Chapter 395 - One Battle
"Isn't this going too far?"
The boatman spoke.
"It's just a whim."
The boatman replied.
"It was madness. What was so pretty about it? Did it bring entertainment? It was just a momentary thing."
Again, the boatman spoke.
"Wasn't that the 'thing' to come?"
The boatman asked again.
"Humans are animals of potential and possibility."
"That's why they are arrogant."
"That would apply to him too."
"We don't know, do we? Just as it brought entertainment, the things to come could also change."
"If you get trapped there, that's where it ends."
It was a question-and-answer session with no one to participate in but oneself.
***
Krang held the first strategic meeting at the royal palace's training grounds. A small podium was set up, and Royal Guards surrounded it.
Among them, the noble faction gathered first.
When people gather, words are bound to be exchanged. One of those with keen ears, who had heard various rumors, started.
"I heard fifty lycanthropes appeared near Border Guard. Count Molsan is said to be a magician. Who knows what else might appear in his domain?"
"Heh."
"It's dangerous. They barely stopped them, barely."
"Not only lycanthropes, but there are also rumors that the monster uprising that shook the capital before was his doing."
"Is that all? They say it was also the count's maneuver behind the incident in the palace led by Viscount Mernes."
Krang didn't control the information. In fact, he spread it even more. So everyone knew the full details of the incidents.
"They even said we need to fight without calling any knights back from outside."
"Does that make sense? One of the knights from the Red Cloak Order should be here by now."
"...Is it going to be a hopeless fight?"
One of the young nobles who had inherited a title crossed the line with his words. His anxiety made him speak without thinking.
Even though Krang's side remained, they weren't all of one mind. When fear takes over, trust is bound to waver.
This was the situation they were in.
A mixture of lesser nobles, merchants from the capital, guild masters, and others had gathered.
"How insolent."
"Do you not trust your own lord?"
Two of the nobles who had been watching attentively reprimanded the one who spoke first, and he opened his mouth again.
"I don't think blaming and complaining will solve anything. You need to assess the situation, read the winds, and make decisions accordingly. If you blindly trust, you might as well go to the temple and pray."
"What are you trying to say, Baron Zeph?"
The man, referred to as Baron Zeph, answered immediately.
"We must face the situation head-on and do what must be done."
"Is this betrayal?"
The noble who spoke was ready to take any action right then and there.
Since they were in a training ground for the meeting, everyone had weapons on them.
Some among the non-noble group frowned. Is this really alright? With the civil war likely to drag on, is it wise to side with these kinds of people?
"Do you want to spill blood, Baron Rudin?"
Their use of titles was stiff and formal. Although not enemies, they had clashed before over a mine between their lands.
The tension between them was palpable.
Despite their petty quarrel, the sense of unease spread further among them.
Nobles who were closer to Count Molsan's territory felt the trend more strongly.
If a monster horde attacks the colony, what will happen to their domains?
Even losing just one city would be a disaster.
Even if it's a civil war, should they stake everything they have?
And if they lose? No, even if they win, will there be anything left?
If there's a territorial war afterward, which side will the king support?
The stronger side? Or the one who proves helpful at the time?
This feeling was shared not only by the nobles but also by guild masters and artisans.
Everyone present had political considerations in mind. Nevertheless, they were people with courage and will.
After all, these were the ones who had turned their backs on Count Molsan.
Of course, some among them could never side with the count.
For example, some had lost entire businesses to him because he monopolized trade routes in the name of his ventures.
Others had lost half of their territories due to outrageous protection fees after monsters were warded off by Molsan's forces.
Whenever Molsan's name was mentioned, their teeth clenched in anger.
"Humans turning into monsters? No, he must have embraced the monster horde from the start. How can such a man be called the same as us?"
Monsters are enemies of humanity. One of the artisans' guild masters made this fundamental point.
The gathered group numbered over twenty.
The Marquis of Baisar, who could be considered a high noble, and the Marquis of Okto had yet to arrive.
Technically, both were still by Krang's side.
In the small building behind the training grounds, it smelled faintly of sweat, a barracks-like atmosphere.
"Not everyone shares the same heart."
"But we can't call them enemies."
The two marquises alternately spoke.
There were people who had joined Krang's side, but they were not all-in.
Others, with their own thoughts and agendas, had gathered as well.
Still, they were needed.
It was hard to even gauge how much power Count Molsan was hiding.
So, even if ghouls were on Krang's side, they had to turn a blind eye for now.
In fact, that's what Count Molsan had been doing.
"A magician, you say?"
The Marquis of Baisar's brow furrowed.
Count Molsan had aligned himself with beings whose nature was uncertain—whether human or monster was unknown.
How this could be, no one knew, nor did it matter at the moment.
Now was the time to fight and win.
"You need to think long-term."
The Marquis of Okto added.
His power came from the land. Otherwise, he wouldn't have earned the name 'Okto' as a title.
As the war dragged on, the one who would suffer the most would be the Marquis of Okto.
Would the farms hold up after all the battles?
Yet, he still insisted that the war should not end quickly. To win, they needed to wear down Molsan's forces.
He likely calculated that by stalling, the knights would eventually intervene.
"You refused the knights' involvement? That was a mistake."
No, he even said it outright.
The point was, they couldn't afford to be picky about the means to win. It was sound advice.
After hearing all these words, Krang only gave a faint smile. The weather was fine, and the sunlight was warm. Summer was approaching.
The sound of insects was especially loud in this season.
"The weather is nice," Krang said.
When Marcus, who had arrived late, saw the two marquises' expressions stiffen, he asked.
"Did you have an argument?"
Marcus was a loyal man. If the marquises joined only after seeing the conditions or could not tolerate the situation, Marcus had placed everything on Krang.
"You've lost your dignity, Marcus."
