Chapter 1199: The Commotion in the Kingdom of Wolfheart
“Damn weather,” the baron Jean Bate muttered at the window. “Rain again.”
The Sedimentation Bay earned its rain — summer and fall brought storms you could set a calendar to. But the city had drainage channels cut into every street, and the roads here didn’t dissolve into mud the way they did in Broken Tooth Castle or Graystone City. The weather inconvenienced cargo transport. Little else.
Jean was less concerned about the weather than about himself.
The sky would clear when the storm had passed. His own mood had no such mechanism.
“Sir.” His clerk, Zum, picked his words carefully. “Have you decided how to reply to them?”
“Reply.” The baron turned the word over like something he’d found on the floor. “What would you say if you had to choose between the noose and the fire?”
Zum fell silent.
“You can’t choose either, right? So we keep them waiting.”
“But—” Zum stopped. He couldn’t find the end of the sentence.
Jean Bate understood perfectly well that waiting was a postponement, not a solution. The storm would come regardless of whether merchants wanted it. The problem would have to be faced regardless of whether he was ready.
It had all begun with the war against the church.
After the fall of the Kingdom of Wolfheart’s capital, dozens of lords announced simultaneously that they were the dead king’s bastard sons. These alleged heirs formed factions and broke each other over several seasons of fighting, until the kingdom settled into three territories: the Token Family in the northwest, the Redstone Gate Family in the south, the Tusk Family in the mountainous east.
The Tokens were too far away to bother Jean. The Redstone Gate and the Tusk had been competing for him ever since.
During the war’s earlier phase, his neutrality had made him rich. The two dukes depended on his port to move food and gold royals, and they’d been too occupied with swallowing smaller cities to turn their attention south. The Sedimentation Bay sat untouched in the middle — collecting fees from both sides.
That window was closing.
The Tokens had recently consolidated their hold over the Cage Mountain, and with that threat to their rear, the Tusk and the Redstone Gate had both fixed their gaze on the bay. Jean knew exactly what they were after. Whoever held his port could cut off the other’s supply lines. Each duke had already sent an ambassador with knights and mercenaries in tow — the polite word for it was lobbying.
His own forces were a patrol team and a handful of personal guards. They were adequate against pirates. Against mounted knights they were decoration.
Pledging fealty was not the problem. Jean would pledge to whoever sat the throne and lose no sleep over whether that person had the old king’s blood. The problem was that neither family held a decisive advantage. Siding with one meant the other would come for him. Without the port’s trade, the losing side would have to feed itself while the winning side accumulated resources; neither would accept that imbalance willingly. A war between them was inevitable. And without walls or a moat, the city could not withstand a siege — not unless whichever duke he’d chosen actually committed to defending it.
Would they? Jean tried to imagine a duke sacrificing his knights to save a port city’s citizens. He kept arriving at the same answer. More likely the duke would let the enemy pour in, bleed them against the civilian terrain, then seal off the exits.
Abandoning the bay to whoever claimed it might be cleaner.
Hence: noose or fire.
He had kept the two delegations in the same camp, hoping their mutual loathing would eventually produce a brawl that gave him an excuse or an opening. He’d sent women and good liquor to assist the process. The result had been a sustained shouting match and nothing more.
Tick, tick.
The rain reached his garden. A soft grey curtain descended between the mansion and the sky.
He watched the flowers bend under it and stayed quiet. His grandfather had taught him: nobles are always wavering between interest and power. Work with that instability rather than against it. Don’t react; find the angle. The advice had served him well his whole life. It felt inadequate now.
Running footsteps cut through the drumming of the rain.
“S-sir! Bad news!”
“Slow down.” Jean fixed the guard with a look. “What happened?” He noted the man’s trembling lips and hoped for the words campsite or fight — something between the two families.
“The King of Graycastle’s fleet — they’ve taken the port! They seized the entire dock and blocked everyone from approaching!”
The room went still.
“What?” Jean said. “Graycastle? Are they here to sell goods? Wait — you said they blocked the dock?”
“They drove every boat off the trestle to make room for their own ships. They say they’re borrowing the port for a time and that order will be maintained. The patrol team tried to stop them and was disarmed immediately. There are hundreds of Graycastle ships outside the harbor — hundreds!”
