Chapter 228 – Wind sharpshooter (1)

“Count Randner’s forces lost?”

The parchment from Oberbeck’s hand slid away, but he quickly grabbed and held onto it like a snake. He raised his head, revealing his face that was full of shock.

Princess Gryphine was listening at the side without making a move.

The outcome of the huge battle in the southern borders was not leaked immediately and it took several days before the information spread.

Count Randner’s huge army was defeated soundly, and it caused the lords of the surrounding lands to be at a loss for words.

The damage to the coalition army was not as large as one would have thought; the majority of the soldiers was incited to escape as the Highlanders turned tail and fled. The army from the Grey Bear region was completely unhurt.

A few thousand private soldiers were lost, but the true reason why everyone was talking behind the scenes was due to the deaths of Lord Palas, Kruss, and Weld.

Numerous nobles, two region lords, and one retainer who served directly under Count Randner. This meant that the northern Trentheim’s powers were gone. Even if Count Randner wanted to attack again, he would not be able to gather an army to subjugate Firburh.

A few nobles speculated he would lead the army himself, only to be shot down by dissenting thoughts. Which high-ranking noble did not have enemies? Count Randner had to deal with them all the time, and it was precisely at this moment that he had to stay in his territory to prepare for any changes. Everyone was already thinking that he was now a tiger without fangs, and even his own retainers were starting to worm about behind his back.

Even though Count Randner hated Brendel to the point of gnashing his teeth, he had to first deal with his own affairs before he could make his move freely. By that time, the youth was certain that he would not fear that old man.

At the end of January and the start of February, when the earth was about to be unfrozen, there was a discussion about this huge civil war in all of Aouine.

The only exception was the Trentheim region, and those who participated in the war rarely talked about it.

Firburh paid a heavy price as well, especially the mercenaries who were tasked to delay Count Randner’s army. Their numbers were reduced by more than half. These were veteran soldiers who experienced the November War and did not submit to the tragic and deadly battles, but they now slumbered beside River Gris. Their graves were now in a pine forest, silent like an unread poem.

But the shadows of war were quickly washed away as the ice melted. Verdant sprouts sprang out from the farms, a winter had passed, and the continent had once again regained its vitality and energy. The city’s citizens could not believe they won.

“A victory was attained just like that? I didn’t even get to participate on the battlefield.”

Carglise sat on a stool without showing any signs of a noble’s etiquette, supporting his head with both hands, looking at the dwarf Odum and the royal grandmaster blacksmith Bosley constantly moving around a bunch of broken metal pieces— At least to him, these were broken metal pieces—

To be exact, they were broken weapons.

Because the training mission for the first batch of officers of the White Lion Army was temporarily over, Carglise was so idle that he almost replaced Scarlett as Brendel’s guard by following the youth the entire day.

The biggest gain from the war was the enormous amount of armor and weapons that the enemies abandoned, and equipment was something that Firburh greatly lacked. Bosley estimated that they could arm an army of three thousand to four thousand men after returning the spoils to the forge again.

[Ah. The Dimension Hole still has a mixed bunch of things from the ruins.]

Brendel suddenly remembered and dumped everything in the workshop, nearly filling the place to the brim.

Bosley naturally became outraged and threw the youth and Carglise out.

But after a moment, the royal blacksmith half-ran and half-jumped like a kid, eyes seemingly burning with fire and demanded an answer while grabbing hold of Brendel’s arms:

“My Lord, where did you get these weapons? Did you rob the Empire’s warehouse?”

The youth shrugged off the blacksmith’s hands in distaste: “Do you think the Empire’s warehouse is akin to a public toilet? Entering and leaving when you want to? Even if it’s a public toilet, going in and out requires payment.”

“That’s because you’re ‘the’ lord right? Everyone out there is saying that you’re capable of doing anything that you put your mind to. Listen, everyone else in the other regions is calling you ‘Brendel the creator of miracles’,” the old man was grinning from ear to ear, “although I must say I have never heard of the Empire having public toilets before.”

[Who’s the bastard who gave me such a disgusting nickname? It sounds like a protagonist of a third-class story in the market. I thought I would get the nickname ‘Wolf Shepherd’ or something.]

The nickname to one’s popularity was quite important, like Oberbeck the Wolf Lord, or Crosshand Buga, it was easy to know the personality or related strength of said person. But if you call someone like ‘dead maggot’ or ‘rotten toenail’ or similar bullshit like ‘Brendel the creator of miracles’…… The youth wanted to find a pillar and commit suicide.

But while he found it disgusting, Carglise had sparkling eyes as he listened on and could not help but grumble:

“Darn it, if I came together with my Lord I might have a gotten nickname too. Well, if my lord is called ‘Brendel, the creator of miracles’, I obviously would not be able to compare to him, so I should get the nickname of ‘Carglise the liegeman to Brendel, the creator of miracles’.”

Brendel stumbled and nearly kneeled on the ground. He snapped his head to look at this particular noble’s scion with a despising look.

[Second son of Lord Macsen. I worry for the future of this kingdom, what the hell is this aesthetic?]

On account as future adjutant, and the sake of his White Lion Army, he decided to correct his mindset: “This is just a small battle and there are plenty of opportunities in the future. The only thing I hope is that you don’t grumble you’re tired about it.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Our enemies are not just our own kingdom, there is also Madara. Do you know why this bunch of undead did not bring out their main force?”

