Chapter Eleven: Hidden Hands (Part 1)

The usually calm Grand Duke paced back and forth in the hall like an enraged lion, smashing three expensive and delicate crystal cups on the ground in one go. Such destruction of artifacts worth six thousand gold shields pained everyone present, yet no one dared to intervene.

“Poninsky, look at the mess you’ve made! Even now, you can’t explain who’s behind these riots in your own territory. You know nothing, yet you still have the audacity to come to me and complain. There’s no need for further explanations. I’ve already sent a notice to the Imperial Court to revoke your noble status. Soon, you’ll receive an official letter from the Royal Court. If you have any objections, you can appeal to the Court. Now, you may leave!” Philip was furious—his mood could not be worse. 5,500 soldiers, along with three precious magi and four sorcerers, hadn’t managed to bring back a single soldier to the north bank of the Nysa River. If it weren’t for his quick reaction in sending 3,000 soldiers training on the Bosson Plain to Fortress Bruce urgently, those damned half-orc mobs might have crossed the Nysa River and torn to pieces the poor 500 soldiers in Fortress Bruce.

These words from Grand Duke Philip shocked everyone in the hall. Who was Count Poninsky? He was one of the Grand Duke’s most trusted allies. Although the Leon region didn’t contribute much in terms of tributes to the Homer region, those who knew the truth understood that given Leon’s fertility, the Grand Duke would never allow such a clownish figure to become its lord. After all, it was an hereditary fiefdom that could be passed down through generations. With such fertile land and hundreds of thousands of people, not just anyone could become its lord.

“Grand Duke, you can’t do this!” Poninsky, pale with shock, stared in terror at the red-faced Grand Duke. “Please send another army to Leon. Those damned mobs only succeeded by luck. As long as you send troops there, they’ll surely win immediately!”

Seeing Poyninsky, who was speaking carelessly, staring at him in despair, Philip grew even more annoyed. This man, who was involved in all kinds of vices, had indeed made significant contributions to him, but under these circumstances—when the kingdom was already trying hard to find faults with him—creating such a huge problem meant someone of considerable weight had to take responsibility. If Haranto weren’t currently missing, he would have been an ideal scapegoat, but now there was no choice but to sacrifice him. The entire Leon region had now become a haven for mobs. To prevent those armed mobs from invading the Bosen Plain, Bruce’s troops even burned down the large floating bridge that had taken three years to build. Now, communication between Leon and Homer was completely severed. With no external ports in the entire Leon region, Leon was practically isolated, connected only by land routes to the Caucasus.

“Send another army? That sounds easy for you to say. Where am I supposed to send them from? Should they swim across the Nise River or fly there? Get out of here!” Another outburst of angry shouts. Losing a third of his infantry regiment had already made Philip so heartbroken he was on the verge of tears, not to mention three magicians and four sorcerers. This battle in Leon had cost him dearly, and the situation in Leon had become even worse.

“Duke, you can’t speak like that. Over the years, Leon has also contributed a lot to Homer. I’ve worked hard to serve you, and it seems unfair to end up like this,” Poyninsky said, his face gradually turning pale, his attitude showing subtle changes. “If the Duke is so ungrateful, doesn’t that mean the Duke bears some responsibility for Leon falling into the hands of those mobs? I certainly am at fault for losing the territory, but as its protector, what have you done? By shifting all the blame onto me, I fear even the kingdom won’t allow you to evade responsibility like this.”

Philip immediately sensed something unusual. He raised his gaze, studied Poyninsky carefully, and nodded slowly. “Very good, Poyninsky. Right and wrong will be judged fairly. It seems I misjudged you at first. As for who is to blame for Leon falling into the hands of the mobs, the Star Court will decide. If you think there’s anything wrong, feel free to file a complaint with the kingdom’s Star Court.”

