Chapter 2: Turning Back

What else could I do? Ebson’s bewildered gaze searched around, as if seeking something to rely on— the Mage Corps? They had done their best. If not for their continuous use of thunder and fire magic at the fortress to drive back those barbarians, those waves of invaders would likely have already surged over the city walls, and they would be sitting here celebrating their victory.
The Poznan Knights? They too had suffered heavy losses. That damned Leclerc—now completely a lackey of that usurper. It was his sudden attack led by the Homer Knights that disrupted their own attack formation, forcing their knights to retreat and leading to the collapse of the entire front line.
Who else could help me? Ebson felt desperate. The Gallic forces were said to have launched an attack from the west, but distant help wouldn’t solve immediate problems. By the time they reached Homer, who knew if he would still be alive? The only hope might be the Cilician reinforcements. If they could arrive in time to join the battle, perhaps the war could continue. But so far, the Cilicians were still nowhere in sight. He had sent several messengers to urge their arrival, but none had returned—no idea what had happened.
Dry lips and dizziness made it hard for Ebson to stand steady. The guards beside him noticed something was wrong and quickly helped him down from the city wall. The sun was slowly setting. For now, this difficult day was over, but what about tomorrow? The day after? Ebson no longer had any faith that his side could hold on.
Ebson leaned back in his chair and fell into a deep sleep. Only in extreme exhaustion could he barely sleep, but nightmares in his dreams always woke him up in cold sweat. When would this torment end?
“My lord, my lord!” A guard’s voice woke Ebson. Opening his eyes, he sprang to his feet. “The enemy is attacking?!”
“No, no, my lord. It’s the men sent to Cilicia who have returned,” the guard replied softly.
His spirits lifted instantly. Ebson shook his swollen head vigorously, trying to clear his thoughts. Then he realized the several messengers he had sent had returned together. What were they up to now? He stared at the pale-faced messengers with suspicion.
“What’s going on? What did Nisa Ferdinand say? When will his reinforcements arrive?”

“My lord, there are large-scale riots in Silesia. It is said that orcs from the east are also active in the border areas of Silesia. Lord Nissa says his army may take some time to arrive, and in the meantime, he asks you to hold on.”

Ebsen sat frozen in his chair, stunned. What was going on? Did the orcs also have some secret agreement with that usurper? Why were they suddenly becoming active now? Weren’t the border areas supposed to be quite peaceful? Riots? Where did these riots come from? Could it be that the news of the blockade of the port of Gdansk had reached Silesia, causing the nobles and merchants to riot? Impossible. In such a short time, those merchants and nobles couldn’t possibly stir up such a big disturbance. Didn’t they know that Homer, all of Poznan, and Silesia were in a state of war?

His expression shifted from disbelief to despair, then to anger. His whole body trembled. Who could tell him what was really going on? Why were all these things happening in such a short time? It was a conspiracy, a huge conspiracy! Ebsen realized he seemed to be trapped in someone’s scheme, but his confused mind couldn’t sort through all these complicated clues.

Dead silence filled the hall. Aside from Ebsen’s heavy breathing, no one dared make a sound. At this moment, the lord was like an enraged porcupine—anyone who provoked him would end up covered in spikes.

The sound of guards’ footsteps came from outside again. The terrifying look on Ebsen’s face made the guards who had just entered the hall hesitate.

“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“My lord, an envoy from Homer outside the city has come. He requests to see you.”

Ebsen, with his lips turned blue, was stunned for a moment before realizing—it was to persuade him to surrender?

When the envoy calmly explained everything to Ebsen, the nearly paralyzed Ebsen could no longer hold back. He suddenly jumped up and started screaming like a madman, “You’re lying! You want to use division tactics to split our alliance, right? I don’t believe it! I’ll never believe it! The Silesian army will arrive soon, and the Gallics will break through your resistance. That usurper will be defeated right away! Haha, it’s absurd! To try to trick me with such childish methods—do you think I’ll fall for it?”

The envoy showed a faint pitying smile. He simply listened quietly to Ebsen’s outburst, offering neither explanation nor defense.

Like a fierce lion trapped in a cage, Ebson paced back and forth frantically. His cheeks, reddened from extreme excitement, gradually turned pale. No, it couldn’t be—had they really joined forces against him?
“Lord Ebson, please take a look at this,” the messenger said, waiting until Ebson calmed down slightly before taking out a scroll from his arms and handing it to him.
Ebson snatched the scroll and quickly unfolded it, scanning it line by line at lightning speed. A wave of dizziness nearly made him fall. The seal of the Silesian lords’ palace and Nisa’s elegant signature on the scroll left him almost collapsed. What was this? An outline of an agreement regarding the land distribution in Poznan? He tried hard to see clearly, but it was undeniably the seal of the Silesian lords’ palace and Nisa’s signature—he recognized them too well; it was definitely not forged!
Stunned and at a loss, Ebson felt his mind go blank. What a clever move by Nisa Ferdinand! Such tactics as “if your lips are gone, your teeth will suffer” or “when the rabbit dies, the hounds are killed”—did they mean nothing to the Ferdinand family? Or had Ferdinand and Zelin already made a deal with that guy, Komer, with Poznan merely being a piece of meat on their cutting board?
His chaotic thoughts left Ebson dizzy, but one thing was clear: he had been completely betrayed by the Silesians and the Gallics!
Intense anger surged like a tide in Ebson’s chest, overwhelming everything else. At that moment, all he wanted was revenge! He wanted to punish those who had hurt him, to make them suffer even more than he had! He wanted them to regret everything they had done to him!