CHAPTER 280

Why must Marcus follow the call of the Capital?

"Those damn noble families should be protecting me and shielding me at times like this, but instead, they threw me out to take all the blame. Those political bastards."

These were Marcus's words.

For a brief moment, he wondered if he was cursing himself, but now was not the time to bring it up.

"The Central Government might see the fact that some of the Border Guard are raising warhorses and training archers over here as a sign of rebellion. Why concentrate power in the North, especially when you're a noble of one of the prominent families?"

"A prominent family?"

"My family, of course."

There was no need to ask which family.

The point was this:

Marcus intended to reorganize the North, focusing on the Border Guard.

But to the Central Government, it seemed like, 'What are you trying to do by gathering power over there?'

"To take good care of the North."

So, he answered.

"It doesn't look like it. Just come up and talk about it. And aren't you originally from a family that guards the Capital? Come up. We'll make you a central official."

"What if I refuse?"

"Huh? So, you really are planning a rebellion, aren't you? Are you going to refuse this?"

"I'm not rebelling."

"Then come to the Capital. Let's talk about it. Stop bothering the neighboring territories. You said you're just defending, right? Then they won't mess with you either."

"If I withdraw, they'll attack, knowing I'm gone. So, I'll finish this task first and then come."

"You're definitely a rebel. This guy, you're a traitor."

"No, I'm not."

"Then come."

Stripped of flowery language, titles, and trivial details, the conversation went something like this.

Marcus resisted, but it was in vain.

He was ordered to return to the Capital.

"This won't be the end. There must be some rogue elements behind this."

These were the words of Marcus, a born politician.

But why did he go out of his way to say this?

Before Encrid could voice his doubts, Marcus spoke first.

He straightened up from the pillar he had been leaning on and stood tall.

He stood straight, like a soldier at attention, and squared his shoulders.

For a moment, it seemed like Marcus was sucking in all the air around him.

He composed himself in this way.

"Help Graham protect the territory."

It wasn't an order. It was a request. That's how it sounded to Encrid's ears.

"Yes."

So he answered, and Marcus, with a somewhat drained expression, spoke again.

"...All this worry was pointless."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind."

Marcus turned away. Battalion Commander Marcus had a few concerns as he made his way here.

Would his friend Encrid stay in the territory until the end? Would it be better to abandon this place and call him to the Capital? Or would he just go his own way?

'Damn those Capital bureaucrats.'

Marcus suddenly felt like cursing the rotten nobles and officials.

He cursed them countless times in the past, but now he wanted to put a hole in each of their foreheads.

He even considered hiring an assassin so famous they'd be mentioned in history books.

Maybe the one nicknamed 'Red Dot' for leaving a red mark on the forehead of those he killed.

Or was he called 'Red Spot'? Whatever.

Anyway, he wanted to cut off and eliminate the rotten parts.

'Fine. I'm going.'

He had no intention of running to the Capital just because they called for him.

He was going to hunt down each of the ones who played with the Black Blade Bandits.

But to wield that kind of power, this place had to remain intact. The enemy was targeting the Border Guard.

So what could Marcus do?

'What else is there to do?'

Just as usual.

Leave the fighting to those who excel at it.

Marcus himself should go and do what he does best.

Before departing, Marcus decided that he needed to write a few more letters.

After all, he needed to prepare for everything he could before leaving.

Among all the preparations, his thoughts even reached Encrid, who would be the biggest variable.

'Will he stay?'

True to his nature as a politician, he came half out of doubt, half to persuade, but the answer came too easily.

He answered willingly. There was no falsehood, and while there wasn't a strong sense of duty, Encrid would protect this place.

This is the kind of man he is.

Whatever the fire burning within his chest is, it burns steadily and doesn't easily reveal itself.

If he truly wanted to be a Knight, he should have already gone to the capital and fought his way into the Knightly order.

Despite having the 'Will', why does he remain here?

A sudden curiosity arose.

'What kind of Knight do you wish to become?'

Next time, next time they meet, he wanted to ask.

Somehow, his heart felt more at ease. The frustration eased a bit, like unraveling a tangled thread.

Though he didn't know the reason, nor could he foresee everything that would happen.

'I won't be caught off guard so easily.'

It was strange. No matter how hard Graham, the Company Commander of the 1st Company, tried, his efforts didn't feel as reassuring as a single word from Encrid.

'Is it because of the difference in skill?'

Now, he knew. Encrid had become a fearsome swordsman. He was on the path to Knighthood, having realized the 'Will'.

But was it because of that?

No, that wasn't it. Marcus instinctively knew.

When he returned to his office, he saw that Graham, the 1st Company Commander, had been waiting for him.

