by Michael Sisa
VOLUME 4: CHAPTER 1
A few months had passed since the Empire took over Yorkshaire City. More than half of the western part of the Kingdom had been seized by the Empire’s forces. Several cities of the Kingdom had already fallen to the Empire’s hands.
After Lancaster’s capture, The Kelvin Duchy was crippled, and the overall fighting strength of the Kingdom started to collapse. At this rate, it would only be a matter of time before the Empire annexed the entire Kingdom.
Yosef, a balding middle-aged soldier, was the messenger tasked to deliver the crown’s decree to Blackstone Town. For the past several weeks, he had been travelling non-stop from the capital, along with several other messengers tasked to deliver the decree to the other nobles.
“Let’s see,” he mumbled. “This is Blackstone Town, huh?”
This was the most remote of all the territories in the east. A town located in the middle of the wilderness, right at the entrance of the Endless Forest. The place was so remote that the town was not even drawn on the map.
Just looking at the town from afar, Yosef immediately came to the conclusion that this place would be unable to provide any reinforcements for the Kingdom. Forget one thousand soldiers. Even half that would be asking too much.
“Finally,” he said. “Let’s get the job done and go back to the capital.”
He was confident that the messengers had done their duties well. By estimate, they had managed to gather almost twelve thousand soldiers from the various nobles all throughout the eastern part of the Kingdom. All that was left was this town.
He knew there was no way this town could provide the Kingdom with a thousand soldiers, so he should at least bring its Lord back with him to the capital.
Yosef entered the town and was surprised by the vibrant atmosphere. The residents of Blackstone Town held confident gaits, their movements filled with purpose. Children were seen playing on the streets, laughing, while the adults moved around on their way.
“What’s this…” He frowned as he tapped the ground using his foot. It made several soft thud sounds.
Unlike the other towns and villages he’d went to before, all the roads in this town were paved, and there was even a large main road leading toward the heart of Blackstone Town. Even a portion of the road he passed through in the forest was cobbled.
He learned from his time in the military academy of the grave significance of roads. It usually signified the stability of one’s territory. Most Lords neglected such mundane things and would allocate more of their resources to military and farming, but the wiser ones tend to invest more on securing their accessibility to nearby territories. After all, there were limits to how much a territory could prosper on its own. And this was especially true with a town like this—a town located in the middle of the wilderness.
“Excuse me.” He smiled and approached the children playing on the street. “Do you know where the Lord of this town lives?”
One of the children pointed. “The Young Master lives over there, mister!”
“Why’s that grandpa looking for the Young Master?”
“Who cares?”
“Hey, give me the ball back!”
Yosef wryly smiled after hearing that one of them called him grandpa.
I don’t even have a kid yet. I’m not that old.
He sighed and walked toward the direction the child pointed at. Soon, he arrived at a mansion. Numerous carts were parked near the mansion’s entrance. Several workers unloaded large wooden crates from them every now and then.
This place was surprisingly bustling with life.
“So this is where the Lord lives, huh?”
He was about to approach one of the servants next to the gate when a voice called out to him.
“Yosef.”
Yosef halted in his tracks and slowly turned around. He frowned when he saw a hooded figure walking toward his direction.
“Who are you?” he asked cautiously.
The hooded figure stopped right in front of him, before slowly pulling down his hood and revealing the scar-ridden face underneath.
“I-Instructor!” Yosef croaked. “W-What are you doing here?”
The person before him was his former martial arts instructor back in the military academy. One of the few knights who survived the Bloody Thorn Plains Incident fifteen years ago. Mikael Garios.
Mikael looked around them. The workers were still busily unloading the goods from the carts, while the mansion’s servants directed them inside.
“This is no place to talk,” said Mikael. “Follow me.”
With Mikael at the lead, the two of them went toward a deserted alley. Mikael leaned on the wall and scrutinized Yosef from head to foot. “Messenger duty?”
Yosef nodded. “Yes, Sir. I’m sure you’ve heard of the war in the west by now.”
“So it’s finally time for Lark Marcus to move out, huh?” mumbled Mikael. “Those monsters… Does he really plan on bringing those things with him to war?”
“Monsters?” Yosef could not understand the words his former instructor was mumbling about. “What do you mean, sir?”
Mikael smiled wryly. “You’ll find out soon.”
There was a pause. Mikael’s gaze turned fierce and serious. “Yosef, do your best to bring Lark Marcus to the capital. The Kingdom, as it is now, needs him.”
Mikael’s serious gaze sent shivers down Yosef’s spine. He could not understand why his former instructor was placing such grave importance on this mission. After all, according to their intel, Lark Marcus was nothing but a malignant piece of trash disowned by his own family.
As for the rumors that Lark Marcus was the one who incited an all-out war between the Kingdom and Empire—Yosef did not believe it even for a second. There was even that absurd rumor about him defeating the Third Legion of the United Grakas Alliance. They were all fabrications, Yosef was sure.
After all, how could a single person achieve all those feats in just a single year?
