Chapter 282: Eastern Expedition
Inside the Fog Fortress, a few survivors of the Tide of Fishmen had been taken in.
One Viscount, two Barons, and one Lord. No knights, no commoners.
The four of them looked rather miserable. This battle had basically cost them everything they possessed.
“At least you are still alive.” Richard consoled them with these words.
However, their expressions darkened even further.
Without the warriors in their hands, how could they dare return?
They were not worried about the commoners in their territories rebelling, since there were still family members left at home. But with their allied army entirely destroyed while they themselves survived, no matter the reason behind it, they would have to bear responsibility.
Thinking about this, they felt that it might have been better to die.
Richard also noticed that his words were somewhat inappropriate. He coughed dryly twice, then immediately conveyed Marl’s message to them: “My army is nearly assembled. This time I will march together with Earl Gregor. We have more than fifty knights and six thousand warriors. So, do you wish to continue campaigning against the Fishmen?”
Their faces revealed hesitation.
The coalition they had raised had far outnumbered the armies of these two Earls, and they had even possessed four Holy Relics, yet they had been annihilated the instant they encountered the Fishmen.
Although news from the south had yet to arrive, it was likely that the nobles of the Ackerman Principality had met with the same fate.
Thus, they exchanged glances. Finally, the Viscount said, “Perhaps it would be better if we returned to rebuild our armies first, so we could be of help to you.”
Richard regretfully replied, “Very well. You will always be welcome to join me.”
That night, however, the Viscount knocked on Richard’s door. After he left, the other three also came one after another.
After sending off the last Lord, Richard ran out excitedly and found Marl, who was still handling affairs.
“Respected Bishop Marl, they truly acted just as you said. They refused me during the day, yet came to me at night, saying they were willing to follow my army.” Richard said with excitement.
Marl’s gaze was like dead water as he looked at the overjoyed Richard. Calmly, he said, “Because they do not wish to lose all their power upon returning, they must seize some merit. Did you tell them that they could receive more rewards of merit, provided they agreed to have their future territories clustered around yours, and become part of the Adrian Diocese?”
Richard said flatteringly, “Of course. I would never dare omit a single word spoken by Respected Bishop Marl.”
Marl replied, “Very good. Tomorrow, you must invite them to a meal together, then show them your army. Finally, give each of them a copy of the Holy Scriptures, and have them memorize it in full.”
Richard nodded repeatedly. “Understood, I will. But… what meaning does this serve?”
Marl said, “They are nobles, not fools. This is to make them realize that there is more behind this matter than what appears. The rest, they will think through themselves. If you tell them directly, there will be no reverence. But once they figure it out on their own, they will know fear, they will know dread.”
Richard suddenly understood. “So, the Church does not intend to kill them anymore?”
Marl said, “This Greenwood is too vast, and the Church’s nurturing of men is too slow. We cannot restore order here in a short time. Thus, we need others to help manage these lands. They have already paid the price for their sins, so they have been granted the Lord’s recognition. As long as they do not commit sins again, they may serve well as Lords. But if they do sin, then they will recall what they have endured during this time. Do you understand?”
Richard nodded again and again. “I understand, I understand.”
At last, Marl could not hold back a sigh. He said, “Can you not learn from Earl Gregor? In just a few days, he has orderly summoned all the warriors of his territory, while you see nothing but your knights.”
Richard’s face changed drastically. He said firmly, “Impossible. I will never learn from that fool. To handle matters personally when someone else could do them—that is nothing but stupidity!”
After speaking, he realized he had let something slip.
Yet Marl did not grow angry. His face returned to calm, and he said, “Get out.”
Richard dared not speak another word, turning immediately to leave.
…
“If only you could learn from Knight Richard, and bring all the knights in your territory under your command, regardless of whether they were personally enfeoffed by you.” Jeremiah spoke heavily.
“But they are the knights of my subordinate nobles. If I do so, those Lords will be displeased.” Earl Gregor looked troubled.
Jeremiah said, “How would they dare be displeased? They are scattered, while you are the strongest. You can easily justify gathering the knights under one command, saying only thus can you unleash their full strength.”
“You have already received the Church’s permission to establish a knightly title. Once this war ends, you must have that title acknowledged as soon as possible, and swiftly form true military might. This war is the best chance for those knights to know you and submit to you.”
“Moreover, in this war, some Lords will inevitably fall to the Fishmen. If their knights are by their side, their loyalty will surely drive them to die with their masters. And then, would that not reduce your strength?”
“Earl Richard has already gathered over thirty knights, and he himself is a powerful Dragon-Eagle Knight. Do you think those knights are more loyal to their lords, or to Earl Richard?”
Only then did Gregor realize the truth. These knights could indeed become his own.
He said, “Then I will go find them now and summon them to my banner.”
Jeremiah closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “They have already been gathered together. They now have ample reason to refuse you. At this point, you must not go. Instead, during the charge, you only need to be brave at the front. Do not worry, I am watching over you. You will not die.”
