Grand Duke Fisablen readily accepted
Lorist felt like he'd made a fool of himself, agonizing over it for so long. As it turned out, the man wasn't the least bit worried about being harmed. Thinking about it, that made sense — if he invited Grand Duke Fisablen only to plot against him, the Norton Family's reputation would be finished the moment word got out.
Forget whether anyone would trust the Norton Family's credibility ever again — most of his family knights would probably abandon him. On the Galentea Continent, a family's reputation was the most sacred honor. At least most nobles, knights, and commoners shared this view. Some nobles and knights would even sacrifice their own lives for their family's honor.
Just like Lorist himself, who had to serve the
On the Galentea Continent, keeping one's word and loyalty remained the traditional virtues nobles extolled. Even when nobles schemed against each other behind closed doors, they at least made sure their outward words and appearances painted their actions in a righteous light. Across nearly a thousand years of continental history, there had been precious few rebels, and every single one had been nailed to the pillar of infamy, becoming a cautionary tale for all time. Such was the strange tradition of the Galentean people: if a superior lord was unjust, a vassal lord could resist — but never rebel.
Fine, it was all this sly old fox's fault. Why did he just accept the invitation without even asking why? Did he really not fear Lorist doing him harm? Or did he look down on Lorist, not believing he had the nerve to touch him? Lorist gritted his teeth and dumped every imagined transgression onto the old man coming to dinner, but he still had to put on a cheerful smile and enthusiastically welcome Grand Duke Fisablen into his command tent.
Lorist had arranged a private dinner — just a single table of food and drink inside the tent, for himself and Grand Duke Fisablen alone. He hadn't planned some grand army-wide celebration. First, he already had five children, so Princess Sylivia's pregnancy wasn't exactly earth-shattering news. Second, he worried that a full military banquet might give his family members the wrong impression — that he placed too much importance on the distinction between legitimate and illegitimate children. After considerable deliberation, he decided a private dinner with Grand Duke Fisablen to share the news would suffice, without needing to broadcast it everywhere.
This was, strictly speaking, only the second private meeting between Lorist and Grand Duke Fisablen. The first had been in the royal capital of Windbury, when Lorist privately negotiated with the Grand Duke for Princess Sylivia's hand in marriage. The talks fell apart because Lorist refused the Grand Duke's third condition — that he exile his concubines and illegitimate children — and Lorist left in a huff. Then, a year later, Lorist led the four-family Northland Alliance and drove Grand Duke Fisablen and his family's armed forces all the way back to his own territory, forcing him to offer up Princess Sylivia as the price of a ceasefire.
Then came the Second Prince's expedition to the Eastern Frontier Province, where Grand Duke Fisablen immediately knelt in submission and pledged fealty, joining Lorist under the same kingdom and same camp. Lorist couldn't help but admire the old man's thick skin and adaptability, and his wariness of the old fox only deepened. After the invasion of the four central duchies, despite being on the same side, Lorist had never actually met with the old man privately — every military council the Second Prince convened was always a packed affair.
Perhaps Grand Duke Fisablen thought Lorist had suffered a setback during the night raid a couple of nights ago and wanted to pick his brain. After all, both he and Lorist were responsible for maintaining a degree of offensive pressure on Handera Duchy's three forward defensive positions, keeping the defenders on edge. The old veteran had already heard about Lorist's failed night raid. But even an old hand ran into new problems — he was just as helpless against those three defensive positions, and could only comfort Lorist by telling him to take his time and not rush.
Lorist didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so he finally came out and told the Grand Duke that today's dinner was actually to share some good news: Sylivia was pregnant, and that was why he'd invited him over for a private celebration — not because of any failed night raid.
Sylivia was pregnant? Lorist hadn't expected the old man to care far more about this news than he did. Overjoyed, Grand Duke Fisablen abandoned his wine entirely and began circling the table, muttering incessantly about how Sylivia absolutely had to take care of herself and stay healthy. He even started considering where to find an experienced midwife for her…
Lorist nearly collapsed. Wasn't this thinking a bit too far ahead? Sylivia's belly wasn't even showing yet — the baby wouldn't arrive for at least another half year. It took a long while before Grand Duke Fisablen realized he was losing composure. His weathered face reddened, and he sat back down to drink. But perhaps the old man was a bit overexcited, because he turned the tables and started toasting Lorist. Once he got going, he drank himself into a stupor, and Lorist had to send men to escort him back.