“Are you certain it’s the King of Graycastle’s fleet? Not some lord’s?”
“I confirmed it through the telescope, sir.” The guard steadied himself. “The coat of arms on their flags: a tower and crossed spears. That’s Graycastle.”
Graycastle. Invading the Kingdom of Wolfheart by sea.
Why here, when they could have gone north through the Token lands? Did Wimbledon intend to conquer the entire coast? Could the Token Family resist an army that had already broken the church?
None of it assembled into sense.
Then Zum leaned close and murmured in Jean’s ear.
The baron’s face changed — not alarm, but something close to relief.
Yes. Yes. Of course.
The Graycastle army, whatever it intended here, would need local intelligence. Local contacts. Local men who understood the terrain and the factions. An army could take territory; it could not govern a coastline it didn’t understand. Jean had spent years building exactly the knowledge Wimbledon’s commanders would need. If this fleet was embarking on a campaign, he was worth more to them as a cooperative intermediary than as a defeated enemy.
And if the campaign failed, he would have lost nothing — he hadn’t chosen a side.
The other guard burst in through the door.
“Sir — the Graycastle fleet has sent an ambassador. He speaks on behalf of King Roland Wimbledon and wishes to speak with you.”
Jean looked at Zum. Zum looked at Jean.
“He’s a guest,” the baron said. “Tell him I’ll come out to meet him.”
Chapter 1199 - The Commotion in the Kingdom of Wolfheart
Translator: Transn Editor: Transn
“What damn weather,” the baron, Jean Bate, muttered as he stared at the overcast sky by the window. “It’s raining again.”
It rained a lot in the Sedimentation Bay, particularly in summer and fall. Unexpected storms visited this city often, so the city was equipped with a well-developed drainage system. Unlike the Broken Tooth Castle and Graystone City where roads instantly turned muddy after a heavy rain, the rain here would only affect the cargo transportation. The impact of the weather was indeed minimal to the urban area.
Jean was actually more frustrated about himself than the upcoming rain.
The sky would soon clear out after the shower, but his mood would remain gloomy.
“Sir, have you figured out how to reply to them?” His clerk, Zum, asked gingerly.
“Reply?” the baron sneered. “What would you say if you have to pick between being hanged and being burned?”
“Er…” The clerk fell silent.
“You can’t make a choice either, right? So, let’s just keep them waiting.”
“But…” Zum broke off, trying to formulate a proper answer.
Jean Bate knew very well that playing for time was just a temporary solution. Like the prospective storm that would come no matter merchants liked it or
not, he had to solve this problem regardless.
Everything started with the war against the church.
After the fall of the king’s city of the Kingdom of Wolfheart, dozens of lords, all of a sudden, claimed that they were the bastards of the King of Wolfheart. These alleged royal blood formed cliques and factions to fight for the throne. After numerous fierce battles, the kingdom was divided into three major territories, each dominated by the Token Family in the northwest, the “Redstone Gate” Family in the south, and the “Tusk” Family in the mountainous area in the east.
Since the Tokens were relatively far from the Sedimentation Bay, they had never come to bother Jean. However, both the Redstone Gate Family and the Tusk Family were trying strenuously to win him over to further expand their territories.
The baron had been taking a neutral position during the war. His disinterest in political gains soon brought huge profits to his city. Since the two dukes relied on the port to transport food and gold royals, and because they had been busy with conquering other surrounding cities and towns, the two families had not extended their power over the Sedimentation Bay as yet.
However, as the expansion progressed, the Tusk and Redstone Gate Families gradually became two of the most competitive candidates for the future sovereign. Since the Tokens suddenly extended a full reign over the Cage Mountain, the Tusk and Redstone thus again rested their eyes on the baron’s domain, the Sedimentation Bay.
Jean knew exactly what they aimed at.
They wanted to seize the Sedimentation Bay and banned commercial trades of their opponents as a way to outpower the other. To this end, both dukes sent their embassadors, along with dozens of knights and mercenaries, in an ostensible attempt to lobby him.
The port was only guarded by a patrol team and several of Jean’s own guards. Those guards could cope with savage pirates but definitely not fully-
equipped knights. Jean Bate did not plan to resist. He would pledge alliance to whoever that ascended the throne, and he did not care whether this succeeder was the true blood of the late king.
