Chapter 102: The Only Choice

Aturs, Year of Severus, 15, I.R., the 33rd day of Fall, Arenfall

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Lord Prestonheim's shoulders drooped as he escorted the Prince and his ward to their own tent which his knights promptly prepped earlier. The sun was already peeping in between the hill's bosoms as it painted the dark gloomy sky a tinged of crimson.

After escorting the prince to their tent, he went back to his, only to find his friend Syleon still sitting on the bed besides his own. The silver-haired Commander knew that his friend still had a few words to say after that meeting. In fact, Commander Crovar grumbled and objected to almost all the ideas the Prince dished out. He only stopped objecting after some time when he knew the prince was having none of his traditional views. Lord Prestonheim saw in his friend's eyes, a look of both frustration and amusement.

"August, I know the morning has come but I still have a lot of things in my mind." The towering Commander spoke. "Doesn't the idea make you worry? Why do we have to put our trust on that freed slave? Why would the prince break that tradition to make way for him? I mean…" The old Commander sighed.

Lord Prestonheim knew his friend all to well. They were brothers-at-arms when they were younger. They were part of the Crimson order and were known notoriously for their wild exploits of brawls and wars. He also knew how Syleon loves his knighthood and had always been a staunch defender of its traditions. The Prince's ideas were out of the box, too radical for Commander Crovar and now as Lord Prestonheim anticipated, his friend would rant about it.

"I think because there were no other choice." Lord Prestonheim sighed as he sat down the other bed.

"No other choice? We can…give them weapons! The adamantite kind! What more was he asking?" Commander Crovar clenched his fist in anger.

"As I told you Syleon, those creatures that we have to kill were something else." Lord Prestonheim massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to fight off the drowsiness that he had. "Those creatures that our elders used to warn us about…I saw them…they were terrible."

Commander Crovar laid down on his bed, "I don't know, August. It's possible you might've been poisoned by that black gas, I think." He took a glance at his silver-haired friend. "I'm not saying that what you have experience was…hallucinations…I'm just saying—"

"Syleon, I know you more than anyone else." Lord Prestonheim sighed. "I cannot explain to you well what they were because, you really won't believe unless you see it."

"Then, see it, I shall." Commander Crovar smugly commented.

The silver-haired Commander's eyes widened. "W-what about the fleet?! It's too dangerous for—"

"Come on, August! You handled it quite well, and we have almost the same exousia reserves. Surely, it wouldn't be that bad." The proud Commander laughed at the thought of Lord Prestonheim's worried look.

"A lot of my men had died! This is different!" Lord Prestonheim insisted. "You might…"

"Die?" Commander Crovar guffawed at the thought. "Are you underestimating me, August?" The old Commander sighed. "You know what, I'm tired. Let's continue this when we had our sleep." He turned away from Lord Prestonheim who fumbled for words to say to his friend.

Lord Prestonheim knew his friend was sulking. He always sulked and he hated that attitude of his, but what can he do? Once Syleon does that, you have no choice but to wait for him speak to you again. Even at this age, he still knew his friend's moodiness transcended their maturity.

He massaged the bridge of his nose once more and laid down. The camp was starting to get livelier and its going to be difficult for him to sleep if he waited another moment more. He closed his eyes and faded to a short energetic sleep.

It was already at the highest level of the Andenoon when he woke up. Syleon, was still asleep snoring and mumbling his way as he tried to fit himself in the regularly sized bed. Lord Prestonheim sighed as he rubbed his eyes. He forgot how noisy Commander Crovar was when he slept. He remembered clearly how his tent was placed at the opposite end of a camp just to avoid the other knights being disturbed by such a loud snore.

The snoring sounded like someone choking on their food. When that happened, Lord Prestonheim would often times smack his friend in the face—and so he did.

"OW!" Commander Crovar got up in bed looking around confused while holding the hilt of saber. "Who? What?! Is there an invasion?!"

It never grew old on him! Surprisingly, he still loved the staggard and confused look on his friends face when he slapped him.

"You…were…choking!" He stifled a laugh and kept a straight face as his confused friend tried to get a grasp of the situation. "And it's already late in the Andenoon, we can't keep our Prince waiting."

"I—I do not choke! Crovars never do!" Commander Crovar proudly thumped his chest and then, cleared his throat. "Should we be getting umm…food now?"

