my men to do," Jorge said, referring to how Lansius' army carried their supplies on their backs instead of relying on mules or carts.

"The terrain in Umberland will be difficult, so I need some flexibility in case of opportunity or threats."

Lord Jorge nodded, slightly disappointed with the lack of a detailed explanation.

Noticing this, and aware that Lord Jorge was an open-minded noble who didn't ask questions merely to pass the time but out of genuine curiosity and a willingness to learn, Lansius decided to answer him seriously. "Back in my birthplace, I knew a legendary hero named Chesty Puller. He's the most remarkable war leader I've ever known."

Jorge's eyes flickered, and his face showed attentiveness. "Hearing that from you, he must be special. How does he compare to you?"

"I'm nothing compared to him. Like a firefly to the sun. He's who I aspire to be."

Intrigued, Jorge pressed, "What kind of leader was he that makes you aspire to be like him?"

"It's simple, My Lord. Simple but hard to do..." Lansius admitted.

"Tell me more about him," Jorge asked, his curiosity as pure as that of an innocent child.

Lansius gathered his thoughts and said, "Chesty taught us never to let down our troops. Even though he was a leader, he marched, ate, and slept among his men, never asking for special treatment. He even ordered his field kitchen to serve his men first, before himself."

Jorge readily nodded, fascinated by the story.

"He always went to where the battles were. When there was no battle, he fought bandits. When there was a battle, he led from the front, often surrounded and against much larger forces, but he never yielded. When other leaders cowered, Chesty courageously stood up, cockily exposed himself to the enemy, and in that way, he led his men from destruction to victory."

"What a prime example of an ideal hero," Jorge commented heartily.

"Indeed. He's bold, forceful, and aggressive but never reckless. He demanded the best from his men, but they knew they could count on him. Chesty often personally ensured that his wounded men got the best treatment." Lansius then looked at Jorge. "What fascinated me the most is: he always stayed with his troops. Hard pouring rain, frozen snow, knee-deep mud, wet soggy clothes and all. He stayed and fought with them."

Jorge nodded deeply, absorbing what was being told. "And how did his men treat him?"

"They treated him like a devout son to his father. They followed him willingly even in the hardest of fighting. Even when the losses were high, his men never gave up out of respect for their beloved leader."

The Lord of Three Hills' face brightened up, and he humbly said, "There's so much to learn."

"Even I'm still learning," Lansius said. Then, inspired by the story he had just recounted, he looked at his squire. "Sigmund, let someone else walk my horse. Today, I'll walk with my men."

Seeing this, Lord Jorge announced, "Then I shall join you. Let me walk by your side."

The men in formation closest to them were thrilled, and the news quickly spread from the column nearest to them to the furthest. Soon, all the troops were excited, and cheers erupted from both armies at this show of solidarity.

The only dissent came from the Baroness, who rode up to Lansius. "My Lord, you promised to ride beside me."

"Apologies, My Lady, but I think I'll march, at least for this day," Lansius responded.

"But you'll get-"

"I'll be fine. I'm feeling good," he reassured her.

Audrey shook her head and massaged her temple before quickly dismounting. "Then, I'll be walking as well."

The Lady's declaration prompted even more cheering from the troops, who found this situation particularly funny but encouraging.

"You can't," Lansius objected.

"Why not?" Audrey asked firmly.

"You might be expecting," Lansius blurted out.

The statement hushed the crowd. Voices stopped. The staff, the knights, the men—everyone exchanged glances and whispered until someone shouted, "The Lady is pregnant!"

With hoarse voices, the three thousand around them yelled as loudly as they could, celebrating as if they had just won another victory. Other columns heard and joined in, breaking formation to see the Lady they revered. The air was filled with raw jubilation.

Caught in the moment, Audrey could only grin and blush at the overwhelming well-wishes.

Audrey gave him the look, whispering, "But Lans, I'm not sure—"

"We can't be sure. You can't be sure," Lansius said cheerfully while shouldering his backpack.

Lord Jorge and his knights could only grin as they watched the situation unfold and felt similarly empowered. Thus, with high morale, the two armies marched to Umberland.

 

***

 

Three Hills City

Five days after Lord Jorge and Lord Lansius marched to Umberland, the secret meetings among the city's powerful men intensified.

"We should wait until we know the outcome of their campaign in Umberland," one urged his cohorts.

Facing him was a young gentleman who haughtily replied, "The House that I represent will not entertain such cowardly action. We beseech you all to proceed as planned."

Another person added, "Indeed, we have bribed enough, and they, with no shame, asked for more. I say it's time for us to reap what we sow!"

"He is right," one exclaimed as he stood up. "We have all the support we need. The wolf is gone; now it's time to take the den."

The sound of reason fell deaf against the clamor of greed and hubris, masked as glory and honor.

That night, while the commoners slept, three hundred men in several groups launched their coup. One group headed directly to the castle, and another to the gatehouse to prevent news from spreading. The attack took the relaxed guardsmen by surprise. Despite fighting courageously, they were betrayed by some of their officers who had been bribed.

Without the Black Knights, the guardsmen were forced to retreat to their holdout, where fighting continued as doors and barred gates were successively broken into.

As dawn broke, the castle was isolated from the city, with only the main keep and its immediate surroundings remaining under the control of Lord Jorge's loyalists. They fought valiantly, but the betrayal had sealed their fate. Now, the rebels were negotiating with them, offering protection in exchange for surrender.

When this yielded no results, they resorted to threats.

"Do we need to bring your families here? We know where they live," the thugs commanding the attack shouted.

"Wouldn't it be unfortunate if something happened to your wives and daughters?" another threatened, his words followed by echoes of laughter.

Knowing Lord Lansius still had his men there, the rebels, having secured the gatehouse, sent their forces to round them up.

Little did they know what awaited them.

...

 

Guest House

"Dame, they're coming for us," Farkas warned, having received the latest intel from his men in disguise who had worked through the night, detecting fighting in the castle and the gatehouse.

Daniella exhaled sharply and rose from the crates of bolts on which she had been sitting. "I think it's time. Ready the men."

Farkas smiled. "With pleasure," he said and ran toward the adjacent stable and other buildings in the vicinity.

Daniella calmly prepared her new custom crossbow, and her men followed suit, grins on their faces. "So, stupid. They're going against the Black Lord with such a half-assed attempt."

That mockery was well-received, and many chuckled as they checked their blades and armor.

"It took them long enough to find their courage," one responded as he donned his helmet.

"Five days, I've been eating dry rations with little ale, waiting for action."

"The waiting is just horrendous," another Nicopolan commented amidst the chuckles.

Daniella, clad in armor and looking as beautiful as a marble sculpture of a demigod, gazed at the dozens of men who had crammed into the guest house. "You've endured shit. I have endured shit. Now, let's make them all pay."

The men cheered at her simple yet effective rallying cry.

Then, thumping footsteps were heard. Several black knights entered the premises casually through the front door. The leading knight removed his helmet, revealing a hawkish man with slightly curly long brown hair.

"Ah, Sir Morton, so you've received the word?" Daniella asked.

"Indeed," the Black Knight Captain replied briefly. "Are your men ready? May I lead the charge?"

"The pleasure is all mine," Daniella replied.

Their exchange wasn't lost on their men, who chuckled and grinned cautiously.

Sir Morton gazed at each of them and said, "Gratitude for the assistance," to the Nicopolans and Korelians. Then, as he donned his helmet, he added, "Give them no mercy."

The last word echoed ice-cold, charged with contained rage for the traitors.

 

***

 

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