Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio
Above the Red River Plains, the soldiers of Holy Seville stood in the setting sun, mourning the dead. Many soldiers were beating their shields with their long swords, as if trying to summon the souls of the departed.
A large number of clergy from the Faith of the Sun and their Temple Knights were kneeling on the ground. They kissed the sigil on their necks as they prayed in the direction of the sun. They were praying for the forgiveness of the gods, urgently hoping for a response from the divine.
“Why did they do this?” Jorkins was wearing the uniform of a Holy Seville soldier, a sleeveless chain armor. He had a shield on his back and a long sword at his waist.
As the initiator of the original rebellion, he had garnered considerable respect within the rebel army. But, since the beginning of the rebellion, he knew that they would continue to be pressured by the Crete Empire, so he had negotiated with the other leaders to lead a small number of his own followers away in the dead of the night.
They had snuck through the border of Crete to ask for help from the Holy Seville Empire. Then, after Holy Seville began sending troops, he had also volunteered to join them, thus becoming a captain. He then led 10 men and followed the mighty army back to the border.
Jorkins had hoped to meet his hundreds of thousands of compatriots back in Crete, but they had all been killed, dying at the hands of the Cretan nobility. Jorkins recalled each painfully familiar face, while he also thought of his father and younger brother, and of his mother and sister, who were still missing.
The memories washed over him like waves, filling Jorkins’ face with tears. His eyes were bloodshot, too.
“I will never forgive them. I want them to pay!” Jorkins slashed his arm with his long sword, then raised his bloody arm into the air with fury. “This debt must be paid with blood!”
The anger within the army was ignited by his act, sending everyone into a fit of roars and battle howls. Each of them raised their weapons and roared in unison, “An eye for an eye!”
All of the Holy Knights and the nobles were huddled in the command center. All of them looked at Verthandi with red-rimmed eyes, hoping for her immediate command to dispatch the troops to hold the Crete Empire accountable for their heinous crimes.
“Your Majesty, send troops!”
“Do they think we are the same as we were decades ago? This time, they shall pay the price for the decades of humiliation that they have caused us!”
“We can’t tolerate any further disgrace. They murdered hundreds of thousands of orcs right in front of our eyes. This is a clear declaration of war. They can only repay us in blood!”
At this time, a loud roar was heard from outside the tent. Everyone was immediately alarmed and stopped shouting. They walked outside and saw the excitement of the crowd.
As Verthandi, whose brows were already knit in consternation, heard the fury of thousands of her people, she could no longer suppress her own wrath. She drew the Sword of the King and pointed it in the direction of the Crete Empire.
Her golden pony tail was swaying and her golden eyes burned with anger. She then yelled, “We’re moving out. They shall repay us in blood!”
All of the Holy Knights and the nobles howled in approval. The anger of hundreds of thousands of people resounded through the heavens. It seemed to set the sky itself on fire.
All of the soldiers in the camp packed their bags and arranged themselves into neat formations. They were divided into clear combat units under the control of their respective officers and lords, awaiting for the command of their emperor.
Verthandi, riding atop a white horse, led the Holy Knights to the very front of the army. All of the soldiers and knights looked at their emperor in awe.
As the Emperor had rescued the orcs from war and disaster, they had no doubt that she would lead them to a future of peace and prosperity. As such, they would always follow her, even to the ends of the earth.
It was clear that all of the soldiers had unconditional trust and admiration for Verthandi. It was as if the blonde figure in front of them was their faith and their everything!
Verthandi held the Sword of the King high as she passed her men. The streamer on its hilt fluttered in the breeze. Wherever she passed, cheers resounded like thunder.
“Long live the King!”
“Long live the King!”
“Long live the King!”
The cheers continued all the way to the horizon, as the passion of the men had been ignited. The only thing in their eyes was the figure before them. The world seemed so small and so insignificant beneath her rule.
“We will fight for justice! We will judge their sins!” Verthandi only said these two short sentences, yet all of her men seemed to take them as profound wisdom. Their eyes glistened with unabashed tears and they trembled with excitement.
After receiving Verthandi’s orders, the army immediately launched into action. The troops crossed the Red River Plains and broke into the Crete Empire.
Smoke and war swept over the earth. Once again, the millenium of conflict between the orcs and humanity had resumed.
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In the capital of Crete, thousands of people were gathered around the palace. Many soldiers had been recruited, and the knights were spread across the square in front of the palace.
Even more civilians were standing off in the distance. They watched as Duke Tembor signed the war mobilization order. Afterwards, Emperor Zolman II also signed the order with an ashen face. He was clearly under extreme pressure.
At this point, this war was absolutely inevitable. The ordinary people of Crete were divided into two camps. One was extremely worried about the upcoming war, while the other thought that the orcs were complete jokes before the might of Crete.
The nobles and soldiers of the dominant war faction were still soaked in the might and glory of their bygone days. They cheered impatiently after the order was signed.
Duke Tembor raised the war mobilization order high in the air, the ink on the gilded paper still wet. He stood at the front of the stage, soaking in the cheers of the crowd.
The soldiers longed for the glory, titles, and riches that they had been promised. They knew that this war was their only way to obtain those things.
Prime Minister Tembor waved the document under the fluttering flag of the red bull of Crete, as he shouted, “This war is righteous, so we will win the ultimate victory! We will show those barbarians that we are the real masters of this land!”
Tembor’s passionate speech inflamed the soldiers to cheer again. They screamed to the rhythm of Tembor’s swaying arms.
“Victory!”
“Victory!”
