Chapter 142: Iron World

Chapter 142: Iron World

Iron World

Mountain Pass, Camp

The newly introduced Petra bowed her head gracefully. "Please, there's no need to introduce me as a Saint Candidate."

Lady Audrey said nothing but moved aside, allowing Petra to check on Lord Lansius.

Despite Petra's modesty, she appreciated being recognized and treated well. Although young, she understood how nobles could behave, especially when in pain. Due to the propaganda from the Midlandia Earldom, she often encountered patients who expected immediate recovery, which was simply impossible.

Time for work. She cheered herself up, hoping this patient would be kind.

First, Petra visually inspected the bandages for any yellowing or signs of pus. The linen, changed just yesterday, was still largely dry and showed no discoloration.

She then checked for signs of healing or any redness around the wound, looking for persistent swelling or tenderness that could indicate an infection or other complications. "My Lord, could you try to flex your ankle a bit?"

Lansius complied without much trouble.

"Any pain or discomfort?" Petra asked, observing his range of motion and noting that the lord did not exert himself too much.

"Just a bit stiff," he explained.

Petra smiled gently and replied, "That's enough for now, My Lord."

"Should I try to move my knee?" Lansius inquired.

"Maybe in a few days. The movement in your ankle is sufficient to indicate that your wound is healing properly."

"Does he need ointment?" Audrey asked.

"Once the wound is dry, we can use honey to promote healing. Later, we can apply garlic paste, wine, or vinegar to ensure the stitches do not develop ulcers."

"Pardon me, Lady," Lansius called her attention. "This is just a fool’s curiosity since I’m a foreigner. I've seen mages perform their healing, but I’m curious about a Saint Candidate’s methods."

Petra smiled and extended her palm over his wound. She didn't appear to be concentrating, but Lansius' surprised expression indicated otherwise.

"How does it feel?" Audrey inquired.

Lansius turned to Audrey and replied, "It's warm and tingling, more noticeable than I anticipated."

Petra ceased the treatment. "You’ve had more than enough for now, My Lord. Doing more might impede your recovery."

"For curiosity’s sake, may I know why?"

Petra thought for a moment before explaining, "Like mages, our healing boosts regrowth. However, it could lead to overgrowth." She then noticed the lord's discomfort with his throat. "Is it hard to swallow, My Lord?"

He cleared his throat and responded, "Somewhat sore."

Petra then opened her basket, which Carla had carried. It was packed with pouches and glass vials stacked neatly. She took dried sage leaves from it, their edges curled and brittle with age. Turning to Carla, she instructed, "Take this to your physician. It’s sage leaves; he’ll know what to do. Add some vinegar and honey. It’s best done early so the Lord can eat comfortably. He needs his strength back."

Carla nodded and took the dried leaves with both hands as she left.

"You don’t need to ask the physician’s permission," Lady Audrey suggested.

"I must, My Lady. While I can perform healing magic, the physician knows more about medicine than I do."

Lord Lansius seemed surprised by her words, but it was Lady Audrey who commented, "You seem to have a great deal of respect for our physician. But he’s nobody special, just someone we recruited in South Hill."

Petra smiled. "Contrary to what the Midlandia Earldom wants people to believe, we're not so different from a trained physician and herbalist. Moreover, your physician certainly has more experience and knows more about your health."

Lady Audrey nodded and asked, "So is that the difference between your healing and that of mages?"

"You could say so, My Lady," Petra responded, aware of Audrey’s subtle magical aura and her rare eyes.

"So, a combination of mage healing and physician care," Lansius mused.

Petra simply nodded. Despite being on the run from the monastery, she felt that outsiders didn’t need to know the depth of their abilities.

***

Lansius

They let him rest and then tried some watered-down gruel for food, followed by a concoction of sage leaves at the end. He thought it would be sour from the vinegar, but the honey mostly covered the taste.

Audrey then convinced him to sleep some more. It wasn’t difficult for Lansius since he was still dizzy and feeling weak. He fell asleep and woke up feeling refreshed after what appeared to be several hours. He noticed the cooler air and the fading light and knew it was close to supper time.

"Ah, you've awakened," said a voice Lansius had never heard before, prompting him to turn toward the speaker. He saw an old gentleman in a baroque-looking white shirt. Despite his age, his physique suggested that he could probably still match his knights in a sword fight.

Lansius observed the clothing style, the sheen of the fabric, and the demeanor, and asked, "Are you the one I must thank for bringing me the Saint Candidate?"

