Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 377 - 376: Negotiations at the Border

Facing Hosman’s elegant and confident smile, Glen realized that the grand aristocrat, renowned for his foresight and keen intuition, was far from losing his mind. The frequent aristocratic gatherings held since last winter in Count Hosman’s territory were more than just ”business exchanges.” Through numerous transactions of alchemical potions and magic guide technology, a group led by the Hosman family had formed, wary and vigilant of the Cecil influence.

This group shares similar interests and has a common target of vigilance. Ironically, the vast benefits that brought this group together were created by the Cecil clan—they are precisely what they are vigilant against.

The newly risen Cecil clan is a land flowing with gold and silver—this consensus gradually formed among the southern aristocrats in the last part of last winter. Initially, they did not understand the value of the alchemical potion merchants wandering everywhere or the expanding magic web and mining machinery systems. But once Count Hosman gathered everyone together and exchanged information, the aristocratic leaders realized the enormous scope of these businesses. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence would be astounded by the staggering wealth, realizing that the little gold coins they grasped compared to the entire Cecil family’s fortune were insignificant.

Such vast amounts of gold and silver are piling up in the treasury of the Cecil family, who accumulate wealth more than war, yet not through warfare.

However, rashly opposing the Cecil surname is unwise. Regardless of what this family was like in the past century, their restored honor is now an undisputed fact. Even the King himself must approach today’s Cecil family with respect and propriety. But if a reasonable cause can be found, one that can unite the majority of southern nobles and make sense in front of the royal family... the problem doesn’t seem that complex.

”It’s said that Duke Cecil has already gathered an army of thousands, which proves one thing—despite his somewhat mad behavior, his sanity is intact. He knows he must wield enough military power to protect his wealth,” Count Hosman leisurely remarked. ”Most of this force consists of new recruits, but their numbers are still considerable. And it’s said that the Cecil clan has repelled two monster invasions from the Gondor wasteland, though I believe that should be attributed to the legendary duke’s personal prowess, but it also shows that Cecil’s forces have seen bloodshed—so we must rally a group to ensure security.”

”You also mentioned Duke Cecil’s personal strength... an ancient legend, surely difficult to handle, right?”

”Yes, certainly difficult to handle,” Count Hosman finally smiled, ”so we must devise extra ways to constrain the duke himself—at least to keep him preoccupied temporarily.”

Glen looked at his master; even as the intelligence head of the territory, he couldn’t always decipher all of Count Hosman’s thoughts, but he knew that Count Hosman was likely arranging many other things in the shadows: ”Do you have a plan?”

”Duke Gawain Cecil has offended many beyond just destroying Anzu’s aristocratic protocols,” Count Hosman said with a smile, ”Have you heard about the recent incident of Cecil’s sanctuary to the followers of the Otherworldly God?”

”...Of course,” Glen nodded, ”I received the information immediately. The Cecil clan publicly announced they would accept those declared as heretics and exiled by the Holy Light church.”

Count Hosman nodded slightly: ”The Holy Light church has coveted the southern lands for quite some time now...”

”...Do you intend to involve those missionaries too?” Glen immediately frowned, ”With due respect, once those priests enter, it won’t be easy to make them leave...”

”I won’t let large amounts of wealth slip away from me,” Count Hosman shook his head, ”but the power of the Holy Light church can be utilized—since they wish to fight for their lord, let them do so.”

...

At the eastern border of Anzu, standing before ”Winterhold Castle” in the buffer zone, Duke Silas Loland sat on his trusty warhorse of many years, taking a deep breath of the spring chill from the Typhon direction, the cool air quickly filling his lungs, invigorating his spirit slightly.

The tall Winterhold Castle stood on a rocky plateau. During almost the entire past winter, countless slave laborers, masons, carpenters, and transcendents built the fortress in the shortest time without regard to cost. Nearly a hundred slaves were exhausted to death or died of other accidents during the process, and even a Typhon architect was crushed to death by falling stones from the dome. But the enormous cost was worth it—the solid and massive fortress rose from the ground, and despite being built in an incredibly short time, it is poised to fulfill its imminent historical significance.

Winterhold Castle amalgamates Anzu and Typhon’s styles, featuring Anzu court’s elegance and refinement while manifesting the Typhon Empire’s profound solemnity through its black towers. In front of the fortress, an open flatland allows guards and ministers of the two countries to rest and observe, while only one path leads to the fortress, with each side occupied by Anzu and Typhon. Currently, Silas Loland stands on the Anzu side.

