Seven days later, in the wooden house in the valley.
“My Lord, Emma is much better now. Thank you for saving my entire family. May God bless you!” Scott, with his son and daughter, stood together in front of the wooden house, deeply kneeling and bowing to Art, who was standing at the doorway eating gruel from a wooden bowl.
Art slowly grew accustomed to this kind of deference from others.
“Hmm, Scott, if you wish, you can stay here. Later, Cooper can help you build a wooden house.” Art had a good impression of this family.
Scott, with his weathered face, was a resourceful yet honest farmer. He was a true man, capable of leading his family safely from distant Vilno to this place, and taking on the responsibility of a husband and father in times of crisis.
Ron was a sturdy young man, courageous and clever. He had always shared his father's heavy burdens and knew how to care for his seriously ill mother and young sister.
Camille was a lively little sprite. After spending a week in the Unnamed Valley, she regained her usual vivacity, calling Old Cooper “Grandpa” constantly, which the old man loved very much. When she saw Art, the little girl would also curtsy gracefully, making a perfect bow.
Emma had been seriously ill. After two days of unconsciousness in Old Cooper’s warm wooden house, she woke up. Art hadn't had much contact with this poor woman, but from Ron and Camille’s behavior, he could guess that she was also a virtuous wife and loving mother.
“My Lord, may I ask you for something?” Old Cooper finished tidying the dishes and walked over to Art, who was wiping his longsword.
“What is it? Speak,” Art continued to wipe the sword blade with a rag smeared with animal fat.
“Yesterday, Scott came to me. He said he wanted me to ask you to take Ron with you as an attendant.” Cooper paused, choosing his words carefully.
Art stopped and looked up at the old man.
“My Lord, I know this request is a bit much. Ron is just a farmer’s son and not qualified to be an attendant for a noble. But Scott and I can handle the farm work, so Ron isn’t needed. Emma can also cook and feed the pigs, sheep, and mules once she recovers, and you need a clever helper when you go hunting…” Old Cooper quickly explained.
“I don’t look down on a farmer’s son. Besides, I am no longer a noble. I am just a hunter who lives by hunting.”
Art thought for a moment. Perhaps having an extra helper by his side would be very good for the days to come.
“What does Ron himself want?” Art lowered his head and continued to wipe.
“It was Ron who begged his father to come to me~” The old man, sensing the softening in Art's tone, quickly added.
Art ran his thumb over the softly glowing sword edge, testing its sharpness, and said, “Have Ron come in later.” With that, he picked up another longsword and began to wipe it.
At this moment, Ron and Scott, father and son, were anxiously waiting outside the wooden house. Ron’s face lit up when he heard the old man call him inside, and he quickly entered the house.
Looking at the young Lord seated on the wooden chair, Ron felt an uncontrollable tension and suppression in his heart. His hawk-like gaze was like a sharp arrow, seemingly seeing through everything, able to penetrate one’s heart. His dark brown pupils were unfathomably deep, suffocating. This feeling made him fearful, yet he couldn’t help but want to get closer, which was why he kept begging his father to plead with Old Butler…
Old Cooper didn't know the thoughts stirring in Ron's mind at this moment. Seeing the foolish child standing there blankly, he quickly moved over and tugged at his sleeve.
Ron came back to his senses, bowed deeply to Art, and said, “My Lord, please let me be your attendant.”
In his nervousness, Ron completely forgot all the words Old Butler had taught him, such as “follow a wise master, be loyal and devoted.”
“Tomorrow, come with me into the mountains to hunt deer.” Art thoroughly assessed the sturdy young man before him. Without any unnecessary words, he straightforwardly told him to accompany him to hunt deer.
“Cooper, prepare a short knife and a short spear for him.” Art instructed Old Cooper.
………………
Autumn was already very deep, yet the Unnamed Valley was still lush and green.
Art supported Ron as they walked back through the dense forest. Ron’s clothes were torn in several places by branches and thorns, and his face had a few scratches oozing small beads of blood.
Back at the wooden house, Cooper, who had finished weeding the wheat field, was discussing building a small wooden house for Scott’s family. Seeing Art supporting Ron into the yard, both of them quickly surrounded them and asked, “My Lord (Ron), what happened?”
Art handed Ron over to Scott and said, “He’s fine, just a few scratches and a twisted ankle.”
The incident originated that morning. Art took Ron to a dense forest in the northeast of the valley, where fallow deer often appeared. Fallow deer are very sensitive, so Art smeared grass juice and deer droppings on Ron and himself to mask their scent. Ron performed well while quietly searching in the dense forest.
They found a doe with a gray back and white belly in a low-lying area. They crept forward, step by step, bending low, quietly approaching the fallow deer. Just as they were about twenty paces away, and Art was about to nock an arrow, a forest wolf suddenly darted out from the side and lunged at the doe. Originally, this was not considered dangerous; forest wolves are not desolate wolves, and they do not actively attack “two-legged beasts.” Moreover, the fact that it lunged at the fallow deer indicated it hadn't even noticed Art and Ron.
However, the sudden turn of events startled Ron greatly. He completely forgot Art’s warnings before entering the mountain, screamed, and then frantically ran away. Forest wolves are most wary of other animals observing them while hunting, so the forest wolf abandoned the doe and rushed towards Art…
After firing two arrows in quick succession and striking the forest wolf once with his sword, Art finally scared the creature away. When Art, drenched in a cold sweat from the shock, found Ron, he had already fallen behind a rock…
“Ron, you should stay with your father.” Art left these words, took Ron’s short spear and short knife, and entered the wooden house.
