Vol 2 Chapter 94: Winter Moves South

The Fourth Continent, Gale Season, Spring – Wind Antelope Festival.

Mounted herders galloped across the grasslands, curved bows in hand, constantly chasing and driving the antelopes on the plains, then drawing their bows and firing arrows, hitting one after another of the running prey.

The Wind Antelope Festival was a harvest festival, not only because the gales brought change and abundant rain, but also because antelopes were plentiful this season, making hunting more fruitful.

Riding up to a dead antelope, a herder threw it onto the accompanying wagon to be taken away.

About a week later, these antelopes would transform into smoked and dried meat, stripped hides, and cleaned horn materials.

The herders, with a bountiful harvest, hummed songs as they walked through the grassy fields under the setting sun, feeling the strong wind blowing against their faces, strolling towards the white tent encampment.

Returning home, the wife brought hot water for her husband to bathe, then began talking about recent life.

“Next month, merchant caravans from the north will come to take away those hides and horns to sell.”

“Are the horns valuable?” the wife asked curiously, remembering that horns used to be hard to sell.

“They weren’t valuable before, but they are now. Apparently, the caravans transport them to a place far, far away, where there’s demand.”

“Oh, where exactly is that? So far away, the shipping costs must be high.”

“Exactly, shipping has always been expensive. For example, a large piece of mutton that sells for 10 copper coins here costs 100 copper coins when transported to a big city,” he said with a sigh.

“Those horns, I hear, are made into spellcasting materials. Only those mages, who don’t care about money, can afford such high shipping costs.”

“Mages? I’ve only heard of them, never seen one. Are they powerful?”

“Of course they are. I hear they can summon beasts out of thin air, conjure piercing spears, destructive lightning. Even the knight lords are somewhat afraid of them.”

“It’s mainly because mages have too many tricks. You never know what cards they’re hiding. If you’re not careful and get hit by one, it’s over,” the herder shook his head.

“Knight lords are still the most straightforward. A spear is a spear, a sword is a sword. No fancy, flashy stuff.”

“Alright, I’m going to lie down for a bit. Remember to add more hot water to my basin so I can soak a little longer.”

…

The arrival of the Gale Season did not reduce the war in the southern part of the continent. Instead, the refreshing climate spurred many ambitious forces to launch expeditions everywhere, seizing territory.

North of the Kingdom of Ante, among the wind-swept mountain ranges, a cavalry force wound its way along mountain paths. They all wore silver armor, and on their straight lances, deep blue swallow-tailed flags fluttered.

Walking through the howling cold wind, they remained silent. Frost and wind could not touch their faces, blocked by their cold, hard helmets, revealing only pairs of gray-blue eyes.

This cavalry was disciplined and strict, and the accompanying knights had a steady, imposing aura, like unmelting icebergs. They traversed the vast mountains in the cold wind, gradually reaching the northern mountainous border of the Kingdom of Ante, then halted, standing tall on their horses, overlooking the still-unaware castles of the kingdom.

Soon, a flag with a deep blue background was raised high, emblazoned with a snow-white mountain peak and the never-ceasing winter gale.

“Winter Knight Corps, charge.” The voice was not loud, but rather a calm, low tone.

After the order was given, the force charged down the mountain slope. At first, they were just a few small black dots, then they spread into a sweeping avalanche.

As the model once imitated by the country of Regas and the holy land in the hearts of many knights, the ‘Winter Knight Corps’ had always been a legend spread across the continent.

This time, they finally emerged from the frozen mountains, beginning their exemplary charge. Their lances stood like a forest, then lowered straight down, stretching into a straight line on the steep slope, carrying the might of a blizzard as they entered the battlefield.

In just a few weeks, numerous towns in the northern part of the Kingdom of Ante were captured. Forces that engaged the Winter Knight Corps were routed one after another. That knight corps was like a horn in the cold wind; wherever they went, no one was not terrified and trembling in fear.

Just a few months ago, the Ante nobles, still immersed in the celebratory feast of conquering Regas, had to immediately recall their southern expedition armies to defend the homeland, marching day and night without rest. During this process, nobles within the Kingdom of Ante were defeated and removed one by one, with many territories beginning to fall, taken over by the armies of the Winter Kingdom.

In this state, the Kingdom of Ante had no choice but to seek aid from their ally, the Eagle-Scorpion Khanate.

Although Eagle-Scorpion took schadenfreude in Ante’s plight, after sending observers to assess the military might of the Winter Kingdom, they also felt the peril of a neighbor’s fall and dispatched troops, beginning operations within the Kingdom of Ante to jointly resist the Winter assault.

At this time, the recently conquered country of Regas once again became hollow and vulnerable.

The old nobles who had survived, surrendered, and submitted in the previous great war began devising ways to regroup their strength and recapture the lands and castles seized by the Kingdom of Ante.

Just as these old nobles were agonizing over whose name to unite under and how to muster troops, a joyous piece of news emerged.

The missing Prince Jabers was not dead. He, along with Princess Mursa, was still alive in this world. In Valley City in the southern part of Regas, they had begun secretly summoning resistance forces.

“Hahahahaha!” Wild, hearty laughter spread through the banquet hall. Jabers, dressed in a splendid crimson and gold military uniform, stood before the banquet table, his face showing smug satisfaction.

“I told you these guys wouldn’t last. See, isn’t the opportunity here?” Before him stood five old nobles of Regas, though their current attire was indeed much shabbier compared to the past.

“Of course, Lord Jabers foresaw everything, predicting early on that these wild dogs of Ante would retreat in defeat sooner or later,” a pot-bellied noble flattered vigorously.

“These scoundrels stole so many resources and wealth from our Regas. Truly hateful.”

“As long as Lord Jabers issues the call to arms, the nobles still remaining within Regas will surely respond one after another.”

“At that time, rebuilding the country of Regas will be a breeze,” another noble beside him painted this beautiful vision. Many present began to fantasize, hoping to gain glory and territory in this process of ‘re-founding the nation.’

If they could control even larger territories than before, this revival might usher in a better era than the previously stagnant, rigid Regas.

The clinking of wine glasses rose all around. Everyone, faces flushed, discussed their respective ideas. One inspiring idea after another popped up, as if in an instant, they could defeat the remaining Ante Kingdom forces stationed here and reclaim sovereignty.

Objectively speaking, their thinking wasn’t wrong. But having experienced the previous surrender and suppression, the strength these people could muster now was absolutely not formidable.

“So…” On the second floor of the banquet hall, several figures in dark crimson robes silently watched the scene below.

“Now it’s our ‘Hundred-Eyes Sect’s’ turn.” Beneath the hoods, the visible chins, cast in the chandelier’s light and shadow, revealed dark and sinister smiles.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep