Grand Duke Fisablen rose early — as one grew old, sleep came less easily. But the Grand Duke himself never considered himself old. Nearly seventy, yes, but he was a Third-Rank Great Swordmaster; his body functioned like that of a man in his fifties, robust and vigorous. Just last night he had summoned two palace maids to help him relax — twice.
The reason he couldn't sleep was probably that he had too much on his mind. Xinti still hadn't returned — could something have happened to her? Scouts sent to the Sabaji Duchy reported that at the end of last year, Xinti had entered the White Heron Lake marshlands together with two other Great Swordmasters to search for that
Xinti should be fine. She was a Third-Rank Great Swordmaster, after all. When she had broken through to that rank three years ago, even he had been surprised. It was precisely because of her advancement that he had decided to launch a surprise attack on Greater and Lesser Jinchuan. The Hubet tribe entrenched there was no easy foe — they had seven shamans equivalent in strength to Great Swordmasters. He and Xinti had joined forces, lured and killed six of them, then seized the moment when the Hubet tribe was thrown into panic to deploy a massive army and launch a devastating assault, annihilating the Hubet tribe in one stroke and seizing Greater and Lesser Jinchuan.
As a Third-Rank Great Swordmaster, Xinti should have been able to roam freely across the Galentea Continent. As long as she didn't provoke those few old monsters, she could run into any other Third-Rank Great Swordmaster and still retreat unscathed. Her failure to return must mean she'd encountered some complication, or perhaps was simply having too much fun and had lost track of time. Women were just that willful. The Grand Duke shook his head and stopped worrying about Swordmaster Xinti. Of course, it never once crossed his mind that
The family's territories were peaceful as well. Christoph was holding things down in the Greater and Lesser Jinchuan region, currently building castles, establishing fortresses, and replanning the region's infrastructure. The two hundred thousand or so able-bodied men and women forcibly relocated from the former Melein Duchy the year before last had already settled there. This year the plan was to relocate another three hundred thousand subjects from Donghuang Province, making Greater and Lesser Jinchuan the Fisablen family's new and most solid stronghold.
As for the labor shortage in Donghuang Province, that would be compensated by relocating able-bodied men and women from Winston Province, along with the assimilated steppe barbarians. This would still ensure Donghuang Province maintained a population of around five hundred thousand. Sylvia was now overseeing the waterway construction and land reclamation efforts in Donghuang Province, hoping that within the next two years the family's territories could achieve self-sufficiency in grain production, eliminating the need to purchase large quantities of expensive food from the Snow Salt Trading Company. While the family's lands had no shortage of beef and mutton, it would be far too extravagant for all subjects to subsist on meat — filling their bellies with coarse grains was enough.
After all, cattle and sheep were the hard currency with which the Fisablen family exchanged for large quantities of outside goods. Although the family now controlled the Greater and Lesser Jinchuan region and enjoyed a steady income from gold mines, mining gold still required capital. Moreover, gold was easy to store and could be reserved for the family's most critical moments. Cattle and sheep were different — every year the family collected annual tribute from the submissive steppe barbarian tribes, and the number of cattle and sheep alone reached over a hundred thousand head. This was essentially free capital. Each year, the Fisablen family used these cattle and sheep to exchange for large batches of goods from the Snow Salt Trading Company, then used those goods to exchange for more cattle and sheep from the steppe barbarian tribes, cycling endlessly and reaping enormous profits.
But the moment he thought of Princess Sylvia, Grand Duke Fisablen's expression darkened. Little Sylvia had been so obedient as a child — how had she become so rebellious as she grew up? She had stubbornly fallen for that Norton family's young master. What was so great about that brat that he dared ignore a Grand Duke like himself? By all accounts, the brat was indeed the best marriage candidate for Sylvia, but unfortunately he didn't walk the same path as the Fisablen family. On the contrary, the Norton family was the Fisablen family's potential enemy. Remembering how that brat had refused his demands to his face, the Grand Duke felt as though he had been publicly slapped...
Rumors couldn't be trusted. Many nobles privately gossiped that the Norton family's new young master Lorist was a homebody with no ambition — sitting on powerful family strength while hiding in the Northland like a cowardly turtle, even forming a four-family alliance for self-preservation. Any other noble with such powerful family forces would have seized the Northland outright and set their sights on dominating the world. But Grand Duke Fisablen didn't see it that way. When he carefully analyzed every step Lorist had taken, he felt a chill of alarm in his heart.
Although Grand Duke Fisablen didn't know the saying "build high walls, store ample grain, delay declaring king," he still hadn't underestimated Lorist's preparations over the years. The Northland had become an iron plate — the Norton family, along with its three allied families, had accumulated tremendous strength, positioned where they could advance to attack or retreat to defend. When news arrived the year before last that the Northland Four-Family Alliance had deployed its forces to annihilate the Madras Duchy in one blow, the Grand Duke had been shocked but not truly surprised. The Northland Four-Family Alliance genuinely had the strength to destroy a kingdom.
Now the Norton family was practically ready to turn against the Fisablen family. After completing the last batch of military equipment trades at the end of last year, only the most superficial and hypocritical courtesy remained between them. That Count Kemais of the Snow Salt Trading Company had written to him at year's end, offering various excuses and apologies — all with a single purpose: to raise all product prices this year by two- to threefold. Clearly, they had learned that the Fisablen family had seized Greater and Lesser Jinchuan and come into money, and now they were treating him as a fat mark to be bled dry.
