The fall of Mount Bobilichi marked the successful completion of the campaign to destroy the Iberia Kingdom.
Perhaps the Hunter Cavalry Corps would still clash endlessly with the Fisablen family's Border Patrol Cavalry Corps in Muye Province. Perhaps the Fisablen family would still band together with the Grassland Barbarian cavalry to raid the Southern Province border. Perhaps Grand Duke Fisablen would still scheme to launch a sneak attack on Piedro City. But the outcome was already decided. No matter how the Fisablen family struggled from now on, they would never recover. Even a few victories would mean nothing more than trivial setbacks for the Norton family. As long as they controlled the flow of supplies and goods, in a few decades the Fisablen family might well become just another Grassland Barbarian tribe on the northeastern great steppe…
Now it all depended on whether the old fox Grand Duke Fisablen had the sense to know when he was beaten… Lorist thought with undisguised smugness. Beside him, Schwarde was shivering from the cold, pulling his cloak tighter. "Your Highness, let's head back. There's nothing to see in this endless expanse of snow, and the wind is terrible…"
The rear camp had originally been converted from a bandit stronghold. Quartermaster Volio had ordered soldiers to build him a lavish three-story stone house, but now this warm mansion had become Lorist's war prize, while its original owner, Volio, was crammed into a stinking cattle pen with the lowly soldiers he once despised. Now they were all equals—prisoners of the Norton family. Sure enough, on the very first night, the poor quartermaster was beaten black and blue in the dark, a truly pitiful sight…
Schwarde tossed a handful of pine charcoal into the fireplace, stoking the flames higher. Then he poured some Meikisi into a copper kettle, added water, and hung it over the fire to brew. In the bitter cold of winter, cradling a scalding cup of Meikisi and sipping it slowly was the kind of deep, heartwarming contentment that came from the very soul.
Ael stamped his boots twice at the doorway, scraped the snow and mud off his leather boots on the carpet, and strode upstairs. "Your Highness, that Sairya has been brought in."
The young Sairya was a far cry from his former spirited self. His face pale and ashen, he was led before Lorist, silent and unresponsive. Not a word did he utter. Everything that had happened over the past few days had been nothing short of a nightmare for him. First, the Norton family's Bedrock Corps had appeared on the rear mountain passage of Mount Bobilichi as if descending from the heavens, braving a fierce blizzard. With lightning speed, they had seized the completely unprepared rear camp. Then they had besieged the encampment of the 3rd Border Patrol Cavalry Corps' four battalions on the front mountain. With devastating long-range crossbow fire, they had sealed off every camp, making it impossible for anyone to rush out and mount a counterattack…
After two days of hunger, Bodefenge had forced the 3rd Border Patrol Cavalry Corps' commander, Gallini Belopte, to order his soldiers to lay down their arms and surrender to the Bedrock Corps, threatening to burn their barracks to the ground. Then everyone had witnessed Commander Belopte publicly slit his own throat after the surrender, crying out before his death that he had betrayed Grand Duke Fisablen's trust, failed to hold Mount Bobilichi, and failed to fulfill the Grand Duke's charge—that he would atone with his life…
No one had been able to intervene—it had all happened far too quickly. Young Sairya had watched as his commander—the man he called "Uncle"—Belopte's throat spurted blood as he collapsed face-first into the snow, staining a vast expanse of pristine white. He had been completely numb. Just like that, they had lost. There had been no heroic charges, no grand battlefield confrontations, no fierce attacks or defenses—nothing. Mount Bobilichi had simply fallen, and the 3rd Border Patrol Cavalry Corps had surrendered to the enemy. It was a catastrophic defeat—an utter rout. The commander had taken responsibility for this humiliating surrender by publicly slitting his throat in atonement. And what about himself? What was he supposed to do?
For the past two days, Sairya had existed as a prisoner like a walking corpse, curled up in a corner, caring for nothing, neither eating nor drinking—until today, when Ael had found him and brought him before Lorist.
"You're Sairya Fisablen?" Lorist asked, eyeing the young knight with curiosity.
