Empire Year 520, spring.
Drizzling rain fell from the sky, chilling to the bone with a piercing spring cold.
A gaunt, solemn old man was riding a horse, leaving Worry-Free Palace alone. Although the weariness in his eyes could hardly be concealed, the old man still kept his back ramrod straight.
He was about to embark on a journey to the mountain frontier, fully charged with the responsibility of quelling the rebellion, purging the traitors, and restoring Imperial authority.
There, he would face his former attendant, apprentice, and vassal—Ned of Tormes.
Only when choking on thick smoke did people start to ponder: what was that initial tiny spark?
An insult? A slap in the face? A private vendetta?
Those no longer mattered; what mattered was that the flames of rebellion had now become an unstoppable blaze.
Not only was the entirety of the Duchy of Forthland ablaze, but autonomous cities within the Duchy of Vineta were also stirring with unrest.
