Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 408 - 407: Darkness

The transmission of information is exceptionally difficult.

When the great fire of Longwind Fortress broke out, the two dukes in the royal capital were still focused on maintaining order there. As the Duke of the East and Prince Edmund gathered their forces to attack the border lands of the Plains of the Holy Spirits, the leaders of St. Soniel received no news at all. It was only when the gryphon messenger, who broke through from the border risking life and limb, flew into the royal capital that the massive change affecting the future of the kingdoms truly presented itself before the leaders in Silver Castle—but even at this moment, they were unaware that the southern borders were simultaneously undergoing a change that would impact the future of the kingdoms even more.

However, the distant southern borders and the royal capital were not without connections—in the city of St. Soniel, just outside Silver Castle, agents from the Cecil Clan lay dormant.

At 4 Crown Street, within the Cecil Family Mansion that had become the gathering place for the royal capital’s Mage and scholar communities, a scholar wearing a woolen soft hat politely stood up, bowed to the Mage apprentice before him, and then left the room under the guidance of an Attendant. The "witch" Giply watched as the registered Mage from the royal capital rose to leave, and she sighed slightly, rising to stretch her somewhat stiff shoulders.

Sitting in such a spacious and bright room, dressed in exquisitely tailored expensive attire, and meeting the royal capital’s scholars as the Duke’s agent, Giply found this level of dignified work something she could never have imagined. But only after truly sitting in this position did she realize that the seemingly glamorous work was exceptionally difficult. Dealing with the knowledgeable and experienced intelligent minds of the royal capital was a test in itself, and she also had to collect and transmit intelligence as an agent for the Intelligence Agency during this process. The difficulties were no less than when she once charmed and deceived adventurers on the street for money.

The door opened, and "Quick Leg" Pierce, dressed in Knight’s everyday wear, walked in. Upon seeing that Giply was alone in the room, this young man nodded: "Did the last person registered leave?"

"Yes, the last one for today," Giply said while massaging her shoulder, "There were even more people than yesterday..."

"The situation in the royal capital is becoming tense. Soldiers and Knights from the castle are checking each household for suspicious persons. Just a few days ago, there was even a fire in the wealthy district, and public sentiment is disturbed," Pierce said, finding a place to sit by the table, discussing the recent changes in the city. "Thanks to this, our recruitment has become easier—Duke Cecil’s hiring certification allows them to legally leave the city during this time."

"Tomorrow or the day after, we should have a hundred people gathered. We can send over another group," Giply said, glancing at the registration book on the table and then looking up at her companion. "Also, orders from the homeland have arrived, instructing us to cease all public recruitment activities after sending over the last batch, and to only maintain contact with the royal capital Mage community in the shadows, collecting intelligence and awaiting orders."

Pierce briefly wondered how the leader far in the south knew about the changes in the royal capital—since this part of the intelligence had yet to be sent out. However, his training in the Intelligence Agency kept him from questioning the orders, and he simply nodded: "Understood. Tomorrow I will cancel the assignments at each association."

"It’s indeed time to cease public activities..." Giply softly sighed, "The city’s situation is deteriorating, rebels are hiding within the royal capital, and those in Silver Castle will likely soon order a lockdown of St. Soniel. We rely on the Duke’s protection for free movement, but for now, it’s better not to further challenge Silver Castle’s sensitive nerves..."

"Who knows what the future holds," Pierce couldn’t help but lament, for the first time contemplating matters that should not have intersected with his life as someone from the slums. "This country is truly getting more chaotic..."

"The current chaos is only temporary, the Duke will eventually bring prosperity and order to this country," Giply said, raising her eyelids to look at Pierce. "This prosperity and order will transcend the product of this era, and perhaps we will witness it in our lifetime."

"That sounds like something Mr. Santis once lamented," Pierce smiled, "Though it seems overly optimistic, I find it to be sensible."

...

If what one sees in Cecil’s lands is prosperity and order, then what one sees in places ravaged by the noble’s army is nothing but decline and chaos.

Southwest of the Carol territory, in the Konsko Area, a small village was nearly razed to the ground. On the edge of the village ruins, a small armed group was passing by.

This group was disciplined, a black and red banner waved above them, bearing the emblem of the Cecil Clan. Half of them were Cecil Clan warriors in bright armor, carrying combat field packs, and the other half were non-combat personnel wearing light armor and cloaks, appearing not much like Soldiers. The cloaks bore a red triangle symbol, which in Anzu tradition has always been the mark of professions like medics and Pharmacists.

