Chapter 2: Is It Time to Counterattack?

With a light laugh, Komer gave a gesture, and the magic vine quickly retreated to a safe distance. The sword strike moments earlier had nearly hit the vine’s vital core. If not for the vine’s prior experiences with assassins that gave it some foresight, even Komer standing by would have been helpless against such a sudden attack.
“Vladkov, you really don’t hesitate to use lethal force. That move almost ruined the magic vine I’ve worked so hard to cultivate. Aren’t you just happy to see me suffer?”
Vladkov, who had already sheathed his sword and stood aside, said expressionlessly, “My lord, you never asked me to hold back. But personally, I think this thing isn’t very useful. Its attack power is weak, and its reaction speed is slow. In battle, it would be torn to pieces the moment it enters the fight.”
Komer smiled bitterly as he rubbed his cheek. Of course, he was aware of the strengths and weaknesses of the vine he had cultivated. The vine was a magical creature grown from plants, infused with dark corruption magic. Though it had those elements, its weakness as a plant lay in its weak attack power and slow reaction speed. Its advantage was its resilient life force—so long as the damage wasn’t fatal, it could repair itself.
Vladkov, viewing things from a knightly perspective, naturally saw the vine as utterly weak. But he forgot just how much of a difference there was between such a vine and a dark knight like himself. Once this vine was successfully cultivated, he could easily create several more. Summoning several of them in battle could serve as a significant obstacle to the enemy. For a mage like himself, skilled in magic, having such a defensive barrier was crucial—it could buy him enough time to cast spells.
“Maybe so. But Vladkov, what if I summoned three vines at once?” Komer asked with a slight smile.
“It would still be useless. I could chop those three things to pieces within ten moves!” Vladkov shook his head and said proudly.
“Hmm, within ten moves. But within that time, I could already unleash Thor’s Hammer along with Windblade!” Komer retorted calmly.

Stunned speechless by Komer’s words, Vladkov never expected him to respond in such a manner. But upon reflection, it made sense—he was merely fighting against a few magical creatures, and their masters might have intended for those creatures to distract him while he prepared his magic.

“Vladkov, don’t underestimate these things. They possess strong vitality and a certain level of intelligence. Just these two traits are worth careful consideration. Sometimes, the outcome of a battle is decided in an instant. As a magician, gaining even one extra second could determine the outcome of a war.” Seeing that Vladkov remained silent, Komer continued, “This is just a trial. Perhaps stronger and more intelligent creatures can be created—that’s my real goal.”

His mastery of magic hadn’t eased his worries. The pressure from the Caucasus would only increase. As the struggle for the throne of Nicomedia intensified, Homer’s preparations for war against Bruce and Leon would likely accelerate as well. The pragmatic Philip wouldn’t wait until the throne dispute was resolved before dealing with the Caucasus. Before that, he would surely use whatever forces Hoffman could mobilize to deal with the problems in the south. He couldn’t just sit idly by, but figuring out a way to counter this was indeed difficult. Strength truly mattered—no matter how many tricks or strategies one used, it was ultimately a matter of strength in confrontation.

He couldn’t rely on Kakiya. She still counted on him delivering a decisive blow to Philip using Hoffman’s resources. However, he could ask her to find ways to delay contact between the court mages and Hoffman. But the court mages couldn’t make a decisive difference—they were merely a striking force. What Komer truly feared was if Philip resorted to using Homer’s military power at all costs. With such a huge disparity in strength, the Caucasus would have little chance.