Sairya seemed not to have heard a thing. Ael gave him a hard slap on the shoulder. "Hey, are you deaf? He's talking to you!"
Only then did Sairya snap back to reality. "Ah… what did you say?"
Lorist chuckled and asked again.
"Yes, I'm Sairya Fisablen. I'm of the Fisablen family. Whatever you want to do to me, go ahead—I'm not afraid…" Sairya suddenly grew agitated.
"No one intends to do anything to you, I assure you. Although the Fisablen family is my enemy, we still uphold the traditions of the nobility and follow the code of chivalry. You're our prisoner now—I've asked you here because I have a few questions…"
"I will never betray my family—don't even think about it!" Sairya's face was resolute.
"Haha…" Lorist burst into laughter and motioned for the barely suppressed chuckling Schwarde to pour Sairya a cup of Meikisi.
"No one is asking you to betray your family, and we have no interest in the Fisablen family. It's simple—you've already lost this war. The outcome is set, and there's nothing that can be done to change it."
"You launched a sneak attack. I don't accept this…"
"…then the Fisablen family is hardly worth mentioning…" Lorist said calmly.
"…" Sairya blushed, knowing he had misspoken. The reason Grand Duke Fisablen was hailed as the God of War of the Steppe was precisely because he frequently fought against superior forces with inferior numbers—using tactics like sneak attacks, ambushes, and surprise raids to repeatedly defeat the far more numerous Grassland Barbarian cavalry, ultimately expanding the territory of the former Krisen Empire and making the Fisablen family the largest and most powerful territorial nobility in the northeast.
"Have some Meikisi. Warm yourself up first," Lorist said gently. "I actually brought you here to fulfill the dying wish of your commander, Gallini Belopte, before he slit his throat."
"The commander?" Sairya asked, confused.
"Yes." Lorist nodded. "Before ordering you to lay down your arms and surrender, your commander made three requests. I agreed to two. I just didn't expect him to be so resolute. Once we seized the rear camp, he knew there was no chance of winning. That's why he ordered you to surrender—to save your lives…"
"He… he made requests to you?" Sairya asked in disbelief.
"He was a great knight—steadfast and decisive, shouldering the burden of failure entirely on himself. He was not a coward but a knight and officer of noble character, devoted to honor. I admire his courage in atoning with his death, and I regret that the Fisablen family has lost such a valiant knight." Lorist stood, his expression solemn.
On the Galentea Continent, suicide had always been considered an act of cowardice—the refuge of failures too weak to face their difficulties. Regardless of which god one worshipped, no temple would ever encourage or permit such behavior among its followers. For knights and warriors who followed the War God, suicide was considered dishonorable—something only cowards and weaklings would do. Just like the Golden Knight Chevani, who served under
"Thank you…" Sairya finally bowed his head, tears streaming down uncontrollably. He wept, sobbing openly. Praise from his enemy—from Lorist himself—had finally broken through his emotional defenses. No longer was he tormented and grieved by his uncle Belopte's death in atonement. Instead, he even felt a stirring of pride.
After weeping for quite some time, Sairya finally managed to compose himself. Schwarde sympathetically handed him a warm towel to wipe his face. After wiping his face, Sairya straightened up and gave Lorist a knight's salute. "Your Highness Norton, may I ask what three requests our commander made of you?"
"I would have told you even without asking. Please, sit down and have some Meikisi." Lorist gestured toward the sofa, indicating that Sairya should sit. "I hear you haven't eaten in two days. I'm concerned about your health. If you keep this up, you won't be able to carry out the task your commander entrusted to you."
"At the time, your commander made three requests. The first was that the news of the 3rd Border Patrol Cavalry Corps' surrender must be delivered to your Grand Duke. I agreed. He designated you as the messenger to deliver it. This is the letter he wrote to your Grand Duke. However, the heavy snow has blocked the roads, so he agreed to my proposal that you'd be allowed to leave as soon as the rainy season ends. But now that he has taken his own life in atonement, I respect his courage. So I've decided that when you return, his body will be escorted back as well. You may choose twelve soldiers as your escort. We'll provide mounts and all the military equipment you need. We've already prepared your commander's remains, and we'll also provide a carriage to ease your journey…"
Tears fell from Sairya's eyes once more.
