Chapter 176

Chapter 176. Bernard, Dragonbreath Plain

In the royal capital of Orlandia, night lay deep.

Inside Minister of Intelligence Bernard’s simply furnished study,

the habitual flattery and respect that Bernard wore on his face during the day had vanished without a trace.

In their place was a calm and indifference as deep as still water.

At that moment, a servant dressed in a black cloak stood bowed before him, reporting in a low voice.

“Minister, the latest news has come from the ‘Roving Falcons’ in the Western Frontier. At present, the three armies of the Western Frontier are advancing swiftly.

“They have already recovered several cities in the south and center, as well as some key passes in the north.

“At this pace, I fear Storm City will return to House La Roche’s rule in less than a month.”

Bernard listened quietly, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the raised mark on his palm. There was no surprise on his face.

He nodded and asked, “What movements have there been on the Federation’s side recently?”

“The latest information we received came ten days ago.

“According to the intelligence, Hofgard has already joined forces with the Land of Flowing Wind, Aslaed, and formally launched an attack against Wanliu.

“The other major federations, such as Valeria, Mysocia, and Cintra, still seem to be observing for now, but the situation has already descended into complete chaos.

“I fear that by now, they are already fighting among themselves internally and have no time to concern themselves with the kingdom.”

Bernard nodded lightly, as though weighing the value of this information.

After a moment, he spoke in a steady voice.

“Well done. Glenn. Now, send people to the Eastern Frontier. Whether by spreading rumors or some other method,

“have the terms of the secret alliance Federico has just reached with House Medici of the Southern Frontier—especially the portion targeting the Eastern Frontier—quietly passed to the core members of House Russell...”

The black-clad servant named Glenn paused almost imperceptibly at those words.

He raised his head, and a trace of confusion flashed through his eyes. “Hm? My lord, did you not... personally bring about this alliance just now? Why would you...”

His words came to an abrupt halt beneath Bernard’s calm, rippleless gaze.

There was no anger in that gaze, yet it made Glenn feel as though he had fallen into an ice pit. Cold sweat soaked his back.

“My lord, this subordinate deserves death! I... I will do it at once!” Glenn hurriedly lowered his head, his voice carrying a nearly undetectable tremor.

Looking at his terrified manner, a faint smile instead appeared on Bernard’s face.

He rose, walked around the desk, came to Glenn’s side, and reached out to pat his tense shoulder.

His tone became exceptionally gentle, even carrying a touch of an elder’s warmth.

“Glenn, you have followed me for so long. There is no need to be so nervous, much less afraid.

“Today is a good day, one worth celebrating. Go and prepare. Later, accompany me for dinner.”

Glenn’s taut nerves relaxed slightly, but his attitude remained utterly respectful. He bowed and answered,

“Yes, Minister. It is this subordinate’s honor to dine with you.”

He turned, preparing to withdraw. But just as he reached the door, he seemed to suddenly remember something. He stopped, turned back, and saluted again.

“Minister, there is one more matter. Concerning the task you assigned before you left, the matter of altering... no, polishing the prophecy His Holiness the Pope received.

“The ‘Roving Falcons’ hidden within the Holy See... have completed it.”

Hearing this news, Bernard’s usually expressionless face finally relaxed visibly.

He looked at Glenn, his gaze filled with undisguised approval.

“Glenn,” Bernard said very softly, “you have done extremely well. Far beyond my expectations.

“When all of this settles, you will replace me and sit in the position of Minister of Intelligence of the Kingdom. You are worthy of that seat.”

Glenn’s body trembled violently. He lowered his head deeply, hiding the excitement and fanaticism in his eyes, and his voice shook faintly.

“Yes! All glory and loyalty are offered to you, Minister Bernard!”

After saying this, he did not linger any longer. He respectfully withdrew from the study and gently closed the door behind him.

Inside the empty and dim room, only Bernard remained.

He did not return behind the desk. Instead, he slowly walked to a plain wooden chair in the room and sat down.

From within his coat, he took out a neatly folded parchment document.

It was the letter of appointment Duke Federico had issued to reward his achievement in bringing about the Southern Frontier alliance, granting him the title of Count of Whalesong City.

Under the candlelight, Bernard lowered his head and stared at this document that represented noble status and glory. The corner of his mouth slowly began to curl upward.

A low, twisted laugh escaped from deep within his throat.

“Heh-heh-heh... Nobility? Glory?” he murmured, his laughter filled with endless mockery and contempt. “Ridiculous... truly, utterly ridiculous!”

He lifted his hand and touched his own cheek. That laughter gradually grew higher, carrying suppressed madness and venomous resentment.

“Father! Can you see this?! Can you see this from heaven?!”

He muttered toward the empty room, his voice tearing from excitement.

