Chapter 401: Taking the Initiative to Attack

Black Mamba Fortress.

"Barryton, how did things suddenly come to this?"

Viscount Tyne Purplethunder wore an expression of profound grief as he questioned his son-in-law.

"Your sister is still Wiggins's wife. Your nephew remains the heir of Blackmount Keep. Even if we desire greater dominion—even to rule Urshan from the shadows—there were simpler ways than declaring war on Blackmount!"

Barryton’s gaze remained cold. "Lord Tyne, are you unaware that old Rulans has fully recovered? Wait for him to die, then wait for Wiggins to die, then let my nephew inherit the marquisate—how many decades would that take?"

"Even if you win, does Urshan truly become yours?"

Tyne shook his head bitterly. He knew no words could change what had already begun.

Since the assassination of Miloslav, the House of Hyde had burned every bridge behind them—and with it, all the nobles who clung to their shadow.

"Tyne, spare me your lectures," sneered Osen with a hollow laugh, showing no respect to his own kin. "As founder of the Skull Society, you sent assassins after Rulans’s beloved grandson, Rowan. After such a crime, do you still dream Blackmount will grant you mercy alone?"

He clenched his fist. "All you can do now is lead your soldiers and the other lords into battle for me. Only then might you glimpse survival."

His voice dropped low, fierce. "Let me be clear—I am strong now."

Tyne inhaled deeply, suppressing his resentment. "Very well, Osen. I will support you. And pray your path is the right one."

This time, the Duchy of Vira had not dispatched the Blackgold Brotherhood to aid them—to divide Blackmount’s forces. Without external allies, a mere county stood no chance against both Blackmount and the Silvah Magitech Guild.

Osen’s arrogance left Tyne speechless. Where lay their hope of victory?

In those rag-clad militiamen outside the fortress?

In truth, Barryton had already sent word to Duke Andrei. But the duke, knowing the conflict stemmed from Miloslav’s murder and aware that the Crown had sent Broder, deputy commander of the Gryphon Knights, to assist, chose discretion over confrontation. Unwilling to provoke the Silvah Magitech Guild or the royal court, he refrained from sending the Brotherhood to war.

Yet he was not idle. At least, he had reinforced his garrison at Blackpine Mountain, driving a thorn deep into Urshan soil.

"My decisions are flawless," Osen said with a chilling smile. "Chaos shall spread across Urshan! If Rulans hesitates even now, then we shall seize the initiative!"

He rose to his feet. "Barryton, take your men and Lord Tyne—launch a surprise assault on Radiant City!"

Tyne stiffened. Amidst this crisis, Osen still sought to divide their forces? To strike first?

Before he could protest, Barryton accepted eagerly.

"As you command. Soon, fear and death shall flood Radiant City!"

"Go!" Osen’s lips curled upward, as if victory already bowed before him.

In truth, ever since following Morphester, they had slowly lost themselves.

Ruling Urshan, strengthening House Hyde—those were dreams of the past. Now, their sole purpose was to fulfill Morphester’s design: bring maximum suffering and chaos upon Urshan’s nobility.

...

Meanwhile, as Rowan flew over Blackmount Town, he directed Karlos to fly to Shore City and summon Rudar, leaving command there temporarily to McKenn.

He himself, wings of wind unfurled, descended upon Baron Melonika’s castle.

"A griffin?"

Rowan landed, spotting the great beast nearby. The royal envoy had finally arrived.

He entered the hall to find Broder congratulating Rulans on his recovery. Besides them stood Miloslav, Melonika, and an elderly man with silver hair.

"Ha! Rowan has returned," Rulans greeted warmly, smiling as he introduced.

"You know Broder. This is Lord Dawn Box—a vice-director of the Silvah Magitech Guild, head of its Goldfeather City branch, and like Miloslav, a mighty archmage!"

Rowan exchanged courteous greetings.

Dawn spoke gently, "Berola sent me to help—not only out of anger over Miloslav’s assassination, but because of his friendship with you, Rowan."

Though he said so, Dawn himself was puzzled.

What bond could exist between Rowan and Berola?

One barely twenty, the other over a hundred—how could they possibly know each other?

Rulans also looked surprised. Clearly, his grandson had lived through events unknown to him.

Rowan shook Dawn’s hand. "After this matter, please convey my regards to Master Berola."

Broder then added, "Rowan, His Majesty has a message—for you and the Marquis alike. Regardless of how matters with Black Mamba unfold, you must appear in Goldfeather City by June fourteenth."

He turned to Rulans. "And it would be best, of course, if you accompanied him."

Rulans stroked his white beard, understanding—the king feared delayed marriage negotiations would tarnish the Crown’s honor.

"Fear not. Even if I cannot go, Rowan will go with you."

"Excellent."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Rowan interjected.

"Gentlemen, I took a moment to scout Black Mamba Fortress—and discovered something critical. This war just became far more difficult."

Hmm?

His final words instantly seized their attention.

With three Meteor Knights—Rulans, Melonika, and Broder—and two archmages, Miloslav and Dawn, Black Mamba should stand no chance.

"What could possibly make this harder?" Dawn asked, frowning. "Has Osen gained new powerful allies?"

Then Rowan recounted all he had seen within Black Mamba—the unnatural resilience of the Witch-Soul Clan, their ability to transform commoners into lifeless "puppets."

Silence fell upon the room.

The idea that these beings could not truly die, that they twisted innocents into hollow shells—it shattered everything they knew.

Even the learned archmages, Dawn and Miloslav, furrowed their brows. They had never heard of such a race.

"If what you say is true," Dawn said grimly, "then the Witch-Soul Clan are servants of demons. Should this corruption spread, the consequences would be catastrophic."

Broder nodded. "I’ll send my gryphon knights to verify at once."

He turned to Rulans. "If confirmed, my lord—we must act swiftly."

"Witch-Souls..." Rulans whispered the name, rage and bitterness rising like a tide.

For years, he had suffered under the torment of witch-soul energy. Now, not only did such a clan exist, but they had laid hands upon thousands of innocent civilians. Such cruelty ignited fury in his heart.

He trusted Rowan’s intelligence implicitly. Whether Broder investigated or not, the war must begin soon.

"We need not wait for distant noble reinforcements. Melonika—go now. Summon the captain and the knights. Prepare to march tomorrow."

Melonika bowed solemnly. "Yes, my lord."

The gryphon knights moved swiftly. By sunset, they returned with news.

There were no people outside Black Python Fortress as Ronin had described, but they spotted a large force moving southeast toward Wushan Town, while another troop advanced from the north across the plain.

"Olsen has actually launched an offensive—the northern force..."

Rulans turned to look at the map behind him, narrowing his eyes. "He intends to raid Splendor City." (End of Chapter)