"The second request was that your commander asked me to allow your Grand Duke to ransom the captured Fisablen family knights and relatives. I'll admit here that I was caught off guard—I fell right into your commander's trap. I thought he was referring to the family knights within your 3rd Border Patrol Cavalry Corps and the Fisablen relatives among them. But after I agreed, he clarified that this request included all captured members of every Border Patrol Cavalry Corps. I was furious, but as a noble and a knight, I will honor my word. As long as the Fisablen family provides a ransom befitting those prisoners' value, I agree to grant freedom to the captured knights and your family's relatives."
Hearing this, Sairya raised his head with a touch of pride, as though he was utterly delighted that Commander Belopte had managed to outwit Lorist.
Still just a child… Lorist smiled wryly. What was the point of keeping those Fisablen family knights? A knight could not betray his family—unless the family abandoned him first. Otherwise, no one would respect a traitor, and Lorist had no intention of recruiting such disloyal knights. No one would trust someone who had betrayed once not to do so again. Besides, the Fisablen family controlled the Great and Little Gold Rivers—exchanging these captured knights for a large quantity of gold would be quite the deal.
"Release the soldiers of the 3rd Border Patrol Cavalry Corps. Let them go home and reunite with their families."
Lorist looked at Sairya and said, "I brought you here precisely to tell you this. You can go back now and pick the twelve soldiers who will accompany you. You won't need to stay in the prisoner camp anymore—I've arranged separate quarters for you, and your meals will be the same as our family soldiers'. If you have any other requests, you may make them. I'll do my best to accommodate."
Sairya stood up. "I have just one request. I hope we don't have to wait until after the rainy season to set out. The heavy snows stop by February of next year. We could leave then."
Lorist studied the determination written across his face, then nodded. "So be it."
In most years, the snow stopped by February, but that was also when the ice and snow began to thaw, making the roads muddy and treacherous—both men and horses were prone to slipping and falling. But since Sairya insisted, there was no need for Lorist to play the villain and refuse. After all, he wouldn't be the one enduring the hardship.
After Sairya left, Bodefenge and Malek came calling. Lorist invited them to sit, then pointed to the map of the Southern Province hanging on the wall. "Mount Bobilichi has been reclaimed, and you already understand the Bedrock Corps' mission going forward—that is to hold the border between the Southern Province and the Eastern Frontier Province, defending against incursions from Fisablen family forces and Grassland Barbarian cavalry. This is a long-term assignment that could take several years. The Bedrock Corps is the Norton family's premier corps. No other unit besides yours is capable of shouldering this responsibility."
Bodefenge and Malek snapped to attention. "Rest assured, Your Highness. As long as the Bedrock Corps stands, not a single Fisablen soldier will cross our defensive line."
Lorist waved them back to their seats. "Now that Mount Bobilichi has been reclaimed, the Southern Province's border defense has a strategic anchor. Our family can recall the Flying Tiger Corps—there's no need to concentrate all our forces here. Likewise, the Kenmais family's heavy armor battalion and the Shahin family's two light cavalry and light infantry battalions can return as well. This border defense line will be entrusted to the Bedrock Corps. Of course, Count Phelim's Pegasus Corps will fully assist you, and in battle, they will follow your command and deployment."
"Additionally, I'll reinforce the Bedrock Corps with two Thunderbolt Catapult Battalions to deal with the enemy's log-reinforced shield carts. You can follow the example of the 23rd Guard Battalion's defense of Piedro City—use oil jars and crossbow bolts to burn those shield carts, or simply smash them with catapult fire. I won't say more. The matter is entirely in your hands."
"In a few days, I'll set off back to Northland. There's still much to attend to there. Once you take over the Southern Province border defense, you must strictly follow the established plans to deploy and construct all defensive installations. Not the slightest oversight—understood?"
Bodefenge and Malek stood to attention once more. "Your Highness, we won't let you down."
…(To be continued.)