“These so-called great men, who boast of their noble blood and look upon us as weeds beneath their feet! Federico La Roche! Hackson Medici!

“They have all been played in the palm of the hand by the lowborn fisherman’s son they despised!

“All their struggles, all their schemes, are nothing more than pieces on my chessboard!”

His voice suddenly turned incomparably sharp, filled with hatred carved into the bone.

“And you! Ferens Russell! You arrogant Eastern Frontier bastard!

“All the humiliation you inflicted upon my father and upon me back then!

“I will repay it to you a hundredfold... no! A thousandfold! I will personally watch your family’s foundation collapse. I will watch everything you cherish turn to ash before your eyes!”

Just then, a faint cold wind slipped into the room through some unknown crack.

Whoosh—whoosh—

Every candle on the desk and walls went out at once.

The entire room instantly sank into complete darkness.

Only Bernard’s gradually calming, low breathing proved that this place was not empty...

........

The scene returned to the Western Frontier, outside Monta City.

After leaving behind a portion of the soldiers to assist Count Ochi in stabilizing the city defenses and restoring order, Viscount Armand did not remain for long.

Before long, he led the main force out once more, continuing their march along the road toward the north.

Over the next few days, the march went exceptionally smoothly.

The small towns and one small city they passed along the way offered almost no meaningful resistance.

The defenders had either long since fled at the first sign of trouble, or opened their gates and surrendered after a few token gestures of resistance.

Clearly, Iman’s order to abandon the outer strongholds and contract his forces had already reached these places.

The unstoppable momentum of the Western Frontier army had also completely destroyed the will of these garrison troops to resist.

On the afternoon of the fifth day, the army’s vanguard scouts discovered a Federation unit escorting supplies northward.

There were roughly four to five hundred men, and judging from their appearance, they had withdrawn from some recently abandoned stronghold and were preparing to rendezvous at Storm City.

Viscount Armand made a decisive judgment on the spot and ordered the entire army to accelerate, launching a direct charge.

This was a battle as overwhelming as breaking dead branches.

Facing Western Frontier elites who held an absolute advantage in both numbers and quality, this Federation unit collapsed almost the moment contact was made.

Most were annihilated, while a small number fled into the wasteland amid the chaos.

After the battle ended, the army was rather pleased to take possession of the supplies that had originally been intended for Storm City, slightly easing the pressure on their provisions during the long march.

After clearing the battlefield, the army continued northward. Once they crossed a low hill, the scene before them suddenly opened wide.

At Viscount Armand’s signal, Eli rode up to the high point of the hill and looked into the distance.

Ahead lay the boundless Dragonbreath Plain.

The plain was vast and flat. The withered grass of autumn had turned a desolate yellow-brown, stretching all the way to the end of his vision.

This was indeed an ideal battlefield for large armies to deploy and fight a decisive battle.

And in the far distance of the plain, the vague outline of a towering city could be seen, like a giant beast crouching upon the earth.

That was the former glory and pain of the Western Frontier—Storm City.

Looking at this flat expanse of land, Eli could not help falling into thought.

No wonder the Federation army had been able to sweep through western Western Frontier so quickly after catching them by surprise and breaking through Storm City, the strongest fortress.

Once Storm City, the most important support point and barrier, had been lost, the towns and cities behind it had faced such open terrain.

Against the Federation main force, which had long since gathered strength, it truly would have been difficult to organize an effective defense in depth.

His gaze turned farther north, where the rolling Dragonbreath Mountains stretched across the horizon like the spine of a great dragon.

They separated the Western Frontier from the cold air currents of the Northern Frontier.

And Storm City had been built against an important branch of the Dragonbreath Mountains. Its terrain was perilous, easy to defend, and difficult to attack.

Beside him, Viscount Armand also climbed to the top of the hill. He reached out and pointed northeast, where the faint outline of a fissure in the mountains could be seen.

“Do you see that? That is the only route into the heart of Dragonbreath Plain—Kigaka Gorge.

“In front of the gorge’s exit, there is also an important military town called Anchorhold City. Just like its name, it is the key point that guards the gorge and shields the plain.

“Once Marquess Claire and Marquess Marcus’s central route army finishes clearing the cities along the way,

“they will enter the plain from that direction through Kigaka Gorge and rendezvous with our southern route army and Marquess Kola’s northern route army.”

Afterward, he looked around at the surrounding terrain and finally made his decision.

“We will make camp here, relying on this hill and the woods behind us.

“On one hand, we will clear out any remnant Federation forces that may gather here. On the other, we will rest in place and wait to rendezvous with the other two armies.”

Eli nodded to show that he understood.

He took one final look at the distant, blurry outline of Storm City, then at the vast plain before him, which was about to witness the Western Frontier’s final vengeance.

The final, and most difficult battle, was about to arrive...