Chapter 18: On the Journey

“Neither Dodor, Naville, nor the Radiant Church wishes to see the Lant Empire rise again, even if His Majesty Neowest has already stepped into the realm of legends. Therefore, the imperial family could only end the war after annexing the three eastern provinces of the Gambis Kingdom under the pretext of punishing rebellion. In reality, the imperial family of Lant, having been weak for many years, lacked the strength to continue the war.”

Edwin truly lived up to his reputation as a master scholar from the Silverwhite Tower. Over the next few days of travel, he displayed the erudition befitting a master scholar, his profound explanations of natural species, geography, history, and politics opening Victor’s eyes to the world in unexpected ways.

This made Victor secretly grateful that this journey was accompanied by such a gluttonous yet knowledgeable elder.

“The emperor of Lant, in the name of punishing rebellion, hanged the two dukes who had defected to our Gambis Kingdom and reclaimed their fiefs. But what excuse could he possibly have to annex the lands of our York family?” Nicole, who was brewing pine nut tea for everyone in the carriage, could not help but speak up indignantly upon hearing Master Edwin recount the war that had forced her to leave her homeland years ago.

Looking at the solemn-faced Knight Bruce sitting nearby, Victor found the scene somewhat amusing.

Though Victor was also a noble of the Gambis Kingdom, as a transmigrant, he felt no real sense of belonging to this realm. Observing as an outsider, he had a more objective understanding of the war and the kingdom’s circumstances.

The Gambis Kingdom, Dodor Kingdom, and Naville Kingdom were all, in name, vassals of the Lant Empire. But over a millennium of history, the empire had long since declined, and its central authority had gradually lost control over the regional nobility.

Though the imperial family never officially granted the title of prince to any lord, those lords who had already shaken off imperial control gradually merged and devoured one another under the drive of ambition, eventually forming three powerful factions. In the end, under the mediation of the Radiant Church, the weakened imperial family was forced to crown these three mighty lords as kings.

Thus, the once-mighty Lant Empire formally split, and the imperial family was left clinging to its scant remaining territory.

Everyone believed that these three powerful monarchs would, through brutal wars of annexation, forge a new empire to replace Lant.

But then came the Sassanids.

This powerful, barbaric northern empire finally defeated the nomads who barred its southward advance and opened its greedy, bloody jaws toward the nominal Lant Empire.

Under the Sassanid threat, the brewing War of Three Kings swiftly became an Alliance of Three Kings. Dodor, the strongest militarily, would face the Sassanids head-on; Naville, with its poor and barren lands, built many fortresses in its northern mountains—difficult to attack or defend. Whenever the Sassanids attacked Dodor, Naville’s armies would sally forth from their strongholds to raid Sassanid territory. The prosperous Gambis Kingdom in the south provided long-term military support and logistical supplies to both Dodor and Naville.

A new balance had formed, and within this equilibrium, the Lant imperial family managed to survive.

No one had foreseen that three centuries later, the long-declined House of Lant would produce an emperor—His Majesty Neowest—who stepped into the legendary realm.

A Golden Knight is already the pinnacle among knights, but what kind of power does one possess who breaks through that peak and enters the legendary domain? And how could an emperor endowed with such might tolerate the decline of his house?

Coincidentally, two hereditary counts on imperial land defected to Gambis twenty years prior. The Gambis royal family made them dukes and absorbed their territories into the three eastern provinces.

Neowest, citing the punishment of traitors, launched a bold invasion, sparking the subsequent war between Gambis and the empire—resulting in Gambis losing the three eastern provinces, including York, to the empire.

Yet Victor believed the imperial family’s deeper motive was to slay King Ryan of Gambis.

Years of war with the Sassanids had left Dodor ever weaker, while Naville’s poor and meager lands could never amount to much. Only the fertile Gambis Kingdom, after many years of development, had gradually become the strongest of the three. Its expansion into the vast Centaur Hills in the east further unsettled the other kingdoms.

Neowest likely seized upon this situation to launch his attack on Gambis. As expected, Dodor and Naville stood by at first; Dodor even stationed troops on Gambis’s borders, forcing Marshal Goron, the Golden Knight, to confront them with Gambis’s main force. Only after King Ryan faced Neowest in single combat—where the emperor displayed power far surpassing a Golden Knight and slew his opponent—did Dodor and Naville finally intervene.

The result: the imperial family seized the three eastern provinces, but the mighty emperor was wounded, and Gambis lost not only territory but also a strong and capable king, plunging the rising kingdom into a succession crisis.

Everyone was satisfied with this outcome—except Gambis.

Victor even suspected that Neowest had deliberately allowed himself to be wounded in battle; otherwise, Dodor and Naville would never have let the imperial family annex York’s lands so easily.

Sylvia, the true power behind the York family, decisively abandoned the bountiful lands her family had managed for centuries, leading her entire house west to avoid annihilation.

This left Victor deeply impressed and secretly wary of the beautiful lady’s wisdom and resolve.