Seeing the gaze of Yosef, who clearly did not place grave importance on this task of bringing Lark back with him to the capital, Mikael asked, “Yosef, let’s say… If I joined the war in the west, would I make a much of a difference?”
Yosef pondered for a moment. He nodded. “Of course. I’m sure that Instructor Mikael could kill a hundred ordinary soldiers of the Empire by himself. And the instructor is well-versed in the art of war. It would surely be a great boost to our forces if you were to join the war with the Empire.”
Yosef was not trying to flatter Mikael. He simply held him in high regard.
“If an old man like me can make such difference, then Lark Marcus could surely tilt the tide of war,” said Mikael. “Yosef, I’ve been watching that young man for several months now. He’s a genius in warfare. And with just swordsmanship alone, he’s my rival.”
Had someone else said these things, Yosef would have accused them of being delusional. But these were the words of Instructor Mikael. The same well-respected instructor who ranked among the strongest in the military academy. A person like him would not just blabber nonsensically.
“Genius in warfare? A swordsmanship rival…” Yosef found it hard to digest these words.
“The Third Legion,” said Mikael. “You heard the rumors, didn’t you?”
Yosef’s eyes widened. “W-Wait! You mean… It’s true? Lark Marcus defeated a ten thousand-strong beastmen army using only a thousand soldiers?”
Yosef’s heart started thumping loudly. He had planned to do his best on this job and bring back Lark Marcus with him to the capital, despite knowing that the noble was nothing but an incompetent brat. But after hearing all these things directly from his former instructor’s
mouth, Yosef realized that this mission entrusted to him might actually influence the outcome of the war with the Empire.
He had not expected that this simple mission may actually dictate the rise or fall of the Kingdom.
“Everything is true,” Mikael said confidently. “I’ve seen everything with my own eyes.”
Yosef shuddered.
“Lark Marcus. That young man is a monster. Even the Elders of the Magic Tower couldn’t defeat him.”
“The Magic Tower? You mean…”
Mikael nodded. “Yes. It’s him.”
Yosef had heard that a few months ago, an unknown individual stormed the Wizzert Tower and defeated all of its magicians. No one knew the reason why the assailant did it, but the mere fact that he single-handedly defeated all of the magicians of the Tower made him the most wanted man in Wizzert.
Even the capital was trying to find his whereabouts in hopes of reeling him into their ranks. According to their intel, the royal family was willing to pardon all grievances as long as the man agreed to work with them.
“So the reason why the capital suddenly stopped searching for him…”
Realization dawned unto Yosef.
Mikael must have reported everything to the King. And after realizing the identity of the perpetrator, they ceased all attempts to find him.
“Yosef, do you understand now? How important your mission is this time?”
Yosef swallowed hard. “Y-Yes.”
Mikael smiled. “Good.”
“You won’t find the Young Master in the mansion. He’s currently at the Eastern District, training the soldiers.” Mikael tapped Yosef’s shoulder. “I’m already late for work. See you at the capital.”
“You’re working in this town?” Yosef asked, incredulously.
“Of course. I need to feed myself, right?” Mikael chuckled. “See you around.”
He went out of the alley, leaving Yosef behind.
After Mikael left, Yosef leaned on the wall, his forehead filled with beads of sweat. He was starting to feel the heavy of weight of responsibility that had just landed on his shoulders.
Although it was decreed by the crown, there were some nobles who adamantly refused to go to the front lines–the nobles who considered their lives far more important than anything else in the world.
Yosef started praying to the Gods that Lark Marcus would come with him, without a hitch or strife.
“Yosef, you can do this!” He slapped his cheeks several times. Filled with determination, he left the alley, asked for directions to the Eastern District, and went there.
The Eastern District was a lot different than the rest of the town. It felt like it was where all the developments first came from. The houses were newly made, each of them identical. It gave a newcomer like Yosef a sense of congruity, the same feeling when he finally put the final piece in a puzzle.
Like the mansion, this place was bustling with life. The Central Plaza was filled with several stalls, and people were gathered here and there.
After some time, he finally found the Young Master.
“Two hundred more laps! Go! Go!”
Inside a large clearing, a young man with silver hair was running in front of a group of soldiers. With him at the lead, they ran around in circles, their hands holding their spears.
Yosef watched their group for a while longer, waiting for the training to end. When they finally finished the laps, they suddenly started thrusting their spears into the air, repeating the same movement over and over again.
Judging by the expressions of the soldiers, this was part of their daily routine, as none of them even spouted a word of complaint.
They’re still not done yet?
Yosef waited for a couple of hours, and finally the Young Master entrusted the training to one of his men and headed out.
“Lark Marcus?” With confident strides, Yosef approached him.
Lark wiped the sweat on his forehead with a towel. He stared at Yosef and waited for him to speak.
Yosef cleared his throat. “Yosef Agarov. One of the messengers of the royal family.”
“A messenger.” Lark opened a skin flash and took several gulps of water. “Ah, that hits the spot. So, you’re here to take me to the front lines?”
Yosef was glad that Lark was quick on the uptake. “Yes, Sir. That’s right.”