Suddenly, a resolute barbarian’s face appeared before him. Was it really necessary to borrow troops from the barbarians? Komer couldn’t help but sigh. In the eyes of all mortals, barbarians were beasts of prey, but in Komer’s view, they were somewhat special. This race, not very skilled in farming or herding, actually had fatal flaws—they were unable to feed themselves and faced hostility from both mortals and other races. Lacking talent in commerce and industry, they had little else to their name aside from their physical strength. Yet that physical strength was completely offset by the effective organization and discipline of mortals and other races, as well as their superior weapons and equipment. Their pride in military power resulted in repeated defeats at the hands of mortal and other racial alliances. Occasional victories couldn’t change their long-term disadvantage. A relentless encirclement trapped them in the Cordillera Wasteland, and it seemed they were gradually declining there. His presence in the Caucasus seemed to have given them some hope, especially now that he also controlled the southern Flanders region. Intelligence reports confirmed this—due to his growing influence within barbarian territories, even reaching deep into the Cordillera Wasteland, the barbarian alliance had actually split severely. The Siga tribe, along with the Karon and Kat tribes, had united, firmly supporting reconciliation with the Caucasus and Flanders to gain more benefits for their tribes’ development. Another group, centered around the Karo and Siva tribes, strongly opposed excessive contact with mortals. The Sanya and Kali tribes remained undecided. But Komer knew the Sanya tribe couldn’t resist the temptations from Flanders, while it was hard to say the same for the Kali tribe.

The Sanjia tribe did not halt its cooperation with the Caucasus due to its departure. Komer believed that the prosperity of the Caucasus and the abundant food supplies brought about by the opening of the Catalonia River route had made it impossible for the Sanjia tribe to break free from its reliance on the Caucasus. A large number of barbarians, driven by the need for livelihood, flocked to the Caucasus and even to Leon to work, competing with half-orcs for job opportunities. These barbarians could not only reduce the food pressure on their own tribes but also bring substantial income back to their relatives and families. Although both the Caucasus and the Sanjia tribe were consciously trying to strengthen control over their interactions, Komer knew that increasing exchanges between them was an inevitable trend. It was no longer possible to forcibly separate them; the only option was to adapt to the situation and use the weaknesses of the barbarians to their advantage.

War seemed like a good opportunity to strengthen relations between the two sides while binding the Sanjia tribe to its own cause. However, this opportunity required great skill in balancing things, as any carelessness could harm oneself. If things really reached that point, he might have no choice but to act in this way. Looking around, Komer realized he was actually in a similar situation to the barbarians. Neither Homer nor Galle, nor the central kingdom, truly supported him—they either wanted to eliminate him, weaken him, or exploit him. Once his value was exhausted or the right moment came, he would likely become their next target.

To escape this situation, he had to become truly powerful, ensuring that the surrounding forces relied on him rather than exploited him. Only then could he be considered truly independent.

Komer had never placed his hopes on others, but now he felt he might have to make an effort. He might need to communicate with the Sanjia tribe and consider the worst-case scenario. As long as he could persuade Di Fanchi, there should be no problem with the Sanjia tribe. Thinking of Di Fanchi’s resolute figure, Komer couldn’t help but smile slightly. Heroes were inevitably exploited, and Di Fanchi seemed to be exactly that kind of person.

He also needed to visit the kingdom. He couldn’t let that little bitch Kajiya wait so easily to reap the fruits of victory. The kingdom’s court mages must do their utmost to reduce any help they might offer to Homer, even if it meant using extreme measures. He believed Kajiya might have some good suggestions for him.

Back at the count’s manor, Komer sat alone in the study, lost in thought. Life’s circumstances were so unpredictable—sometimes pushed to the peak of chaos, other times plunged into the depths. Being exiled to the Caucasus and then granted immigration to three regions could be considered one phase, while Homer’s blockade and being forced to head to the Great Swamp to find a way out were another. After enduring so many hardships, a climax seemed to have arrived, only for the Inquisition to suddenly plunge him into an abyss, forcing him to flee far away. Now, he had turned passivity into initiative and was rising again. Yet it seemed as though fate never favored him—military threats from the north might once again render all his previous efforts in vain. Komer reflected deeply on himself. All these days, he had always reacted passively to his enemies’ provocations, always trying to find ways to defuse their attacks. Wave after wave of turmoil left him exhausted. It seemed like a vicious cycle—every time he managed to escape danger, another crisis would arise. It was time for him to change this passive situation; otherwise, he would eventually be swept away by the storms.