Two days later, Lorist received an invitation from Grand Duke Fisablen. Assuming it was a return dinner, he headed over with just Gennorio. But when they reached the entrance of the Grand Duke's military camp, he found the entire camp decorated with lanterns and festive banners, brimming with celebratory cheer. Curious, Lorist grabbed a few sentries at the gate and asked what the happy occasion was.
"Well, everyone's delighted — they're congratulating the Grand Duke on his granddaughter getting her belly put good and proper every year…"
Pfft — Gennorio, standing beside him, nearly choked. Lorist, on the other hand, didn't know what to say. Old man, if you wanted to celebrate, you should have at least made the announcement clear! This game of telephone had turned the whole thing into a joke. Still, Lorist wasn't about to pick a fight with some lowly gate sentries. He merely stood at the camp entrance, seething inwardly. Fine, old man — you want to blow this up? I can't exactly let you have all the fun while I sit around in silence, can I? He turned and ordered Gennorio to send word back to Tiger Roche — let that camp celebrate and feast for three days as well, with rewards double what the Grand Duke was giving. Everything to come out of Lorist's own pocket…
In the end, even the Second Prince in Pedro City got word that Lorist had knocked up Grand Duke Fisablen's granddaughter, Princess Sylivia, and thrown a grand celebration lasting three days. The Second Prince sent Lorist an extravagant congratulatory gift in anticipation of the future Norton Family heir. Lorist felt like someone had pushed him onto a stage — just about everyone now treated the child in Sylivia's belly as the Norton Family's future head.
The result of all this, however, was a dramatic easing of relations between Lorist and Grand Duke Fisablen. The Grand Duke came by every few days to ask about new developments with Princess Sylivia or to discuss military matters. Lorist found that the old man had a keen sense of self-awareness — he knew Sylivia didn't care for her own grandfather, still holding a grudge over how he'd sent her to the Norton Family all those years ago. So the old man gathered the precious medicinal herbs he'd collected and handed them over to Lorist, to be passed along to Princess Sylivia under Lorist's name.
For instance, Grand Duke Fisablen had heard from the locals that the Nibalaku River was home to a species of golden-scaled red-lipped fish whose swim bladder was a highly prized miscarriage-prevention ingredient in pharmacology — though in recent years it had become exceedingly rare and difficult to catch. So the Grand Duke recruited a large number of craftsmen and began building boats on the Nibalaku River, ostensibly for fishing. When Handera Duchy caught wind of this, they misunderstood, thinking the Second Prince intended to launch an amphibious assault. In response, they hastily established an additional garrison corps in the riverbend area downstream to reinforce their defenses…
Through his scouts' reconnaissance, Lorist swiftly noticed the changes in Handera Duchy's defensive force disposition. After a moment's thought, he understood what had happened. He invited Grand Duke Fisablen over to discuss the matter, intending to apply even greater defensive pressure on Handera Duchy.
Lorist's decision was straightforward. He assigned the Kenmais Family's twenty thousand heavy infantry to guard the main camp, then ordered the
This was, in fact, the second of the three strategies Lorist had proposed to the Second Prince — the feigned flanking maneuver. But what Lorist was actually doing wasn't a genuine flanking operation. Rather, it was meant to pile defensive pressure on Handera Duchy, forcing them to conscript and assemble yet more garrison forces along the river, straining their supply lines and eroding their capacity for sustained warfare.
Despite the grandiose spectacle — two corps across the river, scouts swarming everywhere, the pretense of building a road on the far bank drawing attention from all sides — Lorist was in fact busy not with his official duties at all, but with lining his own and the Fisablen Family's pockets with a little side income. Road construction proceeded at a leisurely pace, fishing one day and sunning nets the next, but organizing and leading the Flying Tiger Corps and the reserve corps on hunts? He threw himself into that with tremendous enthusiasm…
The Nibalaku River served as a natural dividing line across the four central duchies, splitting civilization from the untamed wilderness in two. On this side lay fertile farmland, neatly tended orchards, and tranquil villages. Across the river stretched primeval jungle, endless swampland, and unbroken chains of desolate hills. Even the hunters of the four central duchies rarely dared venture more than ten li from the riverbank, unwilling to risk venturing any deeper.
Some decades ago, the Fulanduo Duchy had entertained thoughts of developing the land across the river. They conscripted nearly a thousand commoners to clear and cultivate the farmland on the opposite bank, establishing several pioneer settlements. But when winter arrived, the magical beasts on the wild side of the river, driven by hunger, descended in packs upon those settlements. Had the Nibalaku River not been an unfrozen waterway, the beasts might well have crossed over and attacked the villages on this side too.
