Chapter 5: Fire in the Backyard

Licking his lips awkwardly, Pupber couldn’t help but glance at Fran beside him again. This wasn’t the time to shirk responsibility, but Pupber still instinctively wanted to involve Fran in discussing the issue. It was clear his old friend was indeed angry, and Pupber wondered if this incident had been too reckless.
“Lord, it was Fran who orchestrated this whole thing. Mr. Pupber isn’t directly involved. Still, Fran believes this will do more harm than good to Caucasoliga, if my guess isn’t too far off.”
Neither Komer nor Pupber expected Fran to take responsibility first and back it up with such conviction.
“A guess? What guess?” Komer was more interested in Fran’s last statement. He wondered what kind of guess this usually calm professional warrior might have.
“Lord, if you want to build a powerful military force—well, I mean one strong enough to overwhelm those in the north—you can’t ignore the barbarians!”
The fanatical glow in Fran’s eyes surprised even Komer. When had his military leader become so aggressive and warlike? In Komer’s memory, Fran had always been a proponent of a lean military strategy, never agreeing to blind expansion focused solely on quantity at the expense of quality. His own previous attempts at expansion had faced Fran’s opposition. Without his persistent push, the army’s size might still be under three thousand.
Seeing Komer’s probing gaze on him yet no objections, Fran took a deep breath to calm himself slightly.
“I don’t know what your next plan is, Lord, but since you’ve already sent Ilot and Dragumo to Livonia, even a fool can see you’ll be involved in the kingdom’s civil war. If you’re going to get involved, there’s no need to hide it—indeed, it’s impossible to hide. So rather than passively waiting for things to happen, it’s better to take an active role. Preemptive action is a key principle in military strategy. If we can take the lead, we’ll gain the advantage. One step ahead, and every step thereafter will be advantageous. The outcome of war often hinges on such a single step.”
Komer stared intently at Fran’s face, silent for a long time. Fran’s sudden change in behavior surprised him greatly. What could have made him act so aggressively, contrary to his usual demeanor?

“Fran, tell me your true thoughts and intentions. I don’t want to remain in the dark, confused and unaware. If our goals align, I won’t refuse a wonderful plan that could help me achieve my own objectives.” After a long while, Komer slowly nodded. Years of navigating among nobles, bureaucrats, and merchants had made him sophisticated enough to handle any unexpected situation with a calm and strategic demeanor.

Fran also knew that this lord was no longer the inexperienced young noble he used to be, easily manipulated. Even the slightest hint would not escape his keen senses, and he himself had no intention of deceiving him. He believed the lord shared the same thoughts—at least their goals were the same, though their desires to achieve those goals differed. As for methods, Fran was convinced the lord was even more ruthless than himself.

“Lord, I don’t want to hide anything. The orcish flag has already been raised atop Jazair’s walls. In fact, the Kingdom of Nicocia is no different from my homeland of Melen. The only difference is that Nicocia’s territory is vast, and the orcs haven’t yet managed to fully control it, so they allow various forces to survive there. Look at how the orcs are acting—they’re no longer satisfied with mere plundering. They want to seize all of humanity’s achievements. You must have seen the messages sent by Mahagumi. What does the emergence of the Witch Priest power signify? It means the orcs now possess natural forces that can rival human magic. And their actions in Jazair aren’t enough to wake everyone up?” Fran’s intense gaze burned painfully, even stunning Komer with his passionate words.

“Fran, these are realities that neither you nor I can change in the short term. The emergence of the Witch Priest power is indeed shocking, but it doesn’t represent everything. The gap in strength between the orcs and us mortals can’t be measured by that power alone. Just look at their clumsy attempts to learn everything about our civilization—to see how far behind they are.” After a long while, Komer spoke slowly, his expression now tinged with gloom.

“Of course, the orcs are still far behind us mortals, but my lord, you know well our weaknesses—we can never unite. Intrigues and power struggles have always been an endless plague in our mortal world. Under such circumstances, how can we possibly stand against the united orcs?” Fran retorted bitterly, ungrateful for the consideration.

“Desire has always been the driving force behind the development of our mortal civilization, and its truth has long been indisputably proven. Without desire, there is no momentum for progress. Intrigue and competition are also products of civilizational evolution, not unique to us mortals. The orcs will inherit these flaws as they learn from our civilization.” Seemingly understanding something, Komer’s expression brightened.

“But by then, they might have already destroyed everything we mortals have!” Fran countered firmly after a pause.

Another awkward silence ensued, and Komer had no choice but to acknowledge the validity of her point: “You’re right. That possibility indeed exists. Go ahead and express what you mean, Fran. I’m listening.”

“My lord, the Kingdom of Nicomia is finished—or rather, it has fallen. The Church of Light has also completely degenerated. The rise of the orcs is undoubtedly tied to their indulgence and support. In short, both the secular and religious pillars of our northern mortals have collapsed. Once the orcs gain a firm foothold, they will make the lords of other parts of Nicomia suffer greatly. No one in Nicomia can now stop their advance. The other nations of the Northern Alliance haven’t yet fully realized this crisis, as they haven’t suffered personal losses. Only you can take on this responsibility now. We hope you’ll stop those civilization destroyers from wreaking havoc.”

Startled, Komer’s gaze turned icy as he stared coldly into her eyes. That sinister look pierced straight into Fran’s heart. “Us?” That word immediately gave Komer a sense of foreboding.

Taking a deep breath, the phrase “the backyard is on fire” immediately popped into Komer’s mind. He never expected that while he had roamed the Southern Lands and manipulated events in Nicosia, he would be betrayed from behind—by someone he trusted the most? Could Puber be involved too? Glancing at the bewildered Puber, Komer felt a slight relief; at least Puber hadn’t betrayed him, which was better than anything. The emotional hurt had made the scars in his heart extremely fragile. He wasn’t afraid of anything, but losing a friend was what scared him the most.

Swallowing the slightly bitter saliva caused by nervousness—something he hadn’t felt in ages—Komer’s state of mind was unusual. He tried hard to clear his thoughts and analyze this sudden turn of events. Since Fran had come alone, things didn’t seem as bad as he had initially thought. Yet it was still bad enough—his own military leader had been turned against him. What a joke! If his army wasn’t mostly made up of half-orcs, Komer probably wouldn’t even be able to cry. No matter how Fran trained those half-orcs, he could never erase the image Komer had planted in their minds—Komer was quite confident about that.

Why? Komer immediately set aside all emotional factors and analyzed calmly. Why would Fran betray him? Who or what force was manipulating everything behind the scenes? What was Mahagumi’s security system doing? An unprecedented anger enveloped Komer’s emotions, but he knew now wasn’t the time to get angry.

“You? Fran, am I hearing right?” Komer didn’t intend to expose everything at once. He needed time to think it through and also hoped to get a detailed and comprehensive answer. “Who else, besides you, does ‘us’ refer to? Bauling, or all my Caucasian troops, or perhaps everyone from the Greater Caucasus?”

Fran remained calm, sensing the murderous intent hidden in Komer’s words. “My lord, I think there’s a misunderstanding. I can’t represent them, not even Bauling. The Caucasian troops still belong to you, forever! I only represent some people who share my views. They don’t belong to the Caucasus, and they have no ill intentions.”

“Oh? Tell me, who are they? I’m really looking forward to it.” Comer nodded inwardly; his analysis was also along those lines. No one had managed to turn the Caucasus against them yet—at least Mahagumi wouldn’t be completely unaware, and Fran didn’t seem like the type to harbor resentment. But how on earth could those so-called saints persuade Fran to stage such a persuasion play?