A whole minute of silence followed his proclamation. The two women stared at him, lips parted and eyes wide.
Leonard didn’t believe he had said something preposterous, nor that it had come out of the left field. Both knew very well that he was dissatisfied with how things were run, especially with the nobility ignoring the people’s suffering in Hetnia.
Still, he allowed them the time they needed to process things. He had essentially declared war on the kingdom, after all. Some things were shocking to hear, even when one already knew it was coming.
“I knew you were the right choice.” Amelia finally said, eyes shining brightly. She removed a silken handkerchief from her shadow and gracefully dabbed her eyes. “It took a while for you to break free from the chains they put on you, but you see what needs to be done. That’s good. That’s really good.”
Leonard stared at his friend. He knew her better than anyone else, and he still couldn’t understand her at times.
Has she been waiting for me to pick up my sword again? I know she hates most of the aristocracy, but I thought she was too pragmatic to waste time on idealistic notions.
Whatever her reason, Leonard appreciated her support. Without her, things would have been much more difficult. He would have still fought, but wars needed to be planned in many different fields, and for all his strength, he wasn’t suited for all of them. Amelia would make a wonderful spymistress.
“Thank you, my friend. Having you with me in this fight makes my heart lighter,” he told her, earning a brilliant smile.
Lia cleared her throat, “I will follow you too. Allowing things to remain as they are would mean the doom of everyone here, no matter how much I might personally struggle. We need fundamental change, and I trust you to at least give the system a good whack. Better to die fighting for what we believe in than starving.”
image [https://i.postimg.cc/zBYM1jr4/persimmon0-Surprisingly-spry-and-active-old-woman-her-face-is-v-d2596782-df85-4e28-bc19-c331f61e14a6.png]
As always, the hobgoblin brought them back to reality. She had spent her life helping the unfortunate, honing her craft to make sure her people could have a shot at life, only for it all to be upended by the Incursion. Where before, she managed her community with a steel hand, it had now grown to over ten times what it used to be, by far exceeding her capabilities. It wasn’t surprising that she had identified the likely end her people would face in the long run.
“I cannot promise you absolute victory, even with the might the Light has blessed me with, but I can promise you I’ll work tirelessly to make things better for everyone. Slavery is a foul crime not just for its evident effects on people’s freedoms but also because it weakens the very basis of a country.” Leonard responded, eyes gaining a faraway quality as he thought back to the land he was born in. “Only the masters benefit directly, while everyone else is dragged down by it. Even the free men who think it’s not their business.”
“I agree that it a terrible thing,” Amelia said after sipping her tea, “but surely if it were that bad, more people would decry it? It’s accepted practice almost everywhere in the world. As far as I know of our neighbors, only the Brander Republic and the elven Lantea oppose it. Everyone else, from the Hammerfest Empire and the Handriatic Union to the south, Eturia and Velvefor in the north, and even Stormguard, practice it as an integral part of their economy. Despite the consequences, I still think it’s worth getting rid of it, but you are saying it’s actually bad even in that respect?”
Leonard sighed. The problem with being an otherworlder was that most of what he considered conventional wisdom was entirely unheard of here. It wasn’t even that Haylich and its neighbors were backward. They simply developed on entirely different lines, given the presence of magic and nonhuman sapients.
Almost everyone who understood economics in his original world knew that people forced to work were much less productive than people who willingly did so. “Slave labor pulls down the value of freeman’s wages. Meanwhile, slaves cannot contribute to the local economy and do not have the means to purchase anything. Slaves are denied even the basic education that most commoners receive. They generate a downward spiral of economic malady from which no country can pull itself from without ridding itself of the malignant cancer that caused it in the first place.” Leonard replied passionately. Of course, he mainly opposed the foul practice because it clashed ideologically with who he was. But that it also meant a constant force pulling down entire countries was important to acknowledge.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Then why is it so widespread?” Amelia asked, though she had already realized the answer by the way her face grew grimmer.
“Because it is the perfect weapon for the aristocracy to maintain its grip on power. If the people were allowed to grow and flourish, they would threaten their monopoly. And they are willing to go to any length to retain that.” Leonard meant it. He hadn’t understood how far they’d go until they killed Belinda and ensured he could do nothing but watch her pass in his arms. Now that his eyes had been forcefully opened, he would never forget.
“Tsk. It wouldn’t surprise me if they were well aware of this. At least the few with a thinking mind that direct everything.” Lia muttered, lips twisting in a snarl.
Leonard nodded in agreement, “People like Prime Minister Nevielle are sure to know this. The man is very intelligent, despite how much I dislike him, and the only reason someone like him would allow slavery to remain is that he thinks it’s necessary.”
Amelia sighed, “Even now, after all these years, they find ways to surprise me with their depravity.”
