Chapter 1031: The King of Graycastle (I)
When the noon bell rang across the City of Glow, Horford Quinn set down his quill and looked southwest.
The coronation of Prince Roland had not merely spread through Graycastle — it had crossed borders. According to the flyers being distributed in the streets, this was the very moment the young man’s crown was being placed.
Everything was happening so fast.
Horford found it difficult to accept that the new king was several years younger than his daughter Andrea. And yet Roland had already secured his throne and extended his reach into a neighboring country.
After the war against the Moya family, Roland Wimbledon’s name was known to every noble in the City of Glow. The rumors had begun in certain underground Chambers of Commerce, then spread through the Kingdom of Dawn like fire through dry grass. Three years ago, the man had been nothing — an insignificant lord of a remote border town, one the Wimbledon family had considered beneath their notice. His rise was wrapped in mystery. Much of his behavior was as unpredictable as his ascent: the coronation alone illustrated his eccentricity perfectly. He was, in all likelihood, the only king in history who had chosen to hold the ceremony during the Months of Demons.
Kings with such natures tended to emerge in times of chaos. With the Battle of Divine Will looming, Horford sensed the world trembling beneath its own weight.
“Your Majesty.” The guard’s voice cut through his thoughts. “A letter from Sir Hill Fawkes.”
“Really?” His gaze returned to the desk. “Open it. Read it to me.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Your Majesty. Those two words still worked on him after twenty years of using them toward someone else. He had been the Hand of the King for two decades, had spoken that address countless times — and yet the moment it turned in his direction, his chest filled with something he was not proud of. A man ought to have more discipline. He did not.
Still, he should congratulate the new King of Graycastle.
Horford understood, without sentiment, that his own throne had been built on Roland’s support. It was not Sir Quinn’s swords that the great nobles feared — it was the deafening thunder that could raze a city whole, the weapon Roland commanded. That was what kept his authority unchallenged. The surest way to hold it was to stand beside Graycastle, especially now, when everything was about to change.
“The letter says Graycastle has dispatched a mining expedition to the border of our country. They request your assistance.”
“Inform Earl Luoxi and tell him to receive the expedition with the knightage,” Horford said immediately. “Inform all local lords in the region as well. Make certain the expedition gets what it needs.”
“As you command, Your Majesty!”
Archduke Island, off the coast of the Kingdom of Wolfheart.
The town sat well beyond the reach of the Months of Demons, but the wet cold coming off the sea made it look desolate regardless. The muddy streets were nearly empty, except near the docks.
Beside a warehouse, an open-air bar had drawn a crowd of perhaps a hundred — sailors and travelers seeking cheap wine and a little warmth. Most came and went. These had stayed.
A woman in coarse-fabric clothing moved toward the gathering.
“Farrina?” Someone behind her whispered. “What are you doing? We should go.”
“Demons,” she said.
“What?” The man’s expression shifted.
“Someone is talking about demons.” She kept moving. “Just a moment, Joe.”
He hesitated. Then, quietly: “Yes… Your Holiness.”
“This isn’t an order.” She waved it off and pressed closer to hear.
At the center of the crowd, a merchant was holding court: “I’ve never seen such things in my life. Wings wider than a man. Tusks bigger than your arm. City walls mean nothing to them!” He spoke louder as more faces turned toward him. “And that’s not the worst. There’s another kind — they look like men, but faster and stronger. Their spears go through armor like it isn’t there. Mock me if you want, but I nearly fouled myself when I saw one.”
The crowd murmured.
“Are they truly invulnerable?”
“Can’t touch them if they’re in the air.”
“Rubbish.” A skeptical voice pushed back. “Demons? Can you even tell the difference between a demon and a demonic beast?”
“Go to Hermes Plateau and look for yourself.” Another voice laughed. “Don’t freeze your nerve off, friend.”
“What do you know?” the merchant snapped. “Prince Roland Wimbledon himself described them! The man has lived in the Western Region for years. Do you think he can’t tell the difference? Demonic beasts are dumb, roving packs. Demons have armies. Have you ever seen animals coordinate an assault on a city, wave after wave?”
“If that’s true, how did Graycastle drive them back?”
“You wouldn’t understand it if I told you. But suddenly — thunder, rolling up from the city wall and splitting the sky.” He sprayed the crowd with enthusiasm. “The demons were blasted to pieces. Blood all over the ground. One of them fell right in front of my hotel — hole in its chest the size of a bowl. God knows how they did it.”
“Even a ballista can’t manage that. By that account, isn’t the prince something like a god?”
“Hah! If he isn’t, how do you think the church got wiped out?”
Farrina’s hands had curled into fists.
Joe placed a hand on her shoulder and said nothing.
“I know.” She drew a breath and let her fingers open. “What do you think?”
“The Bloody Moon hasn’t risen yet. Demons shouldn’t have reached the Barbarian Lands.” Joe paused. “But what he describes matches the Holy Book. It doesn’t sound fabricated. I… don’t know.” He lowered his voice. “We have nothing—”
“Nothing to do with them.” She finished it for him. “You’re right. We have to take care of ourselves first.”
