Chapter 4: Mysterious Circumstances

“It’s absolutely wonderful! Why not?” Komer laughed heartily. “It makes perfect sense.”
“But this Ebson has far too high an appetite—he wants to empty Poznan’s treasury completely! Won’t that mean my trip was for nothing?!” Pupper cried out. He had come expecting to take possession of Poznan’s wealth, but the news brought by the negotiators thrilled Komer and his group, yet it was disastrous for him.
“Your trip was for nothing? Pupper, isn’t all of Poznan not enough to satisfy your greed?” Komer retorted.
“That’s something far in the future. What I know is the crisis we face now—I need a large amount of cash, houses, and everything else. Otherwise, how can I pay the rewards you promised those half-orcs and barbarians? This damned war isn’t just spilling blood every second; it’s draining away years of my hard-earned savings in the Caucasus!”
Pupper shook his head frantically.
“Pupper, do you really lack money that much?” Komer stared at him like a snake at its prey.
“Of course! You don’t have to look at me like that. You’re well aware of the current financial situation in the Caucasus!” Pupper retorted defiantly.
“Well then, how about mortgaging Groningen’s tax revenues to the Gran family? I think Kalamanis will crawl at your feet like a hound and give you the cash you need,” Komer said with a smile.
“The Giza people? No, no—that’s not a good idea. Those damned Giza people are worse than vampires; they’ll drain Poznan’s treasury dry!” Hit in his weak spot, Pupper deflated instantly. “Damn it! How could you even think of that? The people of Poznan will curse you for life!”
“Well, if the Giza people aren’t suitable, mortgaging it to the Caucasus Bank might work,” Komer said cheerfully.
“Maybe that’s the only option. We can’t let outsiders benefit. Boss, the treasury is already overdrawn. We really can’t sustain this war any longer. Let’s end it as soon as possible,” Pupper said helplessly.
“How can Poznan fall into our hands without a war? As the most important port in the north, Groningen generates considerable taxes every year, especially with its close ties to the Land of Mist. Just think of the profits it could bring us!” Komer shook his head. “Pupper, broaden your mind and think ahead. Believe me, every war brings us far more benefits than what we invest. Otherwise, why would I wage such wars?”

Puber fell silent. He knew Comer was right, but his miserly nature made him want to warn Comer to be careful—once the war started, Gold Shields would flow out like water. His trip north this time was also forced by those guys from the Caucasus Bank. If he couldn’t bring them a reasonable return, the Caucasus finances would truly run out of resources.

“Alright, does anyone else have questions?” Comer said cheerfully. “Fran, it’s up to you now.”

“Rest assured, my lord. I’ll make the Silesians taste the bitterness of ‘betraying’ their allies. Poznan isn’t a place they should reach for. I’m sure Mr. Ebson will have everything prepared for us.”

Fran once again witnessed Comer’s tactics. Deceiving documents—such a trick could probably only come from him. And at a time like this, it was undoubtedly as effective as an entire army. It not only shattered Ebson’s confidence to continue the war but also successfully shifted Ebson’s and the Poznans’ hostility toward Silesia and Calais, almost eliminating all resistance to their actions in Poznan—a result impossible to achieve through conquest alone.

Like a furious lion, Zerin locked himself in his room. He didn’t want to lose control in front of his subordinates, but the anger simmering inside him left him with nowhere to vent it.

What exactly was happening in this world?

Homer’s army had swept through entire Poznan with terrifying ease—from Tylins to Denver to the city of Poznan itself. Ebson’s Poznan Knights and tens of thousands of troops were utterly helpless. A fortress as strong as Denver held out for only two days before the Poznans surrendered to the Homers. Could Homer’s army transform itself in less than a year? Moreover, a significant portion of Homer’s forces were still dealing with their own army’s attacks in the west. It was unbelievable!

In Zerin’s view, with the cooperation of the Silesians, Poznan and Silesia could firmly hold back the Homers in the northern wilderness. But everything went against expectations. The Silesians did nothing. Their knightly orders and infantry units wandered around, unsure of what to do. So-called frequent orc activities and unrest among nobles and merchants were clearly just flimsy excuses. What was that old fox, Nissa, up to?