Lark looked at the soldiers training behind him, then at Yosef. “I’ve already briefed those guys. They’re coming with me to the front lines. All the rations have been prepared. We can move out tomorrow morning at the earliest.”
Yosef was stunned by how easy this mission was. To think that Lark Marcus was already intent on going to the front lines! Yosef inwardly did a fist pump.
“That’s great!” Yosef squeaked in glee. His eyes were glimmering with delight.
After hearing about Lark’s feats directly from Mikael’s mouth, Yosef was even prepared to kneel down and beg the noble to come back with him to the capital. But now, he realized that all of his worries were for naught.
Seeing Yosef’s face, Lark chuckled. He turned around and shouted at the soldiers, “Hey, guys! The messenger is here! We’re moving to the front lines tomorrow morning!”
The soldiers stopped stabbing the air and looked at each other, before bursting into cheers.
“Finally!”
“I’ve been itching to show those bastards the might of the Blackstone Soldiers!”
“We can’t let the Young Master go there alone, can we?”
“Hahaha! Of course!”
Yosef was surprised of their overly optimistic response to this announcement.
Lark grinned. He could sympathize with the startled expression on Yosef’s face. Even he was surprised when the soldiers approached him one day and insisted that they should all accompany him to the battlefield. At first, he’d planned on going to the front lines with only his disciples and the living suits of armor, but after pondering about it overnight, he came to the conclusion that it would be better to take these guys with him.
The living suits of armor could not speak and think for themselves. The battle at the Western Front would not always be a contest of strength. It would greatly benefit him to have coherent soldiers around.
“Everyone! Rest for now.” Lark’s voice reverberated. “Be sure to spend the rest of the day with your family. Tomorrow, we’ll march toward the front lines!”
“Yes, Young Master!”
“Yes, Sir!”
***
Yosef spent the night inside the mansion. When morning came, he was invited to a sumptuous breakfast with the Young Master.
“Mister messenger, over here.” Lark waved at him and gestured for him to sit on a nearby chair.
Just like before, the Young Master looked carefree, as though he was not even the slightest bit worried about coming to the front lines at all. He was even half-humming as he devoured the food on his plate.
“How can you be so carefree? Aren’t you afraid?” Yosef finally asked. “You could die in that battle. They were not kidding around when they said that they’ll be sending you to the front lines.”
Although he was supposed to be doing his best to persuade Lark to come to the front lines, Yosef could not help but ask.
Lark swallowed the meat in his mouth. He sipped the wine from his goblet and gave a simple reply. “Afraid? I am.”
“Then why—”
“—But we never know when we’ll get the chance to eat such luxurious feasts again, right? Why not enjoy it now?” Lark grinned at him. “Mister messenger, only fools would say they are completely sure of winning a battle. In war, no matter how strong you are, there’s always the risk of losing one’s life. Fools who believe that their strength could topple every obstacle are usually the first ones to kick the bucket. I’ve seen a lot of them before. Those foolish, arrogant bastards.”
Lark Marcus sounded like an old man who had been to numerous battlefields, which felt incongruent as Yosef looked at the noble�
��s youthful appearance.
Yosef smiled. He had not expected to receive such a reply.
“You’re right. Who knows when we will eat such extravagant breakfast again?”
After mumbling those words, he started eating to his heart’s content. Lark called out the servants and ordered them to bring more food to the table. The messenger had quite the appetite, it seemed.
After filling their bellies full, the two of them packed their things and left the mansion. They went toward the outskirts of town. The butler and a few hundred residents were waiting for them there.
“Young Master! Good luck in battle!”
“Please come back safe!”
“Destroy those dogs of the Empire for us!”
Surprisingly, despite the noble’s notorious reputation, he seemed to be loved by his people. The butler—an old man wearing a suit—bawled his eyes out as he saw the Young Master off. Even some of the servants held back tears.
“So the meeting point is the capital, right?” said Lark.
“That’s right,” said Yosef. “All of the reinforcements are to gather at the capital. From there, the soldiers will be distributed into several larger armies, before heading out to the front lines.”
Lark nodded his approval at this tactic. The nobles were divided into different factions. It would be more efficient to gather all the reinforcements first then divide them into different armies.
“I didn’t get to ask you this last time…” said Yosef. “How many soldiers are you bringing with you to the capital?”
Lark gave a nonchalant reply. “Around two hundred, I guess.”
Yosef creased his brows. He could only see around a hundred soldiers.
Lark noticed Yosef’s quizzical gaze. “The remaining soldiers, they’re waiting over there.” Lark pointed at the nearby forest. “You’ll see them soon.”
After giving enough time for the soldiers to say their goodbyes to their families, Lark mounted his horse. He shouted, “Blackstone Soldiers! Move out!”
“Hooah!”
“Hooah!”
Yosef also mounted his horse and followed Lark from behind. Soon, they came near the forest.
And he was struck speechless by what he saw.
Around a hundred soldiers—no, knights—were waiting near the forest’s entrance. Each of them was wearing full plate armor, with swords hanging by their waists.
