Chapter 8: With Hands Behind Back

The Poznan Storm swept across the entire Kingdom of Nicomedia like a fierce gale, its waves battering the various forces in the northern regions of the Azure Continent. Rising mysteriously from the wilderness southeast of Nicomedia, it swiftly seized the heart of chaos—the Leon region—and brought order to it. The fierce and brutal half-orcs now knelt obediently at its feet. If this only surprised the noble lords who disdained the remote lands, then the opening of the Catalonia River route and the capture of Bruce Fortress clearly indicated that this illegitimate noble was no ordinary figure.

The fall of Homer drew everyone’s attention. This usurper, who had overthrown his direct lord, proudly declared himself one of the four heirs to the kingdom’s leadership. Moreover, the Southern Seas faction even made him a vassal of the Kingdom of Iberia—such turns of events were truly astonishing. Less than a year later, this man suddenly launched an attack on Poznan and signed a baffling territorial transfer agreement with its ruler, completely ignoring traditional laws, with members of the Romanov family somehow involved as well.

If worldly power struggles weren’t enough to capture attention, this noble lord, allegedly tied to the Dark Forces, was a thorn in the side of the righteous. Although the Battle of Marco largely contained the spread of news, those well-informed sensed that this battle was closely linked to Lord Homer. Considering the Inquisition’s repeated incursions south, the mysteries behind it sparked endless speculation.

What kind of person was he? Many were deeply intrigued by this figure, whose identity was both complex and awkward. They wondered if there were deeper hidden forces manipulating or supporting him. If not, how could such an obscure individual shock the northern continent like a comet in just a few years? Where could the forces controlling him come from? Orks? The Barbarian Alliance? Or the Dark Forces from the south?

Many watched breathlessly as the chaos in this region unfolded, pondering how to deal with such a suddenly emerging force. Poznan—Homer—Caucasus, and even Flanders beyond the Cordillera Desert—this intertwined network of real and imagined threats put pressure on many.

With hands behind his back, Komer stood quietly by the window.

The cool weather in Poznan is ideal for those who want to escape the heat of the south. The cool winds from the Mogan Wasteland can greatly alleviate the heat here, but in winter, the bitterly cold winds force people to stay indoors. Komer doesn’t like regions with such extreme temperature swings—the scorching midday sun is almost blinding, while the coolness at night requires people to cover themselves with thin blankets.

The Bear Head flag has been raised at the fortress in Haselt, north and south of Poznan, while the double eagle flag of the Heine family has been lowered, signaling that the entire Poznan region is now under their control. The sugar beets of the Szczecin region, its abundant oak resources, the flax of the Tylins region, and the wool from the direct jurisdiction of Poznan city are all things Homer lacks. Groningen, the central city of the Szczecin region, has always been the most important transit port in the Northern Abyssal Sea. Its location, extending far eastward, makes it more convenient for connecting with the colonies in the northern regions of the Vast Continent than Cyprus. Over half of the fiscal revenue from the entire Poznan region comes from the Szczecin region, while Groningen’s customs revenue accounts for over 80% of the Szczecin region’s total income.

It’s a pity the orcs didn’t fall for his trap; otherwise, half of Silesia would have fallen into his hands. But time won’t wait too long. For Komer, the fat already within reach is just a matter of method and timing.

Hoffman and Kakiya both expressed welcome at his taking actual control of the Poznan region. Although they opposed Lenta’s continued presence in Poznan, it seems that now it doesn’t matter much. He won’t act according to their wishes—everything must align with his own plans and desires.

“Why not advance further into Silesia? You told me it would also become your possession!”

“I’d like to, but circumstances have changed. Many things don’t change just because of my will. I’m not a god.”

“But you said Poznan would fall into your hands, and you did it.”

“Is Poznan not enough to satisfy your greed? Your Highness, greed is an unforgivable original sin. Remember my warnings, and remember your promises to me.” Komer didn’t turn around. The strong scent coming from behind him told him without a doubt who it was.

“The Silesians can’t stop your army at all. Their weakness is obvious to everyone, and the Poles hate them deeply. Now is the perfect opportunity—we must not stop!”
Lenta had unconsciously tied her own fate to Komer’s. The use of “we” was an unconscious sign, and it amused Komer as well—since when had he and she become one in fate?
“Your Highness, the situation isn’t as simple as you think. Controlling Poznan has already angered many people. If we go further, it might provoke even stronger resistance.” Komer didn’t want to explain too much. Princess Lenta’s obsession with power was beyond imagination, just like her sister Kakiya, forcing Komer to remind her not to cross the line.
After a moment of silence, Lenta seemed to realize she had gotten too excited and softened her tone. “I just think it would be a shame to miss this opportunity.”
Komer, who had turned around, gave her a mysterious look. “Haste makes waste. What belongs to us will never escape.”
Lenta’s green eyes flickered. “Do you mean…?”
“I said nothing. I only said anything is possible.” Komer smiled. This princess was truly eager. Did she think she could still reach Silesia? Or did she have even grander plans?
Seeing Lenta hesitating, Komer changed the subject. “Enough, Your Highness. Poznan is already large enough. Szczecin, Tylins, and Poznan itself—these three places, though not as great as Homer, can still be among the kingdom’s four major territories. I have no intention of saying more. I just hope you’ll seize this opportunity well.”
“What are you trying to say?” Lenta sensed something.
“Our interests are intertwined. The Anson family is now an outsider to both of us. Do you understand?”
Lenta’s breathing quickened. Her gaze became tender yet mixed with complex emotions. “Komer, do you know what you’re saying?”
“Of course, Countess of Poznan.” Suddenly, Komer boldly wrapped his arms around her full waist and pulled her close. Their eyes met, and the charming smile on Komer’s lips made Lenta’s heart race.
“Komer, don’t do this…”

“Why can’t it be like this? Is there really anyone who would interfere with me at a time like this?” Comer’s fingers slid down along the other person’s bare cleavage, forcing down the bra that covered most of their chest, revealing two full, firm breasts. The rosy nipples seemed to emit an enticing sweetness in the air. Her breathing quickened. Lenta didn’t know how to respond to his reckless behavior, but the proud instincts of the Romanov family seemed useless in front of him. Struggling to break free, she didn’t realize that her resistance only fueled his endless desire to conquer her. Those plump breasts bounced in the air. Comer grabbed one of them, and Lenta screamed as her body went limp. He twisted his fingers around her already slightly swollen nipple. Comer took two deep breaths before suppressing his desire. Letting go, he gently adjusted her clothes, returning to his usual calm demeanor. “I’m sorry, I got a little carried away.” “Oh, no, we probably don’t need to say that. I just think the situation isn’t quite appropriate,” Lenta said, her voice dry. Was this what she had gained with her body? Humiliation? Pain? It didn’t feel like either. She didn’t seem too upset by Comer’s rough behavior. Though it was her first time being so intimate with a man, she felt she was prepared for anything. What she had expected to happen didn’t occur, and feelings of tension and unfamiliarity were washed away by the joy that had surrounded her these past days. “Lenta, I think we do have some similarities, don’t you?” Comer asked. “Mm, I’ve noticed that for a while. It’s just that we have different identities and different opportunities, so we follow different paths. But it seems we end up at the same place—like trajectories flying in the air that unknowingly intersect again,” Lenta reflected. “That’s good. I hope our paths can remain brighter and longer in the night sky of history.”