"I'm sorry. A proper appointment ceremony won't be possible, and more importantly, I don't know what the Battalion Commander of the Green Pearl garrison is thinking. If that guy has turned too, things might get diffiCult."

"Don't worry, sir. I won't lose to the likes of the Black Blade."

Graham was also a remarkable soldier and man.

'So why doesn't it feel as reassuring as a simple 'yes'?'

Marcus shook his head inwardly and patted Graham on the shoulder.

The situation was getting dire, and yet he had to leave. It was a truly different feeling.

He resolved once more.

He would behead anyone involved in this matter.

* * *

"A heretic Cultist has risen in the south of Martai!"

This was the word spreading among the merchants and travelers passing through the territory.

They said a bishop of the heretic Cult had appeared in the south, leading a horde of monsters.

There were widespread rumors that a wolf bishop, a fairly well-known figure among the heretics, had led an army out.

Of course, it wasn't just rumors.

[As winter approaches, I hereby proclaim this place a sanctuary for those who starve and shiver in the cold.]

These words, spoken by the bishop, were written on papers that were spread everywhere.

It even reached the Border Guard.

"Oh? Damn it, this is bad."

Some of the soldiers clicked their tongues when they saw it.

The bishop had declared Martai and the surrounding Border Guard area as a sanctuary of the heretic Cult.

It was essentially a warning: if you resist, you'll all be killed, so you'd better pack up and leave.

This was a significant problem.

After Marcus left, the 1st Company Commander, who became the Lord and Battalion Commander, broke into a cold sweat in the face of the approaching tide of problems.

Why have the heretics suddenly appeared? The situation was dire. The limitations of their forces were clear, and the Black Blade Bandits and the heretic Cult were attacking from different directions.

"Has Marcus fled in fear?"

Viscount Tarnin escalated the situation with his wild outburst. He subtly advanced his troops as well.

The scent of battle was gradually spreading.

"I'll have to send someone to Count Molsen to request reinforcements."

Graham immediately began to take action.

A member of a powerful noble family with significant influence in the region happened to be in the territory.

Wouldn't they help?

He subtly mentioned that the noble had two sons in the area as well.

A response came.

"The Cultists are also rising in the Count's territory, and it's winter, so too many monsters are appearing. Handle it yourself."

Bang!

The 1st Company Commander slammed his fist against the wall.

The wall, made of solid bricks, didn't break.

A heavy pain spread from his fingertips to his nerves, but did that matter right now?

"Damn it! Your territory is next in line after ours!"

The Count Molsen's land couldn't be indifferent to such matters.

The pig Tarnin was leading the way, but the ones hiding behind him were the Black Blade Bandits.

No, at this point, they weren't even hiding.

Several swordsmen, clearly known to be part of the bandits, had revealed themselves.

It was a declaration of intent.

While the Cultists were advancing from below, keeping Martai in check, the two groups seemed to have made a non-aggression pact, not infringing on each other's territory.

It looked like they were playing a rigged game.

If it looked that way, it probably was.

So, would these two groups simply conquer the Border Guard and be done with it?

Would they just clap their hands, say, 'We're done here', and disband?

No chance. If that happened, they would only become more rampant.

Graham sent out ravens and pigeons to the Capital.

No answer came back.

Instead, other news reached him.

"Battalion Commander."

He had apologized for having to pass on his position during such a moment.

There was no formal appointment ceremony, but Graham had intended to solidify his position as Battalion Commander with this incident. However...

He recalled Marcus's parting words.

"If it gets too bad, do what you can and get out of there."

He wondered if now was that time.

The news he received pushed the new Battalion Commander into despair. It was something that darkened Graham's eyes with even more gloom.

"Aspen has made a move."

There was a man who had originally been the Commander of the reserve forces.

He had stationed his army on the Green Pearl Plain, training warhorses, opening new farmlands, and establishing villages.

Fortification was a priority, so he began by building barracks and wooden fortifications. From the village to the estate, beyond the garrison, he was fully integrating the land into Naurillia's territory.

And now, a messenger from the Green Pearl had arrived.

The news was that Aspen had mobilized his forces, breaking their agreement and crossing the border.

It was an invasion.

Aspen was not the type to sit quietly, sucking his thumb and watching after losing once.

But why now of all times?

This was a problem that required support from the Central Government. The Border Guard alone could never handle it.

Support would surely come. Aspen had made a move, after all.

But...

'Of course, we have to survive until then for it to mean anything.'

As soon as he was newly appointed as Battalion Commander, he wanted to run away.

The schemes of the Black Blade Bandits had become a sharp blade, tearing into the Border Guard.

They had driven out Marcus, summoned the Cultists, and even spurred Aspen into action.