Gregor laughed heartily. “Oh, Bishop Jeremiah, though I fear death, I am still a knight. When I charge as a knight, I fear nothing!”
Jeremiah’s face eased slightly, a trace of comfort in his heart.
“Ah, yes—Priest Jeremiah, how about making my knightly oath ‘fearless of all things’?” Gregor suddenly thought his own words sounded quite heroic.
Jeremiah again closed his eyes in pain.
…
The next day, Richard, as Marl had instructed, dined with the nobles and announced that all four of them would follow him into battle to earn merit.
The nobles smiled warmly, showing no trace of the awkwardness from yesterday when they had refused him together, only to yield one by one in secret.
In good spirits, after breakfast Richard proudly led them to see his knights.
Unified full plate, identical swords and lances, and under the glow of the Morning Star, the reflected light stabbed at their eyes like arrows.
When Richard rode his warhorse and led the knights in a training charge, the momentum far surpassed that of the allied knights. The pounding hooves struck their hearts, turning their faces red.
They thought that earning merit under Earl Richard’s army should not be a problem.
At the same time, they sighed in admiration at Earl Richard’s formidable strength.
That evening, Richard gave each of them a copy of the Holy Scriptures, urging them to study it.
Although doubtful at first, unease slowly grew within them. That unease grew further when, upon Richard’s invitation, they went to view Earl Gregor’s army.
They discovered that both Earls had already fully assembled their forces, yet seemed to be waiting for something.
Then suddenly, they remembered that strange coronation ceremony, and the indistinct Pope’s words from that day.
Time passed. When the army of the York Territory appeared behind the Fog Fortress, their suspicions were confirmed.
The two Earls were waiting for the Church’s signal. And they themselves, as the eager nobles who had moved first, had walked into sin under the guidance of ‘Greed’.
They gazed upon the army of the York Territory under the Morning Star. The neat formations of armored soldiers shone with blazing light, their unified steps shaking the earth. Behind the towering cross at the head of the army, it seemed a pair of calm eyes were watching them.
Their legs turned weak, their heads dizzy, their arms trembling and knocking against their armor with faint clangs.
Beside them, Richard suddenly spoke, “What a mighty army, their morale soaring. So these are the warriors who fought under Lord Pegira—what terrifying battle spirit.”
Then, raising his voice, he declared, “But my Adrian is no less!”
Drawing his sword high, he shouted, “Oath Knights, prepare for battle!”
Below the walls, the knights shouted in unison, “War! War! War!”
The cry resounded in the ears of the four panic-stricken nobles, echoing with the advancing steps of the York army.
Richard laughed aloud, then leapt onto Crulud’s back.
The Dragon-Eagle spread its wings, soaring skyward with an eagle’s cry tinged with a faint roar.
At that moment, the four nobles saw yet another army appear in the distance, its banners mostly bearing the crest of Earl Gregor’s family. Yet what caught their eyes most was a massive cross within the army—something they had not seen before.
Before they could think further, Richard’s forces gathered from every border fortress, and another great cross was lifted from within the Fog Fortress itself.
This close, they could clearly see the cross’s construction.
It was simple, made only of oak.
In front of it, a man in a red robe stood out sharply.
He glanced back at them indifferently, then turned away, no longer paying them any mind.
They suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. But the Dragon-Eagle’s cry overhead made them look up.
The beast was staring toward a distant direction.
Following its gaze, they saw, far away over Lake Salvador, a gigantic column of water soaring into the heavens. Within it, even from here, they could make out a black, whale-like creature.
That colossal lifeform rode the water column, crashing down upon the former Principality of Corlay, now occupied by the Fishmen.
They could even feel the trembling beneath their feet, as if the water column’s impact shook the land itself.
Their eyes grew dry, their throats stuck as though glued shut. They could make no sound, nor dared to.
They watched helplessly as the York army crossed the Adrian border in perfect formation. The gleam of their armor seemed to blind their eyes.
It felt as though countless eyes were staring at them. But upon closer look, the soldiers paid them no heed, only following their general forward.
Then, the two Earls’ armies also marched in step behind the York army, their twin crosses standing tall and obvious.
The Fog Fortress emptied in an instant. Silence pressed down, terrifying in its weight.
The Viscount, as though clearing a blockage in his throat, said, “Should we not follow Earl Richard’s army?”
A Baron replied, “Yes, we all agreed to.”
Yet, despite their words, none of them could move their feet.
Suddenly, from behind, small scattered armies appeared—mostly under a hundred men, only a few larger.
Looking at their banners, the four suddenly realized that these were the nobles who had refused their coalition earlier, claiming they lacked troops. Now they remembered: these were the nobles whose lands bordered the York Territory.
From the Land of Anathema, and from those whose territories had been forcibly divided and controlled by the York Senate.
At that moment, they understood everything.
They quickly mounted their horses, rushing out of the fortress, spurring toward Richard’s army.