Ron lowered his head deeply, feeling overwhelmed with shame.
Life in the valley, with the arrival of Scott’s family, broke the previous silence, but it also added vitality and life to the valley. Old Cooper spent his days with Scott, either tending to the wheat field or cutting timber in the mountains to build a wooden house for their family. Emma, after recovering from her illness, did not disappoint Art. She spent her days with Camille, washing clothes, cooking, and tending to the livestock in the yard. Art, meanwhile, devoted all his energy to surveying the valley's terrain. His current funds could support the few people in the valley comfortably for one or two years.
But now, he clearly had longer-term plans.
………………
Inside the valley, there was a scene of peaceful busyness, but outside the valley, war raged on.
As winter set in, Duke Vladis’s National Guard and Duke Witold’s Northern Expeditionary Army engaged in an unprecedented battle near Aosta. Both sides successively committed nearly ten thousand troops, engaging in a seesaw struggle for the castles, villages, and various fortresses in the outskirts of Aosta.
Half a month ago, a unit of the Northern Expeditionary Army occupied a small castle named Naron, north of Aosta, capturing Baron Soloebul, the castle’s lord. With the fall of Naron, the Provence army’s northern supply line was cut. Subsequently, the castles and fortresses southwest of Naron and south of Aosta also fell one after another. Duke Vladis, losing strategic depth and logistical support, consolidated his troops into Aosta City, where grain and supplies were stored, and the Northern Expeditionary Army began to besiege Aosta.
While the Northern Expeditionary Army was besieging Aosta, Duke Witold handed command of his army to his deputy. He himself returned to southern Lombardy, using his substantial wealth to lobby the South Land nations, hiring mercenary armies to assist in the war, and continuously sending more troops along the Lamel Mountains to Aosta.
At this time, the Grand Duchy of Provence was already riddled with holes. Once Aosta fell, the enemy would expand westward along Aosta. At that time, the stable situation that the southern front had painstakingly maintained would be broken, and Provence would lose more than half of its territory.
Inside Aosta City, the municipal hall had now become Duke Vladis’s temporary palace and military tent.
Pfft~
A thick glob of phlegm flew into the fire in front of the armchair. Vladis shifted his buttocks, adjusting his sitting posture to the most comfortable. He looked up at the noble officers seated on either side of the fire, cleared his throat heavily, and said, “Don’t be so quiet, speak up.”
An Earl sitting to Vladis’s left stood up and said loudly in a rough voice, “My Lord, the enemy has only been besieging the city for a little over ten days. There is enough grain in the city to last at least ten months, and morale is still high. There’s nothing to worry about; we just need to hold Aosta.”
No sooner had the Earl’s voice faded than a middle-aged Baron with thick eyebrows, large eyes, and sharp features at the end of the fire stood up and retorted, “My Lord, I disagree with Lord Rafal’s opinion. Since we retreated to Aosta half a month ago, the surrounding distant villages, castles, and various fortresses have successively fallen. Now we have lost our rear supply line, and there are no active forces around us that can harass or attack the besieging enemy. Currently, it seems we can hold out for several months, but our grain will eventually run out, and morale will eventually decline. Furthermore, recent scout reports indicate that Duke Witold has returned to Lombardy. He must have gone back to gather more troops to besiege us, or he intends to trap us here and then take the opportunity to launch a fierce attack on the southwest front. Therefore, I believe taking this opportunity to proactively attack the enemy’s weaker points is the best choice.”
Vladis nodded to the middle-aged Baron.
“Baron Belian, I highly agree with your idea. If we have no strategic depth, once Witold sends more troops to forcefully attack Aosta, we will only be able to bitterly defend Aosta, and if the enemy besieges us for a long time, our food and supplies will inevitably be exhausted. To restore our depth and establish a stronghold outside Aosta, I order you to select fifty men from the entire army, plus your own hundred men, to capture and hold a castle fortress near Aosta within one month, using this castle fortress as a stronghold for the Osta War Zone.” Vladis approved the insightful Baron’s opinion.
After assigning this task, Vladis turned to his Deputy Prime Minister, Valis, who was seated on his right, and asked, “Valis, tell me about the situation in Burgundy County to the north.”
The Deputy Prime Minister, with a simple and honest face, cleared his throat and slowly said, “Since the fall of Vilno, Lombardy has sent three groups of people to Burgundy County. All three groups were intercepted by us, but one group had a person slip through. The cavalry we sent to intercept them are also missing, but news from the north confirms that the one who slipped through did not reach Besançon. From the captured letters, we know that Lombardy wants to unite with Burgundy County to launch a pincer attack on our Provence from north and south. That old fox Witold promised that once all of Provence is occupied, he will cede five of our northern towns and a large tract of land to Burgundy County.”
“Has Burgundy made any unusual moves?”
“Not yet, but according to Hawk Eye’s report, currently, a small number of lords in the southern region of Burgundy County are gathering troops, but primarily to guard against our refugees fleeing north and to clear out the increasingly rampant bandits.”
“Good, continue to monitor the situation in Burgundy. Valis, I order you to go to the Court of Burgundy as my Special Envoy and have a secret discussion with Marquis Ivrea.”