Leonard smiled warmly, placing his hand on hers, “But now we are doing something about it. That’s what counts. The reason I’m so mad is that I allowed myself to be entrapped in their games for too long, and after the Incursion, I was tired. I didn’t want to fight again, and so I went along with the status quo. But now I will change it. With your help, if you’ll give it to me.”
Rather than rolling their eyes like he suspected they’d do, the two women went down on one knee, fiercely looking at him. “We swear ourselves to the cause!” They said firmly, and Leonard felt their will be manifest in an oath.
It was much more than he had requested, and it made him stand up, placing his hand on his heart, “I will fight for the cause until my dying breath, if necessary.”
With that, Leonard had achieved his first goal. Amelia and Old Lia would be fundamental to shore up his fledgling operation, and while he doubted they would have said no, he wanted them to be all in.
Now, to find myself my first General.
----------------------------------------
After leaving Lia's house, Leonard took the time to tend to his personal needs, which had been neglected during his imprisonment and the immediate whirlwind of events that followed his release. The simple act of washing up and dressing in clean clothes was a small but significant step toward reclaiming his sense of self.
Amelia had kindly offered her house, as he was still hesitant about returning to the cottage he had shared with Belinda. More than the memories, the broken promises of a happy future together threatened to swallow him, and he couldn’t afford that luxury anymore now that he had decided to act.
As evening began to cast its shadows over the town, Leonard made his way deeper into Alpar’s slums. His destination was a seedy bar known as The Broken Lance, a dimly lit establishment that served as a sanctuary for those whom the horrors of the Incursion had shattered. Here, in this place of refuge, distinctions between humans and demihumans faded into irrelevance. They were all comrades in misery, seeking solace at the bottom of a mug. The Broken Lance was nestled in a narrow alley, its sign barely visible under the grime that covered everything in this part of town.
As Leonard pushed open the heavy wooden door, the smell of stale ale and subdued conversations greeted him. The interior was as one might expect from such a place: dark, with a few flickering candles casting shadows on the walls and tables scattered haphazardly around the room. The clientele consisted of a mix of weary laborers, mercenaries who had seen better days, and others whose eyes bore the unmistakable mark of having faced the Void.
A solitary figure sat in the corner of the tavern, away from the few raucous groups attempting to drown their memories in the drink. He was a man whose posture spoke of a noble bearing now weighed down by defeat. The armor that should be a proud symbol of his status as a knight lay discarded on the bench beside him, while his tabard, once bearing the emblem of his lord, had been scrubbed until it was unrecognizable. This was Sir Gareth, a disgraced knight whose love had led him to the brink of destruction.
He was a handsome man with delicate features and a dark braid that had sent many a maiden swooning. Those days were long behind the man, having been sent to die in exile after making the mistake of falling in love with his lord’s daughter. His skill at arm and tactical talent had seen him pull through the Incursion physically unarmed, but his heart was still hurt.
Gareth was nursing a mug of the tavern's cheapest swill; his gaze fixed on the dark liquid as if seeking answers in its depths. The coins on the table in front of him suggested he was determined to spend his last remaining money in an attempt to forget his sorrows, if only for a night.
Leonard approached the knight, his presence initially unnoticed amid the general gloom of the tavern. It wasn't until he loomed over him that the knight looked up, startled, his eyes widening in recognition and disbelief. "Sir Leonard?" Gareth's voice was hoarse, disbelief coloring his tone as he stared up at the figure before him.
He managed to miss what happened. It just goes to show how stubborn humans can be to ignore a pillar of Holy Light.
Leonard nodded, offering a small smile, “Sir Gareth of Doomspear, I had heard you were still alive after the last battle.”
Gareth's initial shock gave way to a wary resignation. "Alive, yes, but not living," he muttered, gesturing to the dingy surroundings. "What does the Hero want with someone like me? My honor is lost, my name is mud, and my lord would sooner see me dead than restored.”
Leonard's gaze hardened. The weight of his own recent injustices lent gravity to his words. "I seek those who have been wronged, those who have been cast aside despite serving faithfully. I know you to be a real warrior, honest and true. I know your heart is still suffering and that the world seems at its darkest, but I need you. The people’s plight has gone by unheard for too long, and good men can no longer ignore it.”
For a moment, silence reigned. The tavern might have well been empty for all that its patrons were transfixed. Gareth stared at Leonard, his eyes searching desperately for something. Whether that be justice, recognition, or something else, he seemed to find it because the man stood up smoothly, burning away the alcohol in a flash of mana.
It was just a matter of willingness for a Master knight like him. His control over his body was such that the desperate, listless man disappeared like snow under the summer heat, and in its place was the man who had led thousands of others against the forces of the Void.
He knelt, and Leonard knew he had him.