“Yes, of course. It’s not something just anyone can do to strip a count of his noble status. For the grand duke to make such a decision casually, I think it’s far too reckless. You will regret this. I hope the grand duke will consider this decision carefully; otherwise, it will be extremely embarrassing when the Royal Court of the Kingdom overturns your decision.” Poninsky’s attitude became increasingly ambiguous, and his tone no longer showed the panic from before—he had clearly recovered from the shock he had initially suffered.

“Hmm, Lord Poninsky, whether you can retain your countship will depend on the decision of the Royal Court of the Kingdom. But as for a lord who can’t even protect his own territory, I can’t imagine how such a person could still have the face to stay here.” Faced with Poninsky’s growing arrogance, Philip became much more cautious in his words. He hadn’t expected this man, whom he thought he had firmly in his grasp, to adopt such an attitude, which made him realize the hidden crisis around him.

“Very well, Your Highness the Grand Duke. Let’s wait and see. I believe the Royal Court of the Kingdom will give us all a fair answer.” With a calm nod, Poninsky finally revealed his true nature—his gloomy face twisted into a cold smile as he left the hall proudly, without looking back.

The fall of Leon not only caused a huge shock throughout the Homer region but also brought unimaginable turmoil to the Kingdom of Nicosia and its surrounding areas. It was simply inconceivable in the past that a group of half-orc mobs could defeat thousands of Homer’s regular troops. However, few people knew the truth behind it. Firstly, aside from those directly involved in the battle when the war broke out, the Leon region was now completely isolated, with the only connection being through Maskat in the Caucasus. This made the outside world filled with curious shock at the strange outcome of this war.

Philip’s defeat in the battle of Leon also directly affected the kingdom’s attitude toward Cyprus. There were fierce criticisms of Philip for being defeated in such a crucial battle by a group of half-orc slaves armed with shovels and picks—something that was unprecedented humiliation for the entire kingdom. Now that Bruce’s great floating bridge had been burned down, rebuilding it would not only take time but also require completely defeating those half-orcs and eliminating the sources of instability in the region first. Until then, Leon would essentially be in a strange state of anarchic independence, with no one able to do anything about them, forced to watch as these vile slaves did as they pleased.

Faced with the kingdom’s aggressive attitude, Philip knew it was not the time to confront them head-on. The most crucial task was to minimize the negative impacts of this crisis and accelerate the expansion of his army to restore his weakened forces. The best approach now was patience and silence.

“My lord, I would like to ask you a question if it’s permissible?” The green curtains blocked out the bright sunlight outside, revealing a lush landscape full of greenery. The Caucasus was already quite hot this season. This was Mahagumi’s secret meeting point in Muscat. Perhaps for the convenience of meetings, Komer chose to meet his upcoming guests here. Maybe to find a topic to pass the boring waiting time, Mahagumi, who already had Komer’s full trust, appeared much calmer in his presence. However, after witnessing the magic array conjured by Komer and Rebril together, Mahagumi, who worshipped the god of war Mars, almost believed that his master was an incarnation of Mars. Such destructive power could only come from gods, far beyond the imagination of someone like Mahagumi, which led to his loyalty toward Komer reaching a level of almost fanatical worship.

The rapid development of the stone mining industry and the completion of the road from Ugru to Muscat led to the explosive growth of this newly established town. As it bordered Leon directly and was located at the strategic pass of Leon’s only route to the Caucasus, many slaves freed by the rebels but unwilling to join their armed forces used this road to reach the Caucasus, making Muscat their first stop. The need for a large workforce in stone mining and processing quickly turned these areas into attractive destinations for these escaped slaves. Mine owners and processing plant managers even offered to handle all the paperwork needed to obtain free citizen status in the Caucasus to attract labor, which immediately drew in a large number of slave laborers.

