Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Lansius, Leader of the Banner of the Unknown

When the question of casus belli was raised, Lansius shifted his posture for the first time, drawing the attention of those around him. “Let’s put that problem aside for now,” he suggested, his tone pleasant and friendly. “What if this has all been a misunderstanding?”

Robert’s aide looked at him in confusion, and Robert turned to Lansius with a hint of disdain. “A misunderstanding?” he challenged.

Seated comfortably, Lansius simply nodded. “I want you to continue ruling White Lake as you always have.”

Surprise flickered briefly across Robert’s face before he countered, “That must be a jest! I’m a defeated noble. Why would you make such an absurd statement?” His response was roundabout, seemingly designed to provoke Lansius into revealing his true intentions.

“My lord, I assure you I’m not jesting. I am extending an offer for cooperation between us,” Lansius replied resolutely, deliberately addressing Robert as his lord in an attempt to placate him.

“There’s no cooperation between the victor and the defeated. The relationship is between the conqueror and the subjugated. Why resort to pleasantries?” Robert retorted.

“I never intended to conquer you, Lord Robert,” Lansius responded with patience. In truth, he had nothing to offer that would impress Robert, but his ambitions lay elsewhere, and he might still have a chance to achieve them without relinquishing too much of his spoils.

Taking a deep breath, Robert asked, “Then how do you explain today’s battle?”

Lansius paused before answering, “Let’s consider it a mock battle.”

“A mock battle? For what purpose?”

“To bring about change,” Lansius declared enigmatically. “The realm south of Midlandia has been stagnant for far too long. I wish to change that.”

Viscount Robert

Robert was momentarily stunned by Lansius’s declaration.

Does he intend to unite Lowlandia?

The feuds among the Lowlandian nobles were older than the third Imperium itself. The ambition persisted, but nobody openly expressed it among peers.

Yet, Robert found it hard to dismiss Lansius’s statement, given the astounding victory his ragtag group had achieved over Robert’s larger, seasoned force. Many of his men were veterans Robert had personally recruited, trained, and led for more than two decades.

A blind bravado had been his undoing, but Robert felt the need to credit Lansius for creating a near-miracle victory. That made him ponder what he could accomplish with someone like Lansius serving as his marshal. Perhaps even the unification of Lowlandia was within reach, he mused.

However, he quickly dismissed that notion and instead asked, “Please indulge me? What exactly is your plan?”

“I wish Lord Robert to continue his rule, with a few beneficial changes for both of us,” Lansius clarified.

Suppressing a mix of skepticism and hope, Robert nodded. “Please, continue.”

“I propose military protection in exchange for a strategic castle as a base, and a portion of your income. The funds would be used to purchase food and other supplies from your domain, allowing wealth to circulate locally and preventing you from becoming any poorer than before.”

Lansius’s rough use of the language suggested a lack of noble upbringing, yet his innovative ideas were intriguing.

“So, a mercenary company?” Robert ventured.

“Not quite. A mercenary is hired to fight someone else’s war. That’s not my intent,” Lansius clarified.

“And what about rebuilding my forces? Would you permit it?” Robert asked, half in jest.

Fall of 4424, Korelia. Two Months After Lansius’s Victory

Lansius, the temporary officer of Korelia, was awed by the sight of the cloudless blue sky above him. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before, with a seemingly endless expanse of grass stretching out as far as the eye could see. It felt as if Korelia was the only human settlement in this part of the world, surrounded by the vast emptiness of a nomadic steppe.

Have I ever visited Mongolia? Lansius asked himself, but his memory offered no answer. While he could remember movies, books, or even games, he had a hard time remembering personal details of his life. He couldn’t even recall his nationality or origin, but that didn’t bother him anymore. Now, this life was all he had.

Sitting under a rectangular field tent, Lansius contentedly watched the building project he had envisioned for Korelia taking shape. The gray-colored canvas flapped in the breeze as the sun rose higher on the eastern horizon.

Several hundred men dug trenches on the west side, while another hundred worked on the southern side of the town. They were making trenches for city defenses.

He hated trenches, but there were not enough woods to construct a palisade even for just one side. To compensate for the lack of defense, Lansius had ordered his men to make picket fences and stakes using whatever wood was available.

Usually, this kind of work was frowned upon by the population. Unless they were exempted from annual tax. But, instead of the usual forced labor, Lansius was offering wages, much to people’s delight.

While Lansius believed in treating people fairly, his real intention was to prevent sabotage or dissidents. Moreover, he theorized that paid labor worked faster and was generally more reliable.

Just this week, Lansius’s view was vindicated. Aided by Lansius’s goal-oriented payment, the workers managed themselves efficiently. The defense work began to take shape right on schedule.

Another factor that contributed was the quick harvest time in Korelia. The area didn’t have much farmland, and after the festivities ended, Lansius had the full labor of the farmers at his disposal as well.

A billowing cloud of black smoke caught Lansius’s attention. It was the blacksmith Calub had invited from out of town to produce nails and bolt heads for their side project. Though the local smiths couldn’t produce swords or armor, they could handle simple repairs and maintenance.

Lansius had wanted Calub to head another project to build workshops. They wanted to employ craftsmen, artisans, and volunteers to produce crossbow parts.

As Lansius watched the project progress, a sudden horse’s neigh drew his attention. He glanced up and saw a friendly silhouette approaching.

“I see that you’re well enough to go outside today.” A hint of a smile was on Audrey’s lips as she approached closer and covered him with a fur coat.

“Ah, thanks.” Lansius felt the warmth and found it pleasant.

Audrey noticed how windy it was. “Mm, perhaps you shouldn’t be out here for too long.”

“Do I look that pale?” he asked.

“Well, prevention is always wise,” Audrey remarked smugly.

“You sound like Calub,” he chuckled. “Lemme check your forehead for a fever.”

His jest was shot down by a cold stare. “Not funny. You’ve been bedridden on and off for almost three weeks. Everybody is terrified.”

Lansius’s chuckle died down quickly. “I know. I’m sorry to make you worry.”

Audrey kept staring, and Lansius could only look down.

She let out a soft sigh before tenderly patting Lansius’s shoulder. He caught her hand with his own, savoring the warmth of her touch.

After a moment of comfortable silence, she asked, “I heard about the letters.”

Lansius exhaled deeply, awash in a mix of emotions. His recent victory had set off a chain of unexpected events, many completely beyond his control. And nothing could have prepared him for the response from Midlandia.

The triumph he had fought so hard to achieve now seemed to be pulling him further from his desires and closer to the chaos of war. On the other hand, it had also opened the door to great opportunities.