“They didn’t?” Carglise’s eyes popped open. Bosley did not understand anything about Madara because he was imprisoned, but Carglise had more or less about the force that invaded Aouine.

“Madara invaded Aouine because they are on the brink of a civil war as well. A new emperor had just ascended to the throne and the authority of the court is shaking because of the endless quarreling. In order to shift their attention of the dissenting voices, the emperor ordered an expansion. This war is actually a legal plundering, and the only nobles who immediately reacted to it are the ones who got affected by this invasion.”

Brendel explained with a solemn face, paused for a moment before continuing:

“This expansion is a revolution for their outer appearance— The Black Lord Incirsta who led the invasion at the frontlines was supported by the Tarkas family because of his talent. He chose to lead the attack in order to seek the opportunity to walk on the front stage. Before that, he was just someone young who just inherited a small piece of land. And in this war, there are many young undead talents as well. Incirsta isn’t the only one.”

Brendel was conveying Madara’s threat for the first time to his subordinates, though he knew he was probably not heeding his own warning.

But the two men listened to the youth exhaled coldly: “Then how strong is the true Madara force?”

“The main strength of Madara’s main army is comprised of Black Knights, Dark Cross Warriors, vampires, high-level necromancers. Especially the Black Knights and the Dark Cross Warriors. They make up the bulk of the army, but each of them is a Silver-ranker. Let’s call them a ‘Tier 3 soldier type’; the higher the number, the stronger they are. Stronger battle units include Bone Dragons, Banshees, and Blood Lords. When Aouine was first built, perhaps the Wind Elves might extend their help to us, or if it’s the earliest White Lion Guards and Steel Knights under King Erik might have enough strength to do battle, but if it’s right now……”

[All this talk about Madara, but they aren’t even the strongest force in this world right now. The Kirrlutz Empire, the Wind Elves, or the Wizard Craftsmen from Galbu. All of them are stronger than this newborn dark empire. The truly undisputed force of a territory definitely belongs to Galbu. They have their Gargoyles and Crystal Dragons and would have defeated everything if they went to war, at least for the foreseeable future.]

Brendel mused to himself, only to be interrupted by Bosley’s sigh:

“It’s a pity that the method to train the Steel Knights has been long lost. Even the doctrine to train White Lion Infantry has missing pieces. The White Lion Infantry today is much weaker compared to the past.”

The youth nodded. He knew this point fully. The White Lion Infantry was the army that followed King Erik to conquer the Wilderness, but the current batch of White Lion Infantry could be compared to the Count Randner’s formal soldiers.

Perhaps one could say that it was fated since the current kingdom deviated from King Erik’s beliefs and they were being punished for it.

The Sentinels from the Wind Elves, an army that could be traced back all the way to the Silver Elves, made a promise to Aouine to come to the kingdom’s aid if it needed help. However, the descendants of King Erik and his men twisted this sacred alliance and caused it to be broken, and it even incurred Marsha’s wrath.

[Cause and effect…… There’s a complicated relationship between Aouine, the Silver Elves, and the Wind Elves. With their aid, the kingdom barely managed to survive till this day. Still, Madara clearly saw how weak Aouine was and the latter slowly began to move towards death after the invasion. All history, though.]

Brendel patted the two men’s shoulders: “Don’t worry, we can still work on it slowly. The kingdom isn’t beyond salvation. Hmm, the doctrine to the White Lion Infantry was mostly lost because of the internal royal war between the Corvado and Seifer dynasties. It’s said that one of the Seifers in the past took a third of the doctrine and hid it in a graveyard in Maanstro. Perhaps if we have the time we can search for it.”

Bosley thought Brendel was trying to console him, but the latter truly meant it. During that civil war, the head of the Seifer dynasty split the doctrine into three parts, then handed them to his two sons and one daughter. One portion was retrieved, with the other hidden in one of Maanstro’s graveyard. The final part’s location was unfortunately unknown even in the game.

The complete White Lion Infantry was estimated to be Tier 4 amongst the gamers, and Brendel estimated gathering two portions would at least get these soldiers to Tier 3. The training method for the Steel Knights could be solved by alternative means as well.

Bosley tapped the youth for a response as the latter seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

“Ah. Grandmaster Bosley, right. I think the Crimson Flagbearers’ armor is pretty good. Can you try to think of a way to improve it?”

“Improvement?” The old did not understand: “Even though the defense of this armor is very high, the armor is not suited for heavy infantry. There is magic woven into the armor, enhancing its defense against arrows, but it isn’t suited to guard against repeated strikes from a melee weapon. It does have the same idea as the White Lion Infantry’s armor, but the latter uses excessive materials to ward off both melee and ranged weapons.”

“No, what I mean is for you to redesign it and allow archers to wear them.”

“Archers?” Bosley stared at the youth with wide eyes. He had never heard of such excessive extravagance, even having archers to wear magic armor.

It was not that the archers were not valued, but the position of archers are already placed in the backline, and it was a little too wasteful to put magic armor on them: “Isn’t it too much of an expenditure?”

“Not at all, what if these are the ones to wear the armor?” Brendel got the old man to turn around, pointed at the young, tall and lithe female Tree Elves wearing longbows on their back and shopping in the ‘human world’.

“That’s……” Bosley could not find the words to refute him.

Anyone knew that the Elven archers were sharpshooters that could not be replaced. But Bosley could hardly think of a sharpshooter wearing armor. In theory, archers sought for agility.

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