"When did you start paying attention to my dignity?"
Marcus, responding to the Count's words, stood beside his lord.
"You'll finish it with just one, right?"
It was a casual question.
"Of course. I have a small liver, so doing it twice is beyond me."
Krang answered.
"Oh, so it's because your liver is small that it'll be just one? Such a tease for those with small livers."
Marcus made a jest.
"What do you mean by finishing it with just one?"
It was the Marquis of Baisar's question. He was an old politician who was never flustered. However, this statement couldn't be ignored.
It meant staking everything on one battle.
"If we delay with a civil war, what will remain in this land?"
Krang asked with a smile.
"If the civil war ends without victory, we'll lose everything we hold," he said, stating the obvious.
"If we win, that's all that matters."
"Do you think winning will be easy with this bunch?"
"Are you underestimating the Count's strength?"
"Neither. I'll do everything I can, and beyond that, I'll pray for the favor of the Goddess of Luck."
"Then we must ensure that doesn't happen."
Krang shook his head inwardly. It wasn't that he didn't understand the two before him.
He viewed the fight as one where losing meant losing everything. Krang , however, looked further.
Winning isn't enough to end it.
Count Molsan probably wanted to end everything with one battle as well.
It was only natural for them to think so.
If they wanted the throne, and to have that throne remain called the king's chair, they would have to do it that way.
After the battle, they couldn't afford to become a beast devoured by wolves.
The southern region of Lihinstetten, the eastern land of Aspen.
The enemies were still numerous. The threat of the magic marsh was terrifying.
So, they had to end it all with the power they had now, with just one decisive strike.
On a larger scale.
"The threat from the magic marsh increases every year, and we're losing territory. I can't just watch that happen."
Krang cut straight to the point, discussing the future. The two Marquis understood immediately.
After the civil war. Krang was already planning ahead.
Both Marquis fell silent.
"My heart is too narrow to understand your grand ambition," Marcus jokingly commented.
It was an old saying.
Although it sounded almost mocking, it implied that if it was hard to understand Krang's intention, they should trust him and follow.
Both of the Marquis, though understanding, did not let it pass.
"That tongue will land you in trouble someday."
"You've said that many times, but it never changes."
The two Marquis criticized Marcus in a refined tone, and Marcus followed behind his lord with a smile.
Krang stepped out.
It was time to meet the gathered nobles, guild masters, and merchants.
He needed their power. There was no surplus of justification or troops.
Above all, to fight properly, they had to be united.
It would be even better if they all shared the same goal, but if that was difficult, they could be tied together through a common point.
If all else failed? Set conditions. It was a new thought.
Is this an unfavorable battle?
Krang quickly rejected the self-deprecating thought.
When had he ever only fought favorable battles?
Disadvantage did not necessarily mean defeat.
There had been a man beside him who turned the impossible into the possible.
Even half of what Enkrid had shown would be good enough.
Half of that luck he often spoke of would be enough.
The first step was here.
On the stage, Krang stood, basking in the sunlight, and looked at everyone.
The murmuring crowd fell silent as he gazed at them.
"Did you sleep well?"
That was his first line.
A few words were exchanged. The nobles expressed their astonishment, thoughts, and concerns.
After hearing it all, Krang quietly raised his hand and made a short gesture, which made their mouths close.
"I believe I will win, don't you?"
He was claiming victory? From where?
"Baron Zephiel, I hear your mounted infantry are exceptionally swift, unmatched in the forests?"
Zephiel commanded a ranger force trained in the forest, having raised them by feeding and training them in the wild.
He himself would wake from sleep to go hunting without hesitation.
"...Yes."
"And Baron Rudin, I hear you are a splendid spearmaster."
"I am lacking in skill."
"For someone who once dreamed of joining a knight order, was I mistaken?"
"It was a childhood dream."
His skill was said to be beyond squire level. Krang smiled faintly.
"I believe one battle is all we need. Just one."
His words spread across the vast training field, and yet, they lingered in the air.
It felt as if his words were carved into their minds.
All they saw was his relaxed arms and slight smile.
He didn't appear as a military king, nor as a great strategist.
But somehow, he seemed trustworthy. If he was deceiving them, he would surely be a legendary con artist.
But Krang was no con artist. He was the future king and the head of this group.
"How will you fight?"
"We'll meet in the Nauril Plains, as planned."
His calm demeanor, like a friend coming to visit at the city's edge, exuded confidence.
That calmness and composure instilled belief.
They naturally believed he would win.
There were those who had trusted and followed him from the start.
"I have fifty well-trained spearmen under my command. They're few, but please make use of them!"
One noble spoke up.
"Though my skills are modest, I will lead from the front."
"I have stockpiled grain. I'll send wheat and beans."
Others joined in, offering their support.
If they couldn't ease the anxiety, they would cover it with trust.
"Trust me. We will win."
Krang said it simply.
Without a grand speech, he managed to unite everyone with a common purpose.
Just one battle. That was enough.
"What if Count Molsan has a change of heart?"
The Marquis of Okto muttered.
He was a genius in domestic affairs, but war was not his specialty.
Krang, now off the stage, answered the question.
"Count Molsan is an ambitious man, and his intellect is formidable. He will do just that."
***
A month passed swiftly.
"Will no knights come?"
Count Molsan, while fixing his armor, responded to his adjutant's question.
"It's unfortunate."
"Yes."
"I feel the same."
It was a force built in anticipation of the intervention of knights.
But to fight without them?
Arrogance. That pretentious bastard.
Clang.
Strapping on armor plated with steel, Molsan grasped the magic sword that symbolized his title.
Having finished his preparations, the Count declared.
"I will end the royal family in the Nauril Plains."
The sound of a horn echoed through the plains.
It was a signal: come and fight.
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