Chapter 43:
There’s a Dragon?
THE CLOUDS OF WAR hung low over Henituse territory. While the Western Continent had been outwardly peaceful ever since Rowoon’s proclamation, that was merely the calm before the storm.
In Weston, home to Henituse Castle, the frightened citizens hunched in on themselves. Whether they walked alone or in groups of three or four, they all wore dark expressions. Worry, dread, and something more lurked in the contours of their faces.
One man, who’d been walking with a friend, pulled his jacket tight against the chill as he looked around. He could see the newly fortified wall, looming tall and thick, with soldiers and knights milling about the ramparts. Then his gaze slid skyward. “I can’t believe someone so feeble is accomplishing so much.”
His friend stopped and looked up as well. The imposing wall surrounded the entirety of Weston, but even that wall couldn’t reach the heavens.
As the citizens stared at that winter sky blanketed by gray clouds, fear wormed its way into their hearts. They couldn’t believe wyverns would soon burst through that gloomy curtain. Yet something captured their attention even more than the cloudy sky: a silver light.
Though Weston wasn’t especially large, it was still impressive that the faint silver shield enveloped the whole city. The other emotion painted on the citizens’ faces, along with their dread and their anxiety, was relief.
“They say he coughs up blood whenever he uses the shield, don’t they?”
“That’s right,” the man’s friend replied as casually as possible. Eyes fixed overhead, he said, “It’s already been three days.”
Now that Albert had exposed the wyverns and claimed Rowoon would come out victorious, the kingdom’s northern territories faced the greatest danger. The northeastern region in particular was the most likely target.
The enemy kingdom of Norland was on the other side of the Dark Forest. Because Henituse territory was the closest to Norland, its people were on tenterhooks. They had no idea when war would break out. Yet ever since the night of the proclamation, Weston had been covered by a silver light. The shield’s shine hadn’t wavered for a second over the past three days.
“Won’t using a shield that big make him faint? Why doesn’t he just wait and activate it when those northern bastards get here?” the man asked, and his friend shook his head.
“Don’t you get it? He doesn’t want to see anyone or any area of the territory come to harm whatsoever.”
The man couldn’t fault his friend for that. One glance at the sky told him it was true: Even the towering walls couldn’t stop the wyverns, and only a few mages in Rowoon were capable of attacks on airborne enemies. That was why the frail Lord Cale was overusing his Ancient Power.
As the man looked on, deeply moved, one of his other friends added flippantly, “And to think you called him a lout.”
“Hey!” the man blurted out, rounding on him. “Don’t say that!”
“I asked around,” a third friend put in, “and I found out he used to throw bottles at gangsters! How is that degenerate behavior?”
“Didn’t he break stuff too? I heard he even busted down some store doors.”
“Ahem… Well…”
He had no rebuttal. In all honesty, Lord Cale was indeed a lout. No one could erase or change the past, but that was no reason to dismiss his current sacrifice.
“He must have come to his senses. He’s our Lord Cale now!”
“You’re right about that. Lord Henituse is a good person, so his son must’ve picked up some good habits from him.”
The man nodded his agreement as he glanced at the notices plastered all around Weston. He was one of the few citizens who could read. The message was as follows:
Henituse Castle will provide all citizens with food until peace returns to the territory.
Indeed, the Henituses had opened their storehouse to the public. They had such plentiful stock that they’d provided no end date other than peacetime.
The man turned his eyes to Weston’s main gate. Droves of citizens had flooded into the city after hearing about the silver shield. Though the wyvern knight brigade would no doubt target Weston rather than nearby villages, people had chosen to gather under the local lord’s protection.
Furthermore, wagons full of food from the Henituse storehouse were being ushered to different parts of the territory, some also carrying farming tools. While distributing tools to the citizens, the count had declared, “We’ll need to start working the land in the spring.” This spread like wildfire, and in the minds of his people, it carried a deeper message. After the war, when late winter turned to spring, they would be able to return to their normal lives.
The man returned his gaze to the sky. “I hear he’s working hard even though he’s in pain.”
I pray he’s doing well.
Cale Henituse—the one serving as the military commander of the northeastern region—kept the shield up despite his apparent struggle. This rumor had spread beyond Henituse territory and the northeastern region, to every corner of Rowoon.