In the distance, a formidable fortress loomed, its towering walls rising 20 meters into the air. The battle-scarred walls stood as a testament to the stronghold’s unyielding history, untouched by the passage of time.
Atop the walls, gold-ranked knights clad in gleaming half-body plate armor manned their posts, their spears at the ready.
These elite warriors were a rare sight in other domains, and their presence only added to the stronghold’s formidable reputation.
As Asher and his companions approached, they beheld the fortress perched atop a hill, its pavement blocks leading up to the gates, the only visible entrance.
The walls were crowned with pillars, upon which ballistas and trebuchets stood at attention, flanked by armored men whose polished armor reflected the sunlight like a thousand tiny mirrors.
This was the epicenter of the Ashbourne Dukedom, a small but fiercely protected stronghold, home to a mere 60,000 people.
“We’re home,” Asher whispered, his voice tinged with nostalgia. His eyes grew gentle, misty with memories of laughter and tears, triumphs and tribulations, all of which had unfolded within the familiar walls of the stronghold.
For a moment, the weariness of their journey seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of comfort and belonging.
In the distance, beyond the stronghold’s imposing walls, the ash mountains rose majestically, their rugged peaks stretching towards the sky like slumbering stone giants.
The mountains’ slopes were cloaked in a verdant mantle of trees, a vibrant contrast to the somber, ash-hued rocks that gave the range its name.
The sight was a poignant reminder that this stronghold occupied a unique and sacred place, nestled at the threshold of a realm both beautiful and unforgiving.
Asher and his entourage galloped across the lush plain, once a blackened expanse of corrupted soil, now a poignant reminder of the days these lands were scarred and known as the wastelands.
Sighting them, a soldier leaned in, squinting for a better view. His eyes burst wide, his face flushing as he veered to his comrade, words of high volume flying out of his mouth.
“His Lordship is here!”
His comrade’s pupils shook. “What?”
“Open the gates, it’s His Lordship, the duke himself!!”
In an instant, the shut gate swung open, and the crowd watched in awe as Asher rode into the city, flanked by an unprecedented 200 Adeptus Paladins.
Though Asher had dispatched paladins to various parts of the domain, including Nineveh, the treasure house of the Dukedom, their presence was well-known.
Some protected Lady Mary, while others guarded the sacred hall and the vault. When the paladins received an upgrade, those stationed in these key locations were also elevated, their majestic appearance sparking whispers throughout the town.
People marveled at the sight of a single Adeptus Paladin effortlessly pushing open the gates of Nineveh for Lady Mary.
Now, as they beheld 200 of these legendary warriors, their astonishment was palpable.
Despite their relatively short tenure, the Adeptus Paladins had already become the stuff of legend within the Ashbourne army.
“It’s the paladins!”
People exclaimed at the grand entrance, some gawking at them until they were out of their sight.
The news spread like wildfire, outracing even the swiftest horsemen. By the time Asher rode into the castle walls, he found Kelvin waiting before the entrance, a luxurious fur-padded coat draped over his broad shoulders.
A warm, gentle smile creased his face, etching wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.
“Back home,” he said, his breath misting in the chilly air, billowing outward in a wispy cloud that evoked the mythical dragon’s breath.
Asher descended from Sirius, approached him and threw his arms around Kelvin’s shoulders. “I’ve missed you, old man,” he said with a light chuckle.
“I’ve grown several decades older after you began to run away from your duties. Please, sit in one place and let me do the job of taking care of you.”
Asher gently patted Kelvin’s back, his smile widening. “You handle it better than I. My skills lie on the battlefield and making allies.”
As Kelvin trailed behind Asher into the castle, the biting chill of the outside air gave way to the warm, golden glow of the parlour.
The room was ablaze with light, as candles, chandeliers, and wall-mounted holders cast a kaleidoscope of warm, flickering shadows across the space. The sudden transition from cold to warmth enveloped Kelvin like a gentle hug, immediately dispelling the chill from his bones.
“Is the warmth enough?” He asked, his gaze drawn to the fireplace, where orange flames danced and flickered within the brick confines.