Unfortunately, however, the Redstone Gate and the Tusk Families were powerful in equal measure.
Under such circumstances, he could join neither of them.
Whichever side he picked, he would suffer virulent vengeance from the other party. Losing the right to trade meant they would have to produce food and other military supplies by themselves while the other party would be entitled to a constant supply of resources. Neither of the two families would like to put themselves in such an unfavorable situation.
Therefore, a war would be inevitable.
There was no fortified city wall or deep moat protecting the city, which meant that Jean had to pick a side to defend against the invasion.
However, would the two families support him?
The baron could not take a chance.
Shrewd as the two dukes, they would probably sacrifice the subjects of the Sedimentation Bay to reduce the casualities of their knights and then cut the retreat once their enemy entered the city, for they cared only about the land not the people.
Perhaps, it would be better to abandon the Sedimentation Bay to the two families.
That was why Jean said this was a decision between being hanged and being burned.
Jean sent the two emissary delegations to the same campsite, hoping their acrimony against each other would earn him time to think over the matter. He rather hoped the two parties engaged in a physical altercation. To this end, Jean had even sent women and strong liquor to inveigle them into fighting,
but other than a fierce verbal argument, neither of the two parties made the first move.
“Tick, tick…”
The rain finally pounded against the garden of his mansion, draping a misty curtain between Heaven and earth.
Watching flowers swaying gently in the rain, the baron lapsed into silence. He knew it was not wise to play for time, but he could not think of any other way to get out of this dilemma. His grandfather used to advise him that nobles tended to always waver between interests and power. As long as he took advantage of their indecisiveness, he would never lose. Perhaps, it was time for him to stop playing games but start to think deeper and more strategically.
Just then, a pattering of running footsteps interrupted his thought.
“S-sir, bad news!”
“What’s the matter? Now, now, take it easy!” Jean Bate said as he shot the guard a glance. “What happened?” He stared at the guard’s quivering lips, hoping to hear words like “knights” or “campsite” that hinted a fight between the two families.
“The fleet of the King, the King of Graycastle took the port. They not only took over the dock but also forbade anyone to approach that area!” The news was so shocking that for a moment, Jean stood rooted to the ground.
“What did you say? Gray, Graycastle?” the baron stammered. “Do they want to sell anything here? Hang on… you said they blocked off the dock?”
“Yes!” the guard blustered frantically. “They drove away the boats around the trestle for their own ships. They say they’re going to borrow the port for a while and assure that order will soon be established. The patrol team attempted to stop them but was immediately disarmed. It’s reported that there are hundreds of Graycastle ships outside the harbor!”
Jean Bate asked incredulously, “Are you sure it’s the fleet of the King of Graycastle, not any lord?”
“Yes, I saw them through my telescope,” the guard replied with some difficulties. “I confirm that the coat of arms on the flags does represent Graycastle. It has a tower and spears.”
Jesus, did Graycastle intend to invade the Kingdom of Wolfheart?
Why did Wimbledon not pick his neighbor but him?
Even if the King of Graycastle desired to expand his territory, he did not necessarily have to launch an attack on the sea. Could the Token Family resist the army of Graycastle who had once defeated the church?
No, this did not make sense…
The baron dealt hurriedly with crowding thoughts.
Then his clerk Zum came up to him and whispered something in his ear.
The baron’s face lighted up.
Yes, this was what he was exactly waiting for!
The army of Graycastle definitely had the capability to break the deadlock between the two warring families. If this fleet did plan to wage a war here, they would need the help of local nobles no matter how invincible they were. With just a little guidance, they would be able to conquer the entire land. Jean did not have specific preference over any lord, but apparently, the King of Graycastle could offer him more than any of the nobles. Possibly in the near future, he would become a governor of some jurisdiction if he chose to pledge fealty to the King of Graycastle.
Even if Wimbledon failed his attempt, Jean would not lose anything.
Just at that moment, another guard burst in. “Sir, the Graycastle fleet sent an embassador on behalf of King Roland Wimbledon, who wishes to speak to you.”
Jean Bate exchanged a look with the clerk before he said with a nod, “He’s our guest. Tell the embassador that I’ll come out to meet him.”