After the acting Pope Tucker Thor’s death, Farrina had followed his final orders — retreating from New Holy City with what remained of the Judgement Army. Her plan had been to rebuild on Archduke Island, where the Bloodfang Association had once made its stronghold. A fertile land, remote enough to offer shelter.
But the news of Hermes’ fall had reached the island before they did. The local bishop had taken it as his opening. He had turned against the Church, made himself Earl of Archduke Island, and demonstrated his commitment to that new title by hanging the Church’s messengers from the city gate.
The betrayal gutted the Judgement Army. Half of them had left. For six months, Farrina had lived a clandestine life on the island and accomplished nothing. If the Church could not be rebuilt, could not draw new believers — this was the end of it.
The only path was to make an example of the traitor. The only problem: he had kept his God’s Punishment Warriors.
It would be a hard fight.
“Let’s go.” Farrina pulled her hood forward and glanced back at the bar.
The merchant was still going: “There are all manner of remarkable things there! Iron ships as black and huge as hills. A building taller than the Tower of Babel. Once you’ve seen them, you don’t forget.”
“Tell us everything! I’ll buy you another drink.”
“Was all of it built by this Prince Roland?”
“Of course! Though you can’t call him Highness anymore. By the time I left Neverwinter, he’d already announced the coronation. The date — let me think — today!”
“Today? He’s king now?”
“That’s right!” The merchant raised his glass. “Since it’s his coronation day, let’s drink to him. To the King of Graycastle!”
“To the King of Graycastle!” The crowd echoed, glasses lifting.
The King of Graycastle. Farrina’s lip curled. Be whatever you like. The Battle of Divine Will would reduce the world to ash whether he wore a crown or not. They would meet again — in whatever waited at the end of all of this. The only question was who arrived there first: her, if she failed against the traitor; or him, when his turn came.
King Roland Wimbledon, she thought, and there was nothing behind it but cold reckoning.
Chapter 1031: The King of Graycastle (I)
Translator: TransN Editor: TransN
Meanwhile…
In the City of Glow
Hearing the noon bell ring, Horford Quinn put down his quill and looked toward the southwestern.
The news of the coronation of Prince Roland had not only spread throughout the whole of Graycastle, but also to the Kingdom of Dawn. According to the flyers distributed on the streets, this should be the very moment the young man was crowned.
Everything was happening so fast.
Horford found it hard to believe that the new king was several years younger than his daughter Andrea. Roland had now secured his throne and even extended his influence to the neighboring country.
After the war against the Moya Family, the name of Roland Wimbledon was known by every noble in the king’s city of the Kingdom of Dawn. In the beginning, the rumors about this extraordinary prince were just circulated among some underground Chambers of Commerce, but news of him soon spread throughout his country like wildfire.
Three years ago, Prince Roland had just been the insignificant lord of a remote town. Nobody in the Wimbledon Family had thought he would become the sovereign of the state in the end.
His sudden rise was shrouded in mystery. A lot of his behavior was as unpredictable and bizarre as his unpresidented ascendancy. The coronation ceremony, for example, perfectly illustrated the eccentricity in King Roland’s character. He was probably the only king in history who chose to hold the ceremony in the Months of Demons.
Kings with such unique characters typically emerged when the country was in a state of chaos or experiencing a civil strife. With the looming Battle of Divine Will, Horford felt that the world would soon undergo drastic changes.
“Your Majesty,” The guard said, breaking his train of thought. “A letter from Sir Hill Fawkes.”
“Really?” His eyes were back on his desk again. “Open it and read it to me.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
The word “Your Majesty” was indeed hypnotic. For the past 20 years, he had been the Hand of the King and had spoken those words countless times. Horford had thought he would be immune to the pleasant intoxication brought on by the sudden surge of power and prestige, but the truth was his heart swelled with pride every time somebody addressed him in this way.
Regardless, he should congratulate the new King of Graycastle.
Horford knew very well that his ascendancy to the throne was due to Roland’s support. It was not Sir Quinn’s swords those big nobles feared, but the deafening thunder that could raze the whole city that Roland commanded. That was why his authority had yet to be challenged. Horford knew the best way to secure his grip on power was to form an alliance with Graycastle, particularly at this moment when everything was about to change.
“The letter says that Graycastle has sent a mining expedition to the border of our country. They’re expecting your assistance and support.”
“Inform Earl Luoxi of this matter and tell him to greet the expedition with the knightage,” Horford instructed immediately. “Also, inform all the local lords in that region and make sure the expedition gets what they need.”
“As you command, Your Majesty!”
…
Archduke Island, off the coast of the Kingdom of Wolfheart.
Although the town was far outside the range of influence of the Months of Demons, the wet, cold sea breeze made the whole town look desolate and grim. Few people could be found on the muddy streets, except in the dock area.
Despite the weather, an open air bar next to a warehouse drew a lot of attention. The bar offered cheap wines to sailors and travelers who want to warm up a little. Most of the customers simply came and left, but now there were around 100 people gathered about the bar.
