Chapter 247: The Marquis's Attitude

Rulans had already prepared to sleep, when he never expected such a momentous event to unfold in the dead of night.

Leaning against the headboard, he held the plea for aid sent by Corien, his expression as still as a deep, unrippled well—as if he had seen it all before.

The letter was undoubtedly genuine; this knight commander wrote several such appeals each year, and Rulans had long recognized his handwriting. The markings on the messenger bird further confirmed its authenticity—no forgery could mimic them.

“Hmm.”

He sighed, turning to Viggins, seated in the chair beside him. “What are your plans?”

Viggins laid out his thoughts.

“I intend to issue war decrees to other nobles, summoning forces to reinforce Stonekeep and retake Crimson Mountain Town.”

Viggins spoke with ambition: “If the opportunity arises, we might even reclaim Cassiel Town—and push further south!”

“Oh, Father,”

he glanced at Ronin, adding, “I won’t be able to lead from the front this time, so I plan to appoint Ronin as our House of Wushan’s representative and commander of this campaign.”

At those words, Rulans’s brow twitched, barely perceptible, then his gaze drifted to Toru and Kabir in the room.

“What do you two think?”

They exchanged glances; Kabir spoke first.

“My Lord, the sudden raid by the Polant Bandits and their destruction of the Fifth Knightly Order is suspicious. I recommend writing immediately to Corien, demanding a full account of the battle—only then can we formulate an appropriate response.”

He paused, then continued: “But regardless, the Wushan Domain must teach these enemies a lesson they will never forget.”

Toru nodded in agreement.

“My Lord, I share Kabir’s view. If we do not punish the Polant Bandits now, they will continue their northward expansion.”

Rulans gave a slight nod.

This war could only be avoided if Wushan Castle voluntarily signed a truce with the Polant Bandits and abandoned Crimson Mountain Town.

But what would the lesser lords think of Wushan Castle if it surrendered without a fight?

If it begged peace from a band of thieves—common, dishonorable scum—what dignity would remain?

This war was unavoidable.

“Write to Corien at once,” Rulans ordered. “Demand a full account of the battle—and whether the enemy intends further incursions into Stonekeep.”

“The rest,” he added, waving a hand, “follow Viggins’s plan.”

He dismissed them with a gesture. “Ronin, stay.”

Viggins, Kabir, and the others rose and left the chamber, casting silent, curious glances at Ronin as they went—wondering what the Marquis would say to him.

Outside the room, Viggins began issuing orders.

First, he instructed the liaison officer, Carolina, to draft a letter and send it by messenger bird that very night to Stonekeep, inquiring after the current situation.

Meanwhile, he ordered Toru to detach a portion of the First Knightly Company to reinforce Corien immediately, lest the half-decimated force collapse under pressure.

Beyond that, since war had been decided, the supplies previously sent to Crimson Mountain Town were insufficient. The steward and treasurer must swiftly coordinate manpower to prepare additional provisions.

Viggins himself joined Kabir to draft the war decree.

Over the years, though Viggins had proven incompetent on the battlefield, his ability to mobilize resources before war had been commendable.

Watching the retreating figures of the busy courtiers, Bretton clenched his fists. If only his strength were greater—he, too, could have taken the field.

“Mother… will Ronin agree to go to war?”

Diane turned back toward Rulans’s chamber. “Perhaps…”

She knew only that Rulans held Ronin in high regard—if he feared for the young man’s safety, he might well refuse to send him.

Inside the chamber, only Rulans and Ronin remained.

“Viggins has proposed you represent House Wushan as commander of this campaign. What do you think?”

Ronin had been pondering this very question.

Viggins’s war decree would be answered by nearly every noble of Wushan Domain—unless they had a valid excuse. Even if they sent no knights or soldiers, they would contribute coin, grain, or supplies.

As a viscount of the northern Wushan lands, Ronin fell squarely within this obligation.

“Though the Northern Wushan lands are still in ruins, as a member of House Wushan, I will do my part.”

Ronin said, “But the role of commander requires serious consideration. I’ve never fought on a battlefield. I lack experience—and if I mislead the troops, I may bring disaster upon them.”

Rulans nodded.

Though commanding the allied forces brought no direct monetary reward, it carried immense prestige.

Simply by winning a battle, one gained considerable renown.

The larger the campaign, the greater the glory.

And renown was a precious thing—especially for a young lord like Ronin, whose domain was still in its infancy. A strong reputation would attract talent and strengthen cohesion.

“It pleases me that you recognize your limitations—and are not blinded by the lure of power.”

Rulans recalled when he had appointed Viggins to lead the campaign against the rebellious factions within the domain. Viggins, equally inexperienced, had accepted without hesitation.

The campaign had been fraught with missteps—allowing the rebels to flee into the northern woods, where they later formed the Wilder Tribes.

“In truth, I do not wish you to take part in this battle. Or if you must, let it be as a supply officer, far from the front.”

Perhaps he was growing old. Perhaps he could not help but see Ronin as a reflection of his eldest son.

Gremes—the son he had once placed all his hopes upon—had died on the battlefield. He did not wish Ronin to meet the same fate.

Rulans said, “The battlefield is perilous. And the Polant Bandits are a complex force—you must tread with caution.”

Ronin fixated on those words: “complex force.”

He had long suspected the true nature of these so-called bandits and brotherhoods. How could the very factions Wushan had crushed rise again so swiftly?

“Grandfather… you suspect someone is backing the Polant Bandits?”

Ronin asked outright: “Is it the Earl of Moonvale?”

Rulans was startled—he had not expected Ronin to reach such a conclusion. His pride swelled.

“You are far more perceptive than your father. He clashed with the Polant Bandits several times—and never once suspected this.”

His tone shifted.

“But this is only speculation. I have no concrete proof.”

Such matters, of course, must be handled in secrecy.

Openly supporting bandits to invade other noble lands violated royal law. If Wushan Castle uncovered evidence and brought it to the capital, even if Hesus were the King’s own brother, he would face accountability and punishment.

“Then… is the Black Gold Brotherhood being propped up by Vera?”

Rulans fell silent for a long while before answering slowly:

“Perhaps.”

It seemed Rulans understood the true nature of both factions well enough.

But he was old now—too weary to act.

Though the southeastern and southwestern borders churned with unrest, the bulk of Wushan Domain remained peaceful. And for Rulans, that was enough.

Let the two frontiers become training grounds—let them play their games.

Yet he wondered: was this bold assault by the Polant Bandits merely about seizing Crimson Mountain Town—or did they harbor grander designs?

Rulans set aside his thoughts.

“If you do not wish to go to the front, I will assign you to logistics. But if you seek to be baptized in the fire of war, then as the representative of House Wushan, you shall be commander. I will assign officers to aid you.”

Between mobilization and departure, there is still time—go back and think carefully.

Though a worthy heir to the family must be forged in the crucible of war, Rulans was in no hurry.

To him, Chi Shan Town could be lost; even the Great Stone Domain could be abandoned, so long as most of Wu Shan Domain remained at peace.

Now, both Luo Ning and Bretton possessed extraordinary potential, especially Luo Ning—thoughtful, meticulous, and powerful.

If Wu Shan Family were given time, once they matured, these lost territories would surely be reclaimed.

Yet in the end, Rulans left the final choice to Luo Ning—to let him choose the path he wished to walk.

“I will think on it seriously,” Luo Ning said, rising to his feet and leaving the bedroom.” (End of Chapter)