The sky was dark. Thick clouds covered it, blocking the sunlight even during the day.

Dark clouds hung over the territory as well.

* * *

"So what are you going to do about it?"

The Black Blade Officer chuckled to himself, savoring the satisfaction as he downed a gulp of strong liquor.

Dare to mess with us?

They had utilized their connections and poured gold into this effort.

And this was the result.

Viscount Tarnin and the Black Blade army.

To the south of Martai, the Cultist army.

And to the east, beyond the Green Pearl Plains where the Border Guard was stationed, Aspen's uprising.

So, what are you going to do now?

* * *

With news of trouble brewing from all directions, the merchants gradually stopped coming to the territory.

"They say war is coming."

"I heard the Cultists are planning an invasion."

"No, no, that's not it. They say the army stationed at Green Pearl has turned on them. They're upset about not being appointed as the leader of the Border Guard."

"They say the Central Government has given up on this place because it's too much of a headache..."

"And that's not all. I heard even Count Molsen has turned his back on them."

When will the Border Guard fall?

Encrid dismissed the rumors without much concern.

But not everyone could be so indifferent.

Graham, the newly appointed Battalion Commander and leader of the territory, felt like he was suffocating.

It felt as if someone had pressed a blade to his throat.

Calling a military meeting to stop Viscount Tarnin left him uneasy about their rear.

He sent a messenger to the Green Pearl Battalion, but the reply only made things worse.

"The enemy has many troops. If you don't want to see your soldiers slaughtered, you need to send reinforcements."

Reinforcements, they say.

Here, we're so short-handed that I'm tempted to start drafting a ghoul army.

His scraggly beard and bloodshot eyes reflected his inner turmoil.

"Damn it, Marcus."

In the end, Graham cursed Marcus.

What's there to be happy about in becoming the Battalion Commander and Lord when things are like this?

While the leader of the territory was teetering on the edge of panic, someone in Encrid's company was reaching a similar state.

"Commander, commander, isn't it time to run away?"

What was he talking about?

"Did you swear an oath of loyalty to the Queen? No, right? I don't think we can fend off the Cultists, the Black Blade, and Aspen all at once."

This was out of character.

Encrid took a moment to observe Big Eyes.

He was shaking his leg, trying to bite his nails but then spat out instead, blinking constantly.

Even now, he blinked several times while looking at Encrid, and the tremor in his pupils was evident.

This isn't normal.

Encrid didn't think he knew the full past of every soldier or fully understood their personalities.

But he did know a few things.

He naturally came to know that Rem hates the cold, and Ragna is a lazy person with a poor sense of direction.

He also noticed that Jaxon, who has many secrets, sometimes shows a chilling side, though it's unclear who it's directed at.

And he knew about Krais's habits as well.

This wide-eyed friend didn't have an easy life in the past.

Indeed, who among those present here has led a peaceful life?

Someone like that wouldn't have ended up here in the first place.

This unit wasn't called a bunch of troublemakers for nothing.

Krais was one of those troublemakers.

"This is the worst."

Krais muttered, listing off the grim scenarios that were about to unfold.

"Even if we manage to hold off the Black Blade's forces by relying on the walls, what about the Cultists coming up from below? That so-called Wolf Bishop is quite notorious. I've been gathering some information."

He spoke with a pale face, devoid of even a bitter smile.

"He's the kind of guy who drives around hundreds of wolf beasts. The fact that a wanted man like him has come out means something. Whether it's Molsen or whoever, it means the Kingdom has abandoned this place. I don't know what they've gained in exchange for abandoning us, but they've probably gotten everything they wanted. So, this land has been forsaken by the Queen. Look at this: Aspen has openly lined up his troops, and yet not a single reinforcement is coming. Even a part of the Knight order should have been sent here, but they haven't come. What does that tell you? It's all politics. Maybe they've made a deal to give up Green Pearl in exchange for something? Or perhaps they've struck some kind of agreement with the Cultists? At the very least, the Black Blade is…"

Krais's words dragged on. Encrid understood some of it and let the rest go unheard.

He looked around.

He could see the eyes watching him. There was something he realized from this.

They would do whatever he decided.

If he suggested they abandon the territory and leave, they would all follow.

Rem, Ragna, Audin, Jaxon, Dunbachel, Teresa, and finally Krais, who was consumed with anxiety.

The panther that had quietly slipped in would be the same.

Eight of them and himself.

Nine in total—a force that would normally be considered negligible.

But now?

The last battle was an easy victory because Marcus had kept this Company's strength hidden.

That was Krais's analysis.

Encrid's judgment was the same.

So, what would happen if they withdrew now?

What do you think would happen? It would be a complete disaster.