The surge in trade with Leon’s rebel forces also turned this place into a logistics hub. Large quantities of goods from outside the Caucasus were brought in via Matdan and then resold in Muscat. Plundered goods from nobles, mine owners, gentry, and merchants were either openly or secretly sold through this area. While large-scale trafficking was monopolized by Caucasus-based commercial firms, many private merchants also quietly participated in such trade, though they dared not compete with the Caucasus firms and could only engage in small-scale transactions. Even so, this led to a distorted form of prosperity in local commerce.

“Well, if you have any questions, just ask. Holding them in will only cause discomfort.” The room wasn’t large, and its furnishings were simple, reflecting the intelligence officer’s usual straightforward style—something that suited Komer’s preferences.

“Why won’t you attend the negotiation meeting, my lord? Why even hide your identity? If it’s to avoid unnecessary trouble, I can attend in your place. At least that way we can secure significant benefits. But if you refuse even me from attending, it could severely impact our next plans.”

Mahagumi had always been puzzled by such an attitude toward their master. The turnaround in the situation in Leon and the eventual success of those mobs could be entirely attributed to their own efforts. If it weren’t for the targeted training and decisive counterattack carried out by their side before the battle of Mando, those guys from Woodhard would have long hidden in the Volt Mountains to become bandits. It was that battle that completely shattered the main forces and morale of Homer’s army, boosting the confidence of those mobs and leading to Leon’s current situation. Now, Leon had effectively become an independent kingdom. In Mahagumi’s eyes, those people should all submit to their master, who should be the true ruler of this land. Of course, this was just Mahagumi’s personal opinion. He also knew that in the mortal world, the ownership of lands involved quite complex origins and legal procedures—it wasn’t as simple as whoever occupied the land could claim it.

“Mahagumi, some things require a long-term perspective. Do you really think those people can maintain this situation for long?” Komer had already begun training this quite useful half-orc hybrid as his confidant. Although he lacked political experience, his keen political sense and intelligence made him capable of handling the tasks assigned to him, and so far, he had done excellently. What Komer needed now was to help this guy adapt to his role as much as possible and break free from the typical mindset of a half-orc.

“Do you mean Leon will still be taken back by Homer?” Surprised, Mahagumi raised his puzzled gaze. “But didn’t you say Homer doesn’t have the strength to interfere with Leon for now? Even the large floating bridge over the Nise River outside Bruce Fortress has been destroyed. It won’t be possible to rebuild it in a short time.”

“I didn’t say Homer will reoccupy Leon. I just said that given the current situation, it’s unlikely Leon can maintain this state for long.” Komer leaned back lazily in his chair, his thoughts already back in Ugru. He wondered what was happening to that experimental subject still in the dark room. He wasn’t sure whether the dormant state would cause harm to her body—after all, this was his first time conducting such an experiment, but it was worth a try.

“What do you mean by the reasons why Leon can’t continue?” Mahagumi had already guessed a bit, but their side had been continuously supplying those things there. Could their master suddenly change his attitude?

“Food, of course it’s food. Without food, how long can hundreds of thousands of people in such a large area as Leon survive relying only on their local production?” Komer replied indifferently, half-heartedly. “The orders from Cyprus will soon reach the lord’s palace in Ugru. Homer will definitely demand that we cut off contact with Leon. Leon currently relies almost entirely on supplies from us; their local reserves are already minimal. Not to mention cutting off contact, even if the supply volume remains unchanged, Leon won’t be able to sustain itself for long. Do these fools really think they can achieve something? Before long, they’ll start fighting among themselves over food.”
“So does that mean it will be our turn to step in and clean up the mess at that time?” Mahagumi seemed to understand her master’s thoughts somewhat.
“No, it’s right to plan ahead, which is why I’m here to meet them today. If Leon is to survive, it must restore normal order as soon as possible. No land can survive through war. War can change the ownership of wealth, but it can’t create wealth. When people can’t even maintain their basic needs, Leon’s chaos will affect us in the Caucasus. Therefore, we must have the ability to control the situation.” Komer’s vague words left the half-orc confused, as he tried hard to grasp the hidden meaning in his master’s words.