When the rainy season ended and people finally crossed the river by boat, they found that the settlements had been utterly annihilated. Every villager had perished at the beasts' jaws, leaving nothing behind but a scene of devastation and bloody traces warning off any who might follow. After this incident, practically all inhabitants of the four central duchies regarded the far bank of the Nibalaku River as a place of dread — they even gave it a name: the Demon Wilds…
According to the hunters of the four central duchies, the most commonly encountered magical beast across the river was the wasteland wolf — a supremely cunning creature. Folk legends held that wasteland wolves could actually understand human speech and would exploit this to lure hunters across the river deep into the jungle, where they themselves became the prey.
These wolves, larger than calves, were the overlords of the Demon Wilds. Pack-dwelling wasteland wolves were the most dangerous and the most vindictive. Grand Duke Handera himself, when he was young, had led a full battalion across the river on a hunting expedition. They encountered a pack of over twenty wasteland wolves, killing twenty before three or four escaped. Those survivors then rallied their kin, swarming together to launch relentless attacks on the Grand Duke's hunting party day and night. By the time Grand Duke Handera managed to flee back across the river, his nearly thousand-strong hunting force had been reduced to just over three hundred survivors…
Meat was scarce, and the grain supply was barely enough to keep the soldiers fed — eating well was out of the question. The dried meat and other provisions Lorist had his family ship from Northland only added enormous costs due to the long distance. Even Grand Duke Fisablen had ordered his family to drive a large herd of cattle and sheep from the grasslands to the front lines, only to find upon arrival that the animals had lost so much weight that even the fattest cattle had been reduced to skin and bone.
So when Grand Duke Fisablen recruited craftsmen to build boats, it wasn't solely for catching those rare golden-scaled red-lipped fish — supplementing his army's meat supply was another motive. When Lorist proposed targeting the magical beasts of the Demon Wilds across the river as a source of meat, the Grand Duke naturally threw his full support behind the idea.
For the Flying Tiger Corps, hunting magical beasts was old hat. From defending against magical beast tides in Norton territory to the winter expeditions into the untamed wilds, the number of beasts that had fallen to their weapons numbered well over a million. For the grass barbarian cavalry of the reserve corps, however, the thick-skinned, bull-strong rock bears, the fierce and powerful saber-toothed tigers, the terrifyingly enormous serpents, and the mud-swamp giant crocodiles clad in hides tougher than iron armor were all beasts they simply couldn't handle. Even the wasteland wolves — though the barbarians knew wolves well from the grasslands — were a size larger than any grassland magic wolf and could inflict devastating casualties.
But once the Flying Tiger Corps took the field, the reserve corps' grass barbarian cavalry had their eyes opened wide. The beasts that sent them fleeing on horseback were reduced to sitting targets before warwagon crossbows, converted into a steady supply of assorted meats. Within two months, the two camps were piled high with magical beast meat of every variety, to the point where a full battalion of soldiers had to be assigned solely to processing the fresh meat into various types of preserved jerky.
By then, the Flying Tiger Corps and reserve corps had swept across more than half the Demon Wilds and were gradually shifting southward. When Handera Duchy spotted enemy scout cavalry on the far bank, they grew alarmed, scrambling to erect a chain of watchtowers and signal beacons along the riverbank to provide timely warning of any enemy crossing. They had absolutely no idea that Lorist on the other side was busy hunting magical beasts and had long since forgotten all about his original assignment.
What Lorist had his eye on now was the beasts' pelts — a massive source of profit. The Galentea Continent grew no cotton; winter warmth depended entirely on furs and pelts of every description. Though Lorist had established a large ranch in western Northland raising nearly a million head of cattle and sheep, ordinary cattle and sheep hides were not ideal for winter insulation. It was the pelts of certain magical beasts that made the finest choice for surviving the cold.
Some rare magical beast pelts were worth their weight in gold. Beyond meat and pelts, certain parts of magical beasts also held excellent medicinal value, commanding extremely high prices on the market. Lorist did some rough calculations — two months of hunting had netted him close to a million gold Fordes, and that was after the share given to Grand Duke Fisablen. Who would have thought that coming to war could yield such a windfall? Lorist delighted in the enterprise all the more, even ignoring the front-line intelligence reports the Second Prince sent from Pedro City. He had made the hunt his true profession.
Before he knew it, October had arrived. Grand Duke Fisablen had to dispatch over ten messengers in succession to finally drag Lorist back from the Demon Wilds. The moment he stepped through the camp gates, Lorist saw the Grand Duke hurrying toward him with news: Handera Duchy had secretly dispatched an envoy, and the man had already been waiting in the main camp for four days.
……