Chapter 194 - 137 : Year 31 - 36 Duke Vendettit (1)

Chapter 194: Chapter 137 : Year 31 - 36 Duke Vendettit (1)

Far to the east of House Veymont’s lands, deep within the Kingdom of Enwitra, stood Vandorath, the seat of Duke Vendettit. It was a city on a different scale from Veymont, with roughly twice its built-up area, a far greater volume of trade, and a military presence that reminded every visitor whose authority protected the surrounding duchy.

The difference was apparent long before anyone reached its gates.

The outer wall rose approximately twelve metres above the ground, its stonework broad enough at the base to withstand a sustained assault. Towers stood at intervals along its length, and the guards posted on them could see the surrounding roads well before approaching any enemy could even reach the gates. The wall extended for roughly fifteen kilometres around the city, enclosing busy streets, market districts, noble estates, barracks, workshops, and the large compounds of well kno merchants families whose influence reached across the duchy.

The main gates were built to handle more than the ordinary passage of carts and pedestrians. Heavy wooden doors reinforced with iron stood beneath stone gatehouses, while raised platforms and narrow openings gave defenders clear views of anyone approaching. Soldiers checked unfamiliar travellers, inspected suspicious cargo, and directed merchant caravans into designated areas when the traffic became too heavy. Behind them, additional guards remained ready to reinforce the entrance if trouble arose.

There was little idle movement among the men stationed there. Their armour was maintained, their weapons kept within reach, and their patrols followed established routes. Even the ordinary city guards were Skin Tempering martial artist, giving them bodies better prepared for the demands of their duties than those of common soldiers in a less developed territory. Squad captains and senior commanders were generally Blood Tempering martial artists, while stronger practitioners could be found among the castle guards, important noble households, and the city’s martial establishments.

A Force Tempering martial artist was still uncommon, even here. Those who reached that stage possessed strength far beyond that of ordinary soldiers, and their presence could influence weather a family or business can prosper and how long it stays that way.

The city is home to several noble families with long martial histories and traditions, each maintaining training grounds and private retainers, and some of their strongest members occasionally appeared in the public districts.

A passerby could not walk through Vandorath and expect to see a master of the highest realm at every corner, but neither would the sight of a martial artist displaying the results of his training cause the same surprise it might in a smaller noble city.

Martial arts seems to be woven into the very life of the city. Young men trained with wooden weapons in courtyards, merchants employed martial artists to guard valuable consignments, and noble households maintained their own instructors and practice grounds.

The city’s larger barracks housed regular soldiers alongside martial artists, with separate spaces for weapon drills, endurance exercises, and the training of promising recruits. The sound of practice carried from some courtyards almost every morning, mingling with the calls of vendors and the rumble of loaded carts.

Trade was just as visible. Shops sold iron fittings, fine cloth, medicinal herbs, weapons, saddles, and tools for both ordinary craftsmen and martial practitioners. Merchant caravans arrived from distant territories, bringing goods that were scarce in smaller towns. Inns filled with travellers, while brokers and caravan leaders negotiated prices in busy market squares. Streets near the noble estates were cleaner and better maintained than those farther from the main roads, and the buildings grew larger as one approached the districts occupied by the most powerful families.

Vandorath did not possess this prosperity merely because it was the ducal seat, in a way it is the economic heart of the dukedom. Its position allowed it to draw wealth from across the territory, while the Duke’s authority provided the military strength needed to protect important routes and keep lesser nobles within the established order.

The families beneath him retained considerable freedom in managing their own lands, but they were expected to meet their obligations and respect the authority that stood above them.

At the heart of this city rose Duke Vendettit’s castle.

Its outer walls enclosed more than the residence of a noble family. They protected the ducal household, its administrative offices, its armories, its training grounds, and the men who served as the Duke’s personal guard. Towers overlooked the entrances, and broad courtyards allowed soldiers and mounted calvaries to gather without obstructing the movement of officials and servants.

The castle’s main buildings rose above the surrounding streets, their stone facades, tall roofs, and fortified entrances giving them a scale that made the lesser estates beyond the walls seem modest by comparison.

Banners bearing the ducal crest hung from the towers and walls. Each displayed a clenched golden fist wreathed in crimson flames against an ivory-white field, bordered in dark gold. The design was simple enough to be recognised from a distance, yet its meaning was unmistakable.

House Vendettit had built its position on martial strength and generations of service to the kingdom, and its emblem appeared wherever that authority needed to be seen.

Within the castle, servants and officials moved through long corridors lined with stone pillars and wooden doors. Guards stood at the major entrances, and messengers passed between offices carrying reports, sealed letters, and instructions for the household’s officials. The castle had the steady rhythm of a place responsible for the affairs of a large territory. Even when its lord was not receiving visitors, work continued in the rooms surrounding his private quarters.

At the uppermost level of the main residence lay the Duke’s study.

The great doors opened into a chamber that looked almost like a library and a court room merged together. Shelves rose along both sides, extending nearly to the high ceiling and crowded with books, bound records, maps, and rolled documents. Wooden ladders ran along the shelves so that clerks could reach the highest rows, and narrow galleries gave access to the books stored above the lower levels. Two ivory banners bearing the golden fist and crimson flames of House Vendettit hung among the shelves, one on each side of the chamber.

At the far end, directly opposite the entrance, the floor rose into a broad stone platform. A short flight of steps led to it from the centre of the room. The Duke’s heavy desk and carved chair stood upon the raised platform, placing him several feet above anyone who entered and approached him from the main floor.

Tall windows stretched behind his chair, their coloured glass forming patterns around clearer central panes. Through them, the city could be seen in the distance: rooftops clustered along broad streets, the tops of market halls and noble compounds, and the outer walls running across the horizon. The view offered a reminder of the territory entrusted to the Duke, but it did not soften the room’s imposing appearance. Someone summoned here would have to cross the broad floor, pass between towering shelves, and climb the steps before standing beside the desk. Until then, the Duke would be looking down at them from his raised seat.

The man occupying that seat was well into his eighties.

Duke Vendettit had a deeply lined face, thick grey eyebrows, and a full beard that covered much of his lower jaw. His hair, once dark, had turned entirely grey. Age had loosened the skin around his eyes and marked his forehead, and the years had left their signs even upon a man whose martial training had preserved much of his strength.

Yet his eyes remained startlingly clear. When he looked up from a document, there was a sharpness in his gaze that made people reconsider careless words before speaking them. Beneath the loose folds of his dark robe, his frame remained broad and powerful. He sat with little unnecessary movement, his long fingers holding a feather pen as he worked through the papers spread across the desk.

The Duke was one of the strongest Force Tempering martial artists still living in the kingdom, a man whose name carried weight among both nobles and soldiers. He had survived battles that had claimed men far younger than himself, and his mastery had reached the point where he could project his martial force roughly ten metres beyond his body. Within that range, an ordinary fighter would find it nearly impossible to approach him safely. A battlefield that placed him among opposing ranks would become a dangerous place for anyone unable to withstand the force he could release.

His age had not erased that power. If anything, the knowledge of what lay beneath his quiet appearance made his stillness more unsettling. He did not need to raise his voice or remind those around him of his rank. The men who served him had seen enough of his strength to understand what would happen if he chose to use it.

For the moment, however, he was occupied with ink, parchment, and a growing pile of documents that needed his attention.

A knock sounded at the study doors.

The Duke continued writing.

"Your Grace," came the voice of a guard from outside. "The Second Lord requests an audience."

The pen paused briefly above the parchment.

"Let him in."