A conspiracy! Definitely a conspiracy! As an experienced man, Zerin detected a strong scent of hidden intrigue. Yet, like layers of mist, it always shrouded him. He tried to tear through the mist to see the truth, but he never succeeded.

The tripartite alliance was still fresh, yet such a strange situation had arisen, which couldn’t help but fill Zerin with anger and confusion. What exactly did the Cilicians want? Why didn’t they send troops to reinforce Poznan? Could it be that Nisa and Komer had some kind of understanding?

No, that was impossible. Was Nisa not afraid that the Homers would turn their swords against them after seizing Poznan? Or was Nisa confident that Cilicia could withstand the Homers’ threat?

The situation grew increasingly murky, and Zerin felt the danger closing in on him. The battles of the Rebirth Knights and the Gallic Infantry on the eastern front were just as grim. The Rock Army, composed of Homerian half-orcs and supported by Homerian archers, had held back their own forces here, making little progress. Now, his only reliance was the power of mages, but this was a double-edged sword. Once mages’ power was fully utilized, it would surely cause heavy damage to both sides, perhaps leaving no room for reversal. For now, Zerin wasn’t willing to go that far.

Zerin glanced north. He was almost certain that the Cilicians’ strange behavior was related to the orcs. The relationship between Cilicia and the orcs had always been suspicious in his eyes. The orcs’ overwhelming success in the last war was largely due to the Cilicians’ poor performance at Fort Saint Nicholas. Zerin had always suspected something was amiss, but without evidence, he couldn’t openly question them, especially since Cilicia was still his ally.

This time, Cilicia’s repeated actions forced him to consider things carefully. These guys seemed fearless, showing no fear even in the face of the Homers’ aggressive attacks. What did they rely on? The Light Church? Maybe three years ago, but now, with internal strife, did they still have such strength? Then it could only be the orcs. But Zerin couldn’t understand why Nisa dared to trust those non-human orcs.

Zerin would never uncover the mystery behind it.

Jazair.

The great standard representing the Bimon royal banner stood tall in front of Jazair’s magnificent palace. The once valiant guards of the Kingdom of Nicossia had been replaced by burly, brightly armored warriors. Beneath the standard were the flags representing the five major Bimon royal families, symbolizing the unified authority of these families under the Bimon Kingdom.

“Kart, what do you think?” asked Sami Tagore, sitting solemnly on the central throne.

“Hmph, those weak mortals fighting among themselves is exactly our rare opportunity. Why would we give up such a good chance?” Carter Wolf’s green eyes in his long, thin face always gave off a sinister vibe, and his rapid rubbing of his hands indicated he was in a good mood.
“Sami, Carter, I don’t see it that way. I think we still need to consider this carefully,” Christina said softly, curled up in her large chair, carefully polishing her beautiful nails with a brush. “We can’t ignore the opinions of our potential allies. Sometimes we place too much emphasis on immediate gains.”
“Hmph, those mortals all think the same way. Of course they don’t want us to take another step forward. Just taking this step already has made them furious—so what if we take one more?” Carter Wolf said dismissively. “I don’t think we’re dependent on them right now.”
“Carter, you’re wrong. They’re not ordinary mortals. They’re mortals with great power, a well-organized structure, and firm beliefs. We’ve all seen it—even with your powerful transformation abilities, are you sure you can handle any one of them in a one-on-one fight?” Christina retorted with a light laugh.
After a moment of silence, Carter Wolf, who wasn’t one to insist stubbornly, shook his head. “No, I’m not completely sure. Their individual strength may be weak, but their ability to harness the power of nature is truly bizarre. Heaven has granted these mortals too much luck.”
“And that’s not even the most important thing. We’ve only been in Jazair for a short time. Although we’ve tried various policies to win over these mortals, results are just beginning to show. It will take a long time to truly influence them. Don’t you realize how crucial this is for our entire Bimon clan?” Christina Fox said gravely, no longer showing her initial relaxed demeanor.