Chapter 23: Doubts

Fran’s words left Komer deep in thought. Even after Fran left, he continued to ponder her last words. He didn’t believe Vero had come with some special mission. In fact, if Vero truly had a purpose, there would be no need to hide it. But given Zelin’s cunning, it was unlikely he wouldn’t be aware of Vero’s arrival. Perhaps, as Fran said, this was a hidden move—a tactic waiting for the right moment for Komer to decide how to use it, with Vero’s arrival serving as a hint to him.
The unpredictable changes in the kingdom’s situation were truly difficult to discern. The Gallics, who had seemed inclined to restraint or ambiguity, had launched an attack, even mobilizing their most elite group, the Resurrection Knights. In contrast, Poznan and Silesia, which he had been most concerned about, remained silent, acting more slowly than he had expected. Should he act first, using reserve forces to dissuade the Gallics from continuing their campaign before negotiating with Zelin, or should he first establish a baseline through negotiations and focus his main forces on Poznan and Silesia? This question troubled Komer, and Fran offered no clear advice, only asking him to decide for himself.
However, soon scouts brought news that the Resurrection Knights had not stayed in the Bosen Plain. After achieving a initial victory, this group from Gallicia disappeared quickly from the plain, reportedly retreating toward Cyprus, leaving behind the vast Bosen Plain and Odessa, which had become an undefended city. Even Homer’s navy, which had always used Odessa as a base, vanished silently from the port, seemingly returning to Cyprus as well.
The battle at Fort Tachros had greatly demoralized the Homerians. Faced with the fierce barbarian and half-orc armies, the northern armies, which rarely fought against such races, showed varying degrees of panic. Without the fort, the open Bosen Plain could not be defended against these so-called inferior armies with just the battered Homerian infantry—it was impossible to turn the tide.

The appearance of barbarian and half-orc armies in the Bosen Plains and Odessa had plunged the entire central region of Homer into a state of panic. The nobles who supported Philip fled one after another, leaving behind mostly low-ranking nobles with no territories or those with tiny, barren lands. Even they merely waited and watched, hoping for a clear outcome to the conflict between the Caucasus and Philip as soon as possible.

The handsome man’s face was shadowed with anger, tarnishing his otherwise outstanding appearance. His magnificent magical armor emphasized his muscular build, while the faint glow emanating from his knightly spear revealed his intense emotions. Facing his companion, who stood nearby lost in thought, he seemed unable to hold back any longer.

“Culklin, why not take this chance to crush those damned scum? I’ve never fought like this before—winning a battle yet retreating on our own. Now we’ve been cowering here for almost half a month, while those damned barbarians and half-orcs wreak havoc in the Bosen Plains. What are we even doing here? Putting on a show?”

The knight, who had been deep in thought, seemed to be pulled back from his reverie by his companion’s words. He didn’t seem too annoyed by his companion’s outburst. His jujube-red knightly cloak was draped over his left shoulder, and his oddly shaped longsword didn’t resemble a traditional knight’s sword—it more resembled the greatsword used by swordsmen, only much narrower. Hidden in its scabbard, it made it difficult to discern its true form. His thin face exuded more composure than that of the handsome man, with less impatience—perhaps this was why he could serve as the leader of the Rebirth Knights.

“Sart, don’t let a trivial victory blind us. We’ve seen the combat strength of the Caucasus army—it’s not as weak as the Homerians claim. At least that half-orc army didn’t panic when faced with our attack. Even though they were defeated by our assaults, they still managed to maintain their formation. We both know that it was only because we were better prepared that we were able to defeat them so easily.”

“Culklin, are you saying that the Rebirth Knights can’t even handle a band of half-orc natives under equal conditions?” A mocking and disdainful expression appeared on the handsome knight’s face.

“I didn’t say that. But winning easily won’t be that simple either,” replied the thin man named Culklin calmly.