“It is.” Asher sat on a sofa, placing his swords on the table.
“Euodias still serves you.” Kelvin gazed at the sword sheathed into an iconic scabbed that looked like metal.
It wasn’t flexible like the mainstream leather scabbards.
Asher smiled wryly. “Unfortunately, her servitude has come to an end. She met her end in combat against a dragon.”
“That’s…” Kelvin tried speaking but ended up sighing heavily. “At least it was against the most formidable beasts known to man.”
Asher’s gaze locked onto Kelvin’s, his eyes filled with a deep, abiding concern. “Euodias has performed her duty until the end,” he said, his voice low and reflective. “But what about you, Kelvin? How are you faring? The weight of all that has transpired must be bearing down upon you.” Asher’s words were laced with empathy.
Kelvin scowled. “So you know what I’m going through on your behalf! The slaves, 45,000 of them currently, are still in settlements, barely surviving the winter. I had Baron Flameheart feed, clothe and give them warmth in order to increase their loyalty and not cause a riot. We don’t have the power to suppress a population of 45,000 instantly.”
He heaved. “We need to move them to a better place.”
“We will.” Asher comforted firmly. “Send word, they should be moved to the shores. By the time they arrive, the city ship would be ready. Besides, we have four dragon carcasses on their way here. We’ll use it to make a feast for both the Frontline Legion and Grand Aegis Legion.”
Kelvin’s eyebrows furrowed, his expression changing into a confused one.
“You want to feed over 40,000 men with prized dragon carcasses? Why would you want to do that?”
Asher’s gaze burned with intensity. “You see, Kelvin, there’s a chance that this could alter their physical form from that of a knight to a beast-like physiology.”
He paused, his eyes gleaming with conviction. “If we succeed, our knights will possess unparalleled strength, surpassing even that of the bear beastmen. Their skin will be tougher than the reinforced hide of a rhino, their vision sharper, and their stamina unmatched.” Asher’s voice rose, filled with passion.
“With such formidable might, I firmly believe that our Dukedom will finally be able to declare its independence, and we’ll be well-equipped to handle the consequences that follow.”
Kelvin shut his eyes. “You plan to use that special talent of yours?”
Asher responded with a resolute nod.
“Then we have to gather the cooks in the domain, summon the soldiers from both ends and have the city guards take their places instead. I believe with this we would be able to withstand Prince Aaron’s rage.”
Asher raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” His expression became solemn when he saw Kelvin’s grave look.
Kelvin’s voice faltered as he spoke, his lips trembling with each word. “His Highness sent a letter… requesting that your sister, Mary, be betrothed to him as his wife.” Kelvin’s eyes darted nervously towards Asher, but he pressed on, his voice cracking. “According to the letter, he promises to treat her with the finest luxuries the land has to offer…” Kelvin’s entire body began to shudder, as if the very air around him had grown colder.
And it had.
Asher’s presence seemed to draw the warmth out of the room, leaving only an icy chill in its wake. Frost crept up the window frames, etched itself into the walls, and seeped into the floorboards. The flames in the fireplace, the chandelier, and the holders flickered once, twice, and then died, plunging the room into an eerie, cold darkness.
Asher’s voice sliced through Kelvin like a dagger, leaving him breathless and trembling. “What did you say Aaron did?” The words hung in the air like a challenge, and Kelvin felt his heart racing in response.
He jerked, his veins bulging in his pale hands as he struggled to contain his body. “H-He… Lord Aaron himself declared his intentions in the grand hall,” Kelvin stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“The Lords and Ladies, allies and foes alike, all heard the news.”
Despite the suffocating chill that seemed to seep into his very bones, Kelvin forced out the final words:
“He did it to ensure that rejecting him would be akin to slapping the imperial family in the face. Not even the independent lords would dare.”
The air seemed to vibrate with tension as Asher’s icy gaze held Kelvin captive.
But then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the chill receded, and the flames roared back to life, casting a warm glow over the room.
It was as if the icy interlude had never occurred, leaving Kelvin shaken and gasping for breath.
