Chapter 115 - 39: [Idealism and Romanticism]

Chapter 115: Chapter 39: [Idealism and Romanticism]

"You are a Knight full of wisdom and courage, Lord Samael." Old Duke smiled. "If I continue to overthink and fear this and that, it would just be a buzzkill."

"Respected elder, I understand your concerns. The Exiles were originally a neutral faction. If you hastily choose a side, you might face retaliation from Monarchs like Sittika and Marina." Samael took off a floral garland from his neck and placed it around Old Duke’s neck. "Please rest assured on this point. We will keep it a secret. Furthermore, if any of you feel that our Underground City does not suit you, you can leave at any time."

"Samael and I promise that our Exile friends are free and can leave our Underground City at any time. You are by no means our slaves, but our respected allies. This is not a binding of allegiances, nor is it taking sides. If Monarchs like Sittika and Marina come again, we will bear the responsibility and never implicate any of you," Talia added.

Old Duke pondered for a moment.

"Go and ask them, see what they think," he finally said. "Since you’ve put it this way, it’s not my place to say much more."

"I’m in." Yaki raised his hand. "Good heavens, do you know how strong the Demon Race’s desire for self-actualization is? The traditional culture and natural instinct of our race dictate that we must create, pioneer, achieve, and live a life of value. Otherwise, how are we any different from lifeless husks?"

Hands shot up in unison. Amid the chaotic and enthusiastic murmurs of agreement, Old Duke counted the numbers and gave a helpless smile.

"Very well, you two." He sighed. "Future Master of the Hai Xin, and future Lord of New Rondolan, on behalf of the Duke Exile Tribe, I pledge my loyalty to you both."

...

The Ederic Empire’s Fifth Imperial Foundry, garrison fortress.

The fortress was only a few hundred meters from the Imperial Foundry. The sound of metal strikes—CLANG, CLANG—echoed between the buildings, repeating constantly at the specific, fixed frequency of a mechanical forging hammer. It sounded monotonous and rigid, carrying a buzzing overtone like a tuning fork.

Bert remembered his youth in the classrooms of the Imperial Comprehensive Polytechnic and Military Academy. A Scholar and court musician from the Floren Kingdom had once demonstrated in the lecture hall, striking a small, iron Y-shaped tuning fork. He told them that the object’s pitch was fixed, making it commonly used to tune out-of-tune instruments.

Anything that did not match the pitch was wrong—just like a strictly disciplined army.

The room was dim because the tall, pitch-black buildings of the Foundry blocked out the sunlight. The flames of the oil lamps on the walls trembled slightly, shaken by the surrounding CLANG, CLANG of metal, causing the lighting in the room to flicker faintly.

In the dim light, Bert looked at the heavy, copper-inlaid oak table in front of him and the figure seated behind it. He reached out and placed the broken blade, coated in a strange, rusted copper plating, onto the desk littered with files, quills, and ink bottles.

The figure in military dress behind the desk reached out and picked up the small blade. The icy temperature of the rusted copper made his movements pause briefly. With his back to the window and the scarlet-backed royal crest Sword Crown Iron Crown Tapestry hanging on either side, his gaze shot out from the shadows, carefully scrutinizing the object.

"Report," he said from the shadows of the Sword Crown Iron Crown Tapestry.

"We heard sounds of a struggle in the early hours of the morning and immediately led a team over," Bert replied. "Upon arrival, we found six corpses in the wheat field: one higher Demon Race member and five Demonized. All had brown skin and amber eyes, suspected to be from the Supar Empire.

"We discovered fresh wheel tracks and campfire ashes at the scene. It seemed someone had been camped out, but they left about two or three minutes before we arrived, leaving behind the fresh wheel tracks. We attempted to pursue, but the tracks soon merged into the main road, mixing with the tracks of hundreds of other merchant cargo carriages, making it impossible to continue tracking.

"We questioned the nearby farmers. They claimed to have heard shouts in the night containing two key words: ’Ronov’ and ’Ghost Knight’.

"This blade fragment was picked up among the wreckage at the combat site. It comes from the broken Wheel blade of a harvesting vehicle. The vehicle was destroyed and suspected to have been used as a weapon. However, the other Wheel blades did not have copper plating; they only bore a pale white heating mark on the steel surface. We suspect they once did, but it was cleverly stripped and retrieved."

The figure behind the desk remained silent. The CLANG, CLANG of metal strikes continued to echo outside the window.

"Your conclusion?" he asked.

Bert took a deep breath.

"The Supar Empire dispatched higher Demon Race spies near the Imperial Foundry in an attempt to gather intelligence or sabotage the forging of Blood Steel Weapons. Meanwhile, an ancient heroic spirit of the Cedar Knight from the Ronov Clan manifested as a Ghost Knight, arriving here to loyally protect the Empire once again."

"?" The figure behind the desk fell silent.

Bert also remained silent.

The Centurion officer behind the desk slowly stood up, moved behind Bert, and raised his heavy military boot, delivering a vicious kick to Bert’s backside that sent him stumbling forward.

"Do you want to rethink what you’re saying, you dumbass?" the Centurion cursed. "Have you been reading too many Knight novels, Bert?"

He raised his boot and delivered another heavy kick, adding another shoe print to the seat of Bert’s cavalry coat.

"Damn it, what kind of Professional Soldier are you? It’s bad enough that you space out and daydream all day long, but now you’re pulling this Knight novel plotline and presenting it as a work report?"