As the mood in the carriage grew heavy, Nelson rode forward and knocked on the carriage wall.

“My lord, we’ve entered Baron Eskley’s domain. Our caravan should reach the Eskley family’s castle before nightfall. A servant of the baron just arrived with an invitation—Lord Eskley will host a banquet at his castle in your honor, and invites Master Edwin, Sir Bruce, and all the apprentice knights as well.” Nelson handed Victor a finely crafted gold-foil invitation through the window.

Victor glanced over the invitation, then handed it across to the scholar sitting opposite him.

“The dishes at the Eskleys’ banquet are as rough-and-ready as their family—nothing but roast meats. I still prefer the boiled chicken with sauce you invented for lunch today, Victor,” Edwin said, taking the invitation and pursing his lips.

The Eskleys were an old noble family of the kingdom, famed for their valor and solidarity. However, they never involved themselves in royal factional struggles; no political power tried to win them over, knowing that whoever ascended the throne, the Eskleys would serve loyally.

It was rumored that, for all their courage, the Eskleys lacked cunning, which kept them out of political intrigues. In the capital's noble circles, some even joked that the Eskleys had nothing but muscle in their heads—a jest one would be wise not to utter within an Eskley’s hearing, lest they be taught firsthand what muscle truly is.

But to Victor, this was exactly the kind of politically neutral family he preferred to deal with.

“Master, as a matter of noble etiquette, we should pay our respects to this hospitable lord. It will also give our party a good chance to rest and resupply near his castle,” Victor said with a smile.

“Nelson, pass on the news: tell everyone to push a little harder. Tonight, we’ll sleep behind Eskley’s walls and rest there for a day,” Victor instructed.

Soon after Nelson left, cheers erupted among the caravan.

After nearly ten days of camping in the open, everyone was exhausted. The promise of rest filled the group with excitement, lightening their weary steps.

Upon arrival at the castle, Victor saw Baron Eskley in full armor.

The baron was not tall but extremely robust, his thick beard blending into his brown hair, making him look like a powerful brown bear. The heavy armor he wore seemed as light as leather, clearly marking him as a formidable knight.

In fact, like Victor, Baron Eskley was the second son of his family. As a knight, he had not sought refuge with another great noble, but instead remained with his house according to Eskley tradition, serving his elder brother faithfully for more than a decade. Because of the family’s limited lands, they could not even grant him an estate, yet he never complained.

Only when the Centaur Hills were opened for settlement did his brother spend a large sum to purchase for him a barony and lands. Such unity was indeed rare in the cold, self-interested world of noble families.

“Ha! Baron Victor, welcome to my castle!” Baron Eskley laughed heartily as he clapped Victor on the shoulder.

“My lord Eskley, thank you for your generous hospitality.” The blow, which looked heavy, landed without any real force—deepening Victor’s understanding of a knight’s strength.

“Master, it is a great honor to meet you,” said the baron, giving Edwin a knight’s salute; the Eskleys held scholars in special esteem.

“Hey, Bruce, old friend, we meet again! Tonight you must drink a few more cups with me.” Eskley hammered Bruce’s chest with such force that the dust on Bruce’s leather armor rose, but the unmoving Bruce could only shake his head with a wry smile.

The baron then introduced his family—two strapping young men, his sons, both awakened to the knight’s bloodline and serving as apprentice knights.

When it came to the ladies, the elegant baroness herself offered her fair hand to Victor, who could only perform the hand-kiss to this beautiful lady with almond-shaped eyes.

The banquet was held as scheduled, and as Edwin had said, the table was laden with all manner of roasted meats.

Eskley’s two sons each gripped a roasted lamb shank, tearing into the meat with gusto, all the while casting ingratiating smiles at Nicole across the table and glaring at each other. Clearly, these two adorable apprentice knights were trying to impress Miss Nicole with the Eskley art of courtship—seeing who could eat more. Unfortunately, they failed to notice the darkening expression on Nicole’s face.

At the table, when Victor requested to purchase supplies, Baron Eskley appeared troubled.

“Victor, I can provide plenty of firewood and weapons, but I don’t have enough grain to meet your needs. However, these supplies I can gift you, if you’ll send some men to help me sweep out the gnoll bandits to the south of my domain,” the baron said.

As it turned out, a band of gnoll brigands had entrenched themselves in the southern part of Eskley’s lands, often raiding his people. Recently, they even overran one of his manors. As a powerful knight, Eskley could easily crush these ugly beasts, but he lacked enough men; every time he drove them off, they soon regrouped, causing him great vexation.

“Of course. I’ll send my guards to assist you in wiping out those vile gnolls. But I would like to join the operation myself,” Victor replied, eager for the chance, as he had never seen gnolls before.

Eskley hesitated, intending to refuse politely—after all, Victor was not a powerful knight.

But when he saw his wife gazing at Victor with her large, bright eyes, he shuddered involuntarily, and the words of refusal on his lips turned into two simple ones:

“Very well.”