"Very good," the old man chuckled, pleased with the reaction.

Audrey rose from her seat and stood beside Lansius. "He's the Lord of Dawn."

"Avery Dawn?" Lansius asked with wide eyes while trying to sit up. He hadn’t expected that name; he thought Avery would be further south, busy dealing with the marauding Nicopolans.

"Please, be at ease," Avery urged with a fatherly yet stern voice that made Lansius aware this was a man accustomed to command. "I'm merely helping. Even without the Saint Candidate's assistance, your physician would have treated you well," he remarked lightly.

"Still, to come this far when the road lurks with danger—how can I repay your help?" Lansius asked, as was expected of him.

Avery smiled and sipped his aromatic concoction. "I'm mostly pursuing my own curiosity. And you shouldn't say something like that to a stranger like me. I might have ulterior motives and plans to use you."

The older gentleman's candid approach seemed to impact Audrey, who glanced warmly at Lansius.

Avery reassured him, "Don't look for a deeper meaning beyond survival. I'm merely trying to make friends. With the world getting crazier around us and the Imperium's inability to enforce order, every wise noble should know that having allies is vital for their house's survival."

Outwardly, Lansius listened quietly. But inside, he felt that something was amiss. "I'm honored to be considered a friend, but as you can see, I'm thoroughly incompetent."

Avery snorted, but Lansius continued to humble himself, trying to bait the older gentleman into revealing his motives. "My own men betrayed me and I was almost killed. Thus, I'm giving up on the Nicopolans' business and plan to return home."

"As you should be," Avery said without hesitation, hinting at a different agenda that surprised Lansius. "If you are unable to fully commit to Nicopola, then you should let them sort out their issues."

Lansius could only nod in response.

Leaning forward, Avery said, "Still, while measuring oneself is important, one shouldn't lose sight of the big picture." He stared warmly at Lansius, adding, "Anyone could see that you currently possess the most successful military in the southeast part of the Imperium. And if the stories are true, you also have the Nomads, the Nicopolans, and even the half-beasts' support."

"Most are just exaggerations. And the Nicopolans rebelled."

"Only a small portion compared to the host of Nicopolans under you," said Avery as he leaned back in his seat.

Lansius had no immediate response, allowing Avery to continue, "Curiously, do you know why they rebelled?"

The tone indicated that it wasn't a question, but more of a quiz from a teacher to a student. Pondering for a bit, Lansius sighed and answered, "Greed."

Avery shook his head. "To me, it's not greed, but hope."

"Hope...?" Lansius squinted.

The men nodded solemnly.

"Gratitude for your hard work. You've accomplished a great deed by preventing the rebellion from spreading. I shall reward you accordingly when we get home." Lansius then found it appropriate to add, "Also, since we're on the topic, you should know that we're going home."

The men were surprised, but their expressions clearly showed gladness.

"But what about the campaign to Nicopola?" Dietrich asked.

"There's no such thing," Lansius revealed. "I've only offered Servius to form a free company. Any Nicopolans who want to return will have my blessing."

"But many will leave..." Sterling showed concern.

"As they should. They're not mine to keep, and they've helped us take South Hill, farm there, and some took part in defending Three Hills from the coup."

"Fewer troops also mean fewer mouths to feed," Sir Harold reminded Sterling, who nodded thoughtfully.

"I envision that the Nicopolans should use the three villages as their power base. They should farm and be self-reliant. We shall supply them with weapons, horses, and grains as loans, to be traded later for cash or land if they succeed in retaking parts of the province."

"It sounds like a risky endeavor," Audrey warned.

"It is, but I'm willing to take that risk," he replied. He then turned to the tall knight. "Sir Harold, how do you deal with the fact that we can't help the commoners in Nicopola from famine and winter?"

"It is what it is," the knight remarked with bitterness but without hesitation. "During a bad harvest, people die. That's nobody's fault but the weather."

"The curse of sedentary peoples," Sterling added, prompting Dietrich to nod in agreement.

Lansius looked at the large plate of food and couldn't help but comment, "I initially thought we could save people, but instead, we're sending more men to war."

"My Lord, have you thought about what goal you've set for the free company?" Sir Harold asked.

The question made Lansius think. "I haven’t given him a specific goal."

"Then, I'll talk to Servius. I think there’s a chance we can create a safe corridor, allowing commoners who are willing to farm to move to three villages."