He controlled his somewhat restless warhorse—a companion in years of dealings with the Typhon people, the horse even recognized the breath of Typhon Soldiers. The armor, banners, and insignias of the soldiers across the road made the warhorse slightly tense. Then Silas Loland raised his head to look across the wide road at the figure opposite him.

An elegant female knight rode a brown warhorse, with impressive long gray hair, her appearance seeming quite young. She wore no helmet, nor had she tied up her long hair, allowing it to flow freely in the wind. Her sharp eyes emerged from under the flying strands, and they were now focused on Silas Loland.

Silas Loland, with a warrior’s demeanor, offered a slight smile to the female knight, greeting her with courtesy while maintaining a respectful distance. He certainly knew who she was—an heir of the Wendell family from the Typhon Empire, the youngest Wolf General in history, and currently the highest-ranking commander of Winterwolf Fortress. Since she took command, the knights of the Loland Clan, and even Silas Loland himself, had dealt with her multiple times, making them ”old acquaintances” to some degree.

After exchanging greetings, Duke Silas couldn’t help but glance back at Belk Loren, who was also on horseback behind him—the heir of the Loland Clan, possessing talents far beyond his peers, considered a pride of Longwind Fortress. Yet, compared to the ”Wolf General” opposite, Belk still had many signs of immaturity.

However, it didn’t matter. Experience and hard work could compensate for a lot. Belk possessed the excellent bloodline of the Loland Clan and a strong belief in pursuing honor. As long as he maintained this motivation, he could eventually stand alone and lead Longwind Fortress.

The great sun gradually reached its zenith in the sky. As the magic from the sun filled the air, the dome above Winterhold Castle began to shine brilliantly. The magic-conducting materials embedded in the dome absorbed the magic in the sunlight, subsequently driving the heavy, purple steel-clad door to slowly open.

The ritual officer emerged from the castle and began to perform music in front of the castle’s drawbridge.

A quarter of an hour past noon, the blurry lines on the surface of the great sun became clear, and two parallel convoys appeared on the wide road leading to the castle. One convoy displayed Anzu’s sword and shield crest, while the other bore Typhon’s shield and crown flag.

The soldiers on both sides of the road began to tense up, a low, grinding sound of armor plates resonating through the surroundings. Silas Loland also tensed his muscles, keeping his eyes fixed on the two convoys heading towards the castle gate—he didn’t know which carriage held the King, nor which held the Typhon Emperor, but he knew that each carriage contained at least two high-level knights and one high-level mage, and the entire convoy had two legendary powerhouses as guards. With such secure protection, theoretically, nothing should go wrong.

Yet he couldn’t help but feel tense, for this was a moment that would decide the fate of both nations.

—The King was guarded by the royal family’s elite, while he, the Duke of the East, was responsible for the entire security of Winterhold Castle.

Nothing happened. Under the watchful eyes of Silas Loland, Belk Loren, and Andresha Wendell, the convoys carrying the rulers and their ministerial teams from both nations entered the gates of Winterhold Castle.

Fifteen minutes later, the heavy gates of Winterhold Castle slowly closed, and above the castle, the skylight on the main building’s dome opened, with two bright beams of magical brilliance shooting through the skylight, straight into the sky.

Seeing those two beams, Duke Silas Loland breathed a slight sigh of relief.

Those were signals released by the legendary powerhouses who entered the castle to provide close protection—the King of Anzu and the Typhon Emperor each had a legendary-level spellcaster beside them. Once inside the castle, they would connect their life force with the sovereigns they served, then send signals through the dome’s skylight. As long as those signal beams were present, it meant the hearts of Anzu and Typhon’s rulers were still beating.

Next, according to the previously agreed meeting process, the monarchs of the two countries would first engage in a face-to-face private talk lasting half a day, followed by an open, formal negotiation. Duke Silas Loland of the East would also attend the subsequent negotiation process, and finally, under the witness of everyone, the two nations would formally conclude a peace treaty.

Silas Loland silently contemplated the upcoming meeting process and slightly raised his head, gazing at the two beams shooting into the sky from the castle above, drawing the emotions of all present.

A small bird flew across the clear sky, seemingly curious about those two unusual beams. It circled between them a few times, then emitted a pleasant chirp, spiraling upwards and eventually disappearing beyond Duke Silas’s line of sight.

A bird singing above Winterhold Castle... perhaps that was a symbol of peace.

Duke Silas Loland, though a warrior, occasionally with the soul of a poet, sighed softly in his heart.