“Hmph, I don’t want to argue over nonsense here with you. I just want to ask—what are we doing here? Preparing for a hunt or hibernating?” The handsome man’s sinister gaze didn’t escape the thin knight’s eyes. He glanced at him with disdain—a fool who thought he was superior just because of his family’s influence and his status as a quasi-saint knight. He didn’t realize this wasn’t a duel between knights but a war. The Homers’ crushing defeat had proven that the Caucasus forces were by no means a bunch of ragtag amateurs. Especially with the addition of the infamous races of orcs and barbarians, things became even more complicated. A single skirmish victory had made this guy arrogant—truly hopeless.
“Sart, we need to keep waiting and observe the situation,” the thin man said calmly. There was no need to tell him the grand duke’s instructions. This guy had already gone mad and blinded by the news of Princess Vero in the Caucasus, thinking that defeating those orcs roaming the Bosen Plains would allow him to win back Princess Vero’s heart. Pitiful and sad—a man without self-awareness. Vero had never liked him, yet he thought they were meant for each other. His usual shrewdness had vanished long ago; truly disappointing.
“Keep waiting? What exactly are we waiting for? For those orcs to trample Cyprus underfoot? Or for them to plant that stupid bear-head flag in every town in Homer? We were invited by Grand Duke Philip to eliminate rebels, not to enjoy the scenery!” Sart could no longer contain his anger. His handsome face twisted into a grotesque mask.
“Sart, please calm down. Kulkin must have his reasons for acting this way. You seem too impulsive. Is it really because of Princess Vero in the Caucasus?” Another knight who had remained silent by the window couldn’t stand it any longer and interjected, “Your behavior will only drive Princess Vero further away from you!”
“Falcon, what do you mean?!” The enraged Sart immediately turned his anger on him.

“Sart, we all know you’re still upset about Princess Vero going to the Caucasus. To be honest, we don’t think that guy Komer is worthy of her either. But being so irritable and stubborn, completely losing the rationality and composure of a knight—will that really make Vero change her mind?” The knight standing by the window spoke bluntly without any restraint: “Not even the Grand Duke stopped the princess from leaving. How can you possibly stop her from going to the Caucasus? Get your head back on straight.”

Sart’s face turned pale as if he had been punched in the chest. He stammered for a while, unable to speak, as if pondering what Falken had said. Falken shook his head in dismay. A quasi-saint knight who claimed to be on the verge of reaching the rank of a holy knight turned out to be so emotionally fragile. No wonder he hadn’t made any progress in the past two years. At this rate, it might take another twenty years before he could even hope to become a holy knight.

“Enough, Falken. Stop causing trouble. Princess Vero likes to travel. Wherever she goes is her freedom, and it doesn’t mean anything. Let’s focus on our current tasks. The Homers have completely collapsed. Now only a few remnants have retreated to Cyprus. Duke Philip is pinning his hopes on us and reinforcements from the northern regions. But it seems the Grand Duke has no intention of sending infantry to fight. I still haven’t received any orders from him.”

“As for Poznan and Silesia, I heard they’re mobilizing. But it seems the orcs have also been having frequent skirmishes with them in the border areas. Rumors of orcs invading Poznan and Silesia are rampant. I guess even if they can send reinforcements, it will be limited, depending on how fast they can mobilize. In other words, in this vast area from Cyprus to the Busen Plain, only our army is here. Although the forces in the Caucasus are still busy settling things in the Busen Plain and Odessa and haven’t moved north yet, given Komer’s nature, he won’t delay too long. Maybe his army is already on its way north. Perhaps we should discuss what to do if they continue moving north and inevitably pass through where we’re stationed. How should we respond in the next battle?”

Folken glanced at the other party in surprise. From the tone of voice, it seemed the other party didn’t want to fight any longer at all; they only hoped that stopping at the Bosen Plains would avoid war. What on earth was Cucklin thinking? Could it be that the Resurrection Knights came to Homer just for show, not truly intending to help Grand Duke Philip suppress those rebels in Komer? Then why fight those half-orcs earlier? Folken was also confused, but seeing the strange expression in Cucklin’s eyes, he felt a slight stir in his heart. Could it be that the grand duke had other instructions or plans for him?