A woman wearing clothes made of coarse fabrics also approached the crowd.
“Farrina?”Someone whispered. “What are you dwelling on? We should go.”
“Demons,” she replied.
“What?” The latter’s expression changed.
“I heard somebody talking about the demons.” The woman called Farrina said. “Just a moment, Joe.”
The man hesitated. At length, he lowered his head and said in a hushed voice,” Yes… Your Holiness.”
“This isn’t an order.” Farrina waved her hand and inched closer, hoping to hear more of the conversation.
“I’ve never seen such gruesome monsters. They had wings wider than a man and tusks bigger than our arms. City walls are nothing to them!” A merchant boasted. Now the center of attention for the surrounding people, he spoke even louder, “But that isn’t the worst of it. There’s another type of demon who looks like a man, but much stronger. Their spears are faster and deadlier
than a balista. Armor is useless against them! I don’t mind if you laugh at me, but I almost peed my pants when I saw them.”
People in the crowd gasped.
“Is it true? Are they invulnerable?”
“We couldn’t lay a finger on them if they are flying in the sky.”
Still, some people looked incredulous.
“Get over with yourself! What demons — Do you even know the difference between demonic beasts and demons?”
“Go to Hermes Plateau and take a look! There are all kinds of monsters there. You seem to wet your pants easily. Don’t freeze your dick off.
“What do you know about it?!” The merchant cried indignantly. “That’s how Prince Roland Wimbledon described them! He’s been living in the Western Region for many years, and he doesn’t know the difference between demonic beasts and demons? Rubbish! Demonic beasts are just dumb, roving mobs, but demons have well-trained armies. Have you ever seen animals coordinate attacks on a city, one after another?”
“If what you said is true, how did Graycastle drive them off?”
“You wouldn’t be able to understand. The situation was precarious, but suddenly thunder roared up from the city wall and pierced the sky.” The merchant bragged, spraying his audience with spit. “The demons were instantly blasted to smithereens. Their blood splattered all over the ground. One of them fell right in front of the hotel I was staying at. There was a hole as big as a bowl in its chest. God knows how they did this!”
“Even ballista couldn’t do that. Based on what you said, isn’t the prince a God?”
“Haha. If he’s not, how do you think he wiped out the church?”
Hearing these words, Farrina’s hands currled into fists.
“…” Joe put his hand on Farrina’s shoulder and shook his head in silence.
“I know.” Farrina took a deep breath and unclenched her fists. “What do you think?”
“The Bloody Moon has not appeared yet. The demons shouldn’t have arrived at the Barbarian Lands. But his story fits the descriptions of the demons in the Holy Book. It doesn’t sound like a lie. I don’t… really know.” Joe paused for a while and said, “But we have nothing…”
“Nothing to do with them.” Farrina cut in. “You’re right, Joe. We have to take care of ourselves first.”
After the death of the acting Pope, Tucker Thor, Farrina had followed his orders, retreating from New Holy City along with the rest of the Judgement Army. She had planned to re-establish the church on Archduke Island in the Kingdom of Wolfheart where the witch organization, the Bloodfang Association, used to be. To prevent the resurgence of the witches, they had selected this fertile land as their new stronghold.
Yet to their great surprise, the news of the fall of Hermes had spread throughout the whole region. After learning the fall of Hermes, the bishop on Archduke Island had turned against the church and colluded with the nobles. Now, he was known as the Earl of Archduke Island. To secure his new title, he had even hanged the messengers from the church outside the city gate.
The unexpected betrayal was a heavy blow to the Judgement Army. Because of this, many of them had left the Judgement Army. Farrina had been living a clandestine life on Archduke Island for half a year and achieved nothing yet. If she could not re-establish the church and attract new believers, this would probably be the end of the church.
Without a doubt, the only way to save the church from this precarious situation was to execute the traitor as a deterrent.
The only problem was that the enemy also had a group of God’s Punishment Warriors.
It was going to be a bitter fight.
“Let’s get out of here.” Farrina pulled up her hood and cast a last glance at the bar.
The merchant rambled on. “There are a lot of interesting things there! For example, black iron ships as huge as hills, and a giant building taller than Tower of Babel. Once you see them, you’ll never forget!”
“C’mon, tell us everything. I’ll buy you another drink!”
“Were they all built by that Prince Roland?”
“Of course! But you can’t call him His Highness anymore. By the time I left Neverwinter, he had decided to ascend the throne! The date… let me see, right… it’s today!”
“Wow. So now he’s the King of Graycastle?”
“Haha, that’s right!” The merchant raised his wineglass and said, “Since it’s his coronation day, let’s make a toast. To the King of Graycastle!”
“To the King of Graycastle!” The crowd raised their glasses.
“The King of… Graycastle?” Farrina sneered. “Be whatever king you like. The Battle of Divine Will would eventually reduce the whole world to ashes. We’ll sooner or later meet again in the Hell. The only problem is who’ll go there first. If I fail to defeat the traitor, I’ll be there before you; If I win, then I’ll wait for the news of your fall right here.”
“King Roland Wimbledon,” thought Farrina savagely.