"A safe corridor... I like the sound of that," Lansius' face brightened. "Tell me more about it."

***

Words circulated camp that the Lord of Korelia had recovered and resumed command. While not many had seen him face-to-face after that fateful night, they had no reason to distrust the Lord's staff. That night, the mood and morale in the camp slowly returned to their original state.

The next morning, Lansius appeared in front of his tent, seated and soaking in the warm glow of the sunlight. He was following the Saint Candidate's advice to absorb the sun’s rays to speed up his healing process. His wound was still bandaged and his skin looked pale, but otherwise, he appeared normal.

Soon enough, the men crowded around the tent. Many were offering him well wishes, while the rest tried their best to cheer up the Lord.

Lansius chuckled at their jests and felt gratitude for their words of comfort. Finding his chance, he spoke, "Lowlandians, hear me out." The men quickly listened.

"We've reached our goals in Umberland. There's nothing else to do here."

The men's faces smiled and grew excited. They knew what that meant.

Gazing at them with a smile, Lansius said, "So I say, let's go home. Korelia awaits."

"Victory!" one shouted, much to the others' laughter.

Their echoes had not yet subsided when one shouted, "Undefeated army!"

This time they glanced at each other, chuckling and grinning. "Undefeated!" another echoed, followed by many. It became a new rallying cry.

Lansius sat in peace, looking at his men with joy. They had fought battle after battle, and strong bonds had formed between them.

Then someone asked, "But My Lord, what about the Nicopolans?"

All eyes were on Lansius, who calmly explained, "You can tell them to raise their chins. I'm not the type to blame the son for their father's mistake. If they're guilty, then the military law will handle it. If they're not, then there's no issue."

His words calmed his men. Lansius continued, "You should also know that I'm going to form a free company for the Nicopolans. They can opt either to join, stay with us, or farm in peace as villagers. The details will be worked out later, but you shouldn't worry. Just think about home. How many days do you reckon we need to get there?"

The crowd turned lively with numbers being shouted and arguments thrown.

Lansius laughed at their reactions. And then someone he recognized squeezed through the crowd. "My Lord," he greeted.

"Farkas, you're here. Come, get closer." Lansius motioned for him to approach.

"Letters, My Lord. From Calub and Dame Daniella."

"Calub...?" Lansius felt it was odd. Calub should have posted his report alongside Sir Justin. So, a personal report must mean a warning. "Give me Calub's first."

Farkas took a sealed letter from a leather cover and offered it to Lansius.

Lansius unsealed the letter and read it twice. His facial expression turned serious.

Audrey returned from her rounds and the crowd parted for her and her guards to approach the tent. She caught Lansius reading a letter and stood next to him, knowing from a glance that it was a serious one.

She looked at the crowd and casually addressed them, "Don't you have things to do? Or do you need things to do?"

The crowd dispersed with grins like children avoiding their mother. They knew her words could end with arms and armor inspections, which they would fail and then be forced to clean and polish in front of a staff.

Lansius paid the crowd no heed, absorbed in the letter, and then, without glancing up, passed the letter to Audrey.

"What's it about?"

"Midlandia. A succession war in Midlandia, and the nobles want us as allies."

Audrey laughed mockingly. "But we're Lord Bengrieve's henchmen."

"They promised me Lord Bengrieve's castle and holdings if we could beat him."

Audrey laughed, finding it amusing, and Lansius did too. But behind their laughter, they were worried. They had grown into a force that even Midlandia's nobles couldn't ignore. And now, Midlandia wanted them to play an active part in their succession crisis, even going so far as to pit them against Lord Bengrieve.

"Does it say when?" Audrey asked as they basked in the morning sun.

"Calub said it has begun, but the major push will likely happen after winter."

"So, what will you do?"

"Nothing. I'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Lansius shrugged. "As for today, Sir Harold and Servius should be able to handle the free company and the safe corridor. Dietrich should lead the footmen to march back. We'll catch up on horseback in..." He looked at his wound and tried to flex it.

"Probably four to five days," Audrey suggested.

Lansius nodded. "Also, I'm planning to stay late and watch an airship," he changed the topic. "You said they're fast—that means they have propulsion, and I'm curious about what kind of fuel they use."

Audrey smiled widely. "I want to see it race against a horse."

The two chuckled. In the face of another greater conflict, they knew instinctively that they needed to seize every moment. Because no place was truly safe as the Imperium's vast domains continued to crumble.

***