Rhett Aiviken walked among them, the only person in full heavy armor yet identified as a medic—the medic’s mark was stamped on his breastplate, making the conspicuous red triangle symbol remarkably eye-catching within the group.

Of course, more striking than the red emblem was his stature, taller than even the strongest Soldier.

At this moment, this strong and tall Priest and battlefield medic looked at the ruins in front of him and, after a few seconds of silence, couldn’t help but let out a sigh.

Every building in sight had collapsed and been destroyed. The village’s grain storage had been plundered and then set on fire, the wells filled in, cattle and sheep slaughtered by the hungry aristocratic Soldiers, those that couldn’t be taken were burned alongside the granaries and houses, and in some places, Wright could still see some disturbing dark red bloodstains.

This village was destroyed, ruined by war, but it was not the so-called ’enemy’—the Cecil Clan that did it. It was the knights of the Konsko Area and the Allied Army of nobles allied with Viscount Konsko—nominally this village’s protectors and lords.

The retreating Allied Army from the front lines at Broken Stone Ridge destroyed this place—just as they destroyed other places along their retreat.

Nobility is synonymous with plunder, especially during wartime, but Wright was still shocked by what he saw and heard. He never imagined that the looting and destruction executed by the retreating Allied Army would be more appalling than the devastation caused during their advance, so shocking that he couldn’t help but wonder whether those retreating aristocratic Soldiers were human or a swarm of flesh-stripping termites.

Standing by Wright’s side was an old veteran from Cecil, a small patrol commander in the army, well accustomed to the battlefield and familiar with the ways of traditional noble armies. He shook his head, explaining to Wright, "When advancing, they still had some order—at least at that time they still posed as protectors of the land and residents. They would heavily levy food and property while passing through villages and towns, but at least they wouldn’t destroy them. But once in retreat, they become wolves... Unlike the Cecil’s Army, those noble Soldiers never regarded ’plunder’ as a crime, nor would they be whipped for taking a few loaves of bread from the common folk. They’re willing to do anything to fill their stomachs, and to prevent food and houses from falling into the hands of their pursuers, they burn places just as soon as they arrive..."

"Do they not even spare their own land?" Wright couldn’t help but interrupt the old Soldier. "Those fleeing nobles... Would they really order the destruction of their villages?"

"Why wouldn’t they?" The veteran sighed, "After all, they’ve lost. According to the rules of noble warfare, the victors are always entitled to some plundering—they think that even if they don’t take all the village’s food and burn the houses, the pursuers would do the same. Better they do it themselves, and they could still grab back some of the food... They don’t see it as a loss."

"..."

Wright remained silent, overwhelmed by the darkness and evil of war that left him at a loss for words—he came from the relatively affluent and stable Plains of the Holy Spirits. Even though he had witnessed some despicable acts by savage nobles during his missionary work, he had never seen anything on the scale of an actual war like this before. The actions of the nobles during their retreat far exceeded his expectations.

But he wasn’t naïve—despite many people saying he was naïve for adhering to the classical virtues of the Holy Light, he knew he was not. He was shocked by the cruel darkness of war, but he didn’t naïvely think this war shouldn’t have happened, nor did he believe that the victory of the Cecil Clan was the cause of these tragedies.

He knew the greed of humans, the greed of nobles. After reading analyses and comments in newspapers, he knew this war was inevitable, and no matter the outcome, those greedy and brutal nobles and their armies would do similar things—plunder and destruction would always happen, the only difference being where they would occur.

Moreover, he knew Cecil’s Army was doing its best to prevent the spread of this destruction—during the main forces’ pursuit, they have been trying to drive the enemy towards wastelands and, if approaching towns, they would attempt to catch up and fiercely strike before they could cause devastation, after all, protecting those towns and villages also meant protecting the future assets of Cecil.

But no matter how hard you try, the battlefield is always full of variables, full of the uncontrollable.

So Wright could only watch silently, then bow his head and quietly pray for those who had encountered disaster.

The Lord of Holy Light would not respond to his prayers, but he didn’t expect anything to answer his prayers.

The commander glanced at the Priest-born battlefield medic without disturbing the latter’s prayer and began assigning tasks to the Soldiers: "You two, check the vicinity for any households and inquire if there are any survivors. Try to find them. You, and you three, search for any places where bodies might have been abandoned nearby, gather the bodies together and burn them. The rest of you, come with me, and see if there is anything left that can be used."