What truly unsettled Grand Duke Fisablen was precisely this. The Northland Four-Family Alliance knew full well that the Grand Duke had joined forces with the four central duchies to destroy the Melein Duchy and open a trade route to the central territories. So why did the Snow Salt Trading Company still have the audacity to demand such drastic price increases? Were they not afraid the Fisablen family would simply turn to the four central duchies for orders? Rock salt from the central duchies was hardly inferior to Snow Salt...
What did this mean? Clearly, the four great Northland families were likely preparing to extend their claws toward the Iblia Kingdom. Perhaps the destruction of the Madras Duchy had given the Northland Four-Family Alliance such confidence that they no longer took the Fisablen family seriously. Everyone knew that the Iblia Kingdom depended on the Fisablen family — any move against the Iblia Kingdom was a declaration of war against Grand Duke Fisablen.
What the Grand Duke regretted now was that he had moved too slowly against the Iblia nobles last year, wasting precious time. Fortunately, two of the four great Northland families had completed territory swaps last year, and the Grand Duke estimated they would only settle down this year — any action would come next year at the earliest. Perhaps he should send an envoy to probe the situation sooner, even if it cost an additional two million in funds — just as insurance for this year's peace. That was what Grand Duke Fisablen thought.
He hoped to complete his arrangements for Winston Province this year according to plan, so that next year he would have the confidence to maneuver against the Northland Four-Family Alliance in Winston Province. Time was pressing — this year he had to complete castle and fortress construction in three locations, train the defense garrison corps, and relocate most of Winston Province's residents. A thousand threads to weave, and time waited for no one!
At this point, the two palace maids on the bed — whom the Grand Duke had exhausted into a deep sleep the night before — finally woke up. Seeing Grand Duke Fisablen standing by the window in his night robe, sighing deeply, they hastily rose and brought hot water. Blushing with the modesty of women freshly touched by a man's favor, they helped wipe down his body, letting the Grand Duke have his full fill of their company in the process. They were about to give the still-vigorous Grand Duke Fisablen a morning treat, but he waved them off. He picked up his sword and headed out — time for morning training.
When Lorist was galloping toward the Rose Palace, Grand Duke Fisablen had just finished his morning training, bathed, and changed. He was in his study enjoying a lavish breakfast while reviewing documents and handling matters of kingdom administration. When the first alarm horn sounded, the Grand Duke merely furrowed his brow, thinking it was likely those several thousand soldiers gathered at the main drill grounds causing trouble during training.
Those thousands had been selected from the private soldiers left behind by former southern province nobles and the garrison troops of traditional aristocratic territories he had conquered. All had awakened
No matter — he would simply lead his personal guard over and execute a batch. Once those veteran soldiers saw enough blood and grew truly afraid, they would naturally fall in line. After that, they wouldn't dare disobey a single order. Grand Duke Fisablen had always ruled his troops with an iron fist; otherwise, how would those wild and violent steppe barbarian cavalrymen have obeyed his commands? It was simple — a carrot in one hand, a club in the other. Obey, and there were rewards. Disobey, and there was only one answer: death!
But when the alarm bells throughout the royal castle began ringing continuously, Grand Duke Fisablen's expression finally changed. This wasn't a mutiny — the enemy was inside. Who could it be?
Even as the Grand Duke dispatched scouts to investigate and began summoning the royal palace guards, arranging defenses and preparing to lead forces out of the palace, there came a tremendous crash. The Rose Palace's two great doors were kicked open, and a somewhat familiar voice rang out with brazen arrogance: "Grand Duke Fisablen! An honored guest has arrived — come out and welcome him at once!"
"Who dares be so insolent!" Grand Duke Fisablen roared in fury. He strode out of the hall to find Lorist standing between the two toppled doors, brandishing his sword in triumph. A flash of blade light and a loyal palace guard sprayed blood before collapsing to the ground in his death throes. Already, thirty or forty bodies lay scattered across the surrounding area...
"All of you, fall back..." The Grand Duke's heart bled. These personal guards were the elite of the Fisablen family's armed forces. After hosting the knights' tournament the year before last, the Grand Duke had learned from Lorist's approach and selected two thousand soldiers who had awakened Combat Force from his family forces to form his personal guard battalion. He would keep these guards at his side for two or three years, cultivate them, then deploy them back into the family's forces, each one serving as a centurion. This not only increased the family forces' loyalty and sense of honor, but more importantly, enhanced their combat effectiveness, making his command more responsive — like moving his own arm.
"Heh heh, Your Grace — Norton Lorist comes to pay his respects!" Lorist didn't bother chasing after the retreating minor fry. Instead, he composedly greeted Grand Duke Fisablen.
The Grand Duke stared back, his eyes filled with wariness and vigilance. If he had his sword in hand, killing a Gold Third-Star knight in a single move would not be difficult — after all, he was a Third-Rank Great Swordmaster. But unarmed, the Grand Duke was certain he couldn't dispatch an opponent as cleanly and decisively as Lorist had...
"You — how did you get here?" Grand Duke Fisablen assumed a defensive posture while secretly making several hand signals behind his back with his left hand.
"Ha ha, Your Grace — of course I came with my family's forces! The Iblia Kingdom no longer even has a king, so naturally it should cease to exist. The Northland Four-Family Alliance is here for exactly that purpose. Come, come, Your Grace — let's sit down and discuss how to handle this..." But the way Lorist held his sword, this was clearly not a discussion.
"You — keep dreaming! I will never allow the Iblia Kingdom to fall!" Grand Duke Fisablen's hair bristled with fury.
"Oh?" Lorist smiled mockingly. "That's not for you to decide — it's for me. Old man, your First Border Patrol Cavalry Corps is finished. Wiped out to the last man — not a single escapee. How else do you think we