The silver-haired Commander smiled, "You've never changed!" He nodded and proceeded to call a guarding knight to order lunch. The knight came back with a tray of freshly picked fruits, a bottle of pickled berries, smoked trout, pickled beef, and a freshly roasted mountain hare that the beastman caught at the heart of the hills.

The old friends shared a hearty meal and after gobbling up the food, they hurriedly cleaned themselves and went to the Prince's tent to continue the meeting they had the night prior. The knights guarding the Prince's tent greeted with a salute before they entered the tent.

They entered the tent and was surprised to see scattered parchments and empty inkwells on the ground. The Prince and his ward were busily scribbling on the table. Rolls and rolls of parchment piled on the table that almost made a fortress of rolled sheep skin.

Lord Prestonheim cleared his throat to get the Prince's attention, "Good day, Arterius, what is all of these?" He asked.

Arterius looked at him with a tired smile. His eyes had dark circles obviously from sleeplessness. "Good day, godfather…this? This is ahhhhh…" He yawned. "Pardon me. Ahem. These are letters to the Senate and the other Houses and Guilds. Basically, I am trying to ask for their support in loaning us for ores and manpower to get us started."

Both the old knights looked at each other. "B-but Prince Arterius, doing it in such a huge scale could mean the rest of them knowing—" Commander Crovar commented.

Prince Arterius approached both of them and handed them each a parchment. Lord Prestonheim unfurled the scroll and was shocked to read its contents.

"W-what is this?! Would they even believe in this?!" Lord Prestonheim exclaimed. "You're inviting them here! A-are you…"

"Insane?" Prince Arterius interrupted. "Perhaps, I am godfather. But this is our only way to get their attention and support!"

"Madness!" Commander Crovar rolled back the parchment. "Telling them about this upfront and begging for the things needed is just…No! I'm sorry Prince Arterius, but I won't let you do it."

Prince Arterius looked at Lord Prestonheim begging for his approval. Unfortunately, the silver-haired Lord have to agree with his friend. This was madness. Lord Prestonheim knew that his godson had bit off more than he could chew with his plan.

But how could he help his godson with this predicament? Is he willing to let his godson invite all of the Senators here and beg for their generosity? The last thing Lord Prestonheim would want was his godson becoming a laughingstock again. He knew how difficult it was for Prince Arterius to pull-off a task like this. He knew that the poor prince had to prove himself to the Senate and his father for his worthiness. This might get him back to being ridiculed.

Lord Prestonheim thought hard on what the next step would be to get the weapons they needed. Those blades and armory could really spell success for them inside the hole. The silver-haired Commander never doubted the freed slaves abitilies. He saw that firsthand, how they handled the Dhampiirs but also with that, he saw how draining the spells they have to use to kill those monsters.

A sword or an arrow made of Adamantite and aetherite alloy could really make a difference. But since it's forbidden for them to acquire it, they have to be crafty with it. Even if he hired them under his Auxillarium brigade, the freed slaves still won't get the necessary weapons they need.

Lord Prestonheim's desperation to save his godson's face and this covert mission grew more desperate. There was still one option they could do that is possible, but it would probably raise a few eyebrows at the camp. Then again, it's a lesser risk compared to the ones they have in mind.

Lord Prestonheim went outside and asked one of the guarding knights to call for Tristam, his ward. Not a moment to spare, Tristam came rushing inside the tent bowing to the prince and greeting them both Commanders.

"Tristam, I will make this quick. When you surveyed the mines after the horrific incident, where were the weapons?" He asked.

Without any hesitation, Tristam answered. "Bieroffs' knights were too afraid to loot them away. So it stayed there at the camp perhaps until now."

Commander Crovar's eyes widened, he knew exactly what Lord Prestonheim was thinking. "Are you insane, August?! Are you trying to desecrate the dead?!"

"Are you willing to get the Principalia in turmoil with a Lucresia at the helm?" Lord Prestonheim asked him.

His old friend didn't say a word. He knew that was the only thing they could do. The best viable option that won't get them questioned. Although, it was an unspoken rule in the Principalia to never loot a dead person or knight, some still did this, and it looked like Lord Prestonheim and the freed slaves would be part of that few.

Prince Arterius' eyes widened as the stark reality of his godfather's desperation became apparent.

"Godfather, you're not doing what I think you're doing, aren't you?" The prince felt uncomfortable just thinking about it. "That's just…I…maybe there's another way—oh dear! There isn't" Prince Arterius looked horrified as Lord Prestonheim stared at him with conviction.

"By the gods! I hope their souls forgive me for what I am about to do." He mumbled to himself.