V2 Chapter 2: The March of White Dragons
While sitting on his chair, Letrailos stared down at the enemy’ fortification stood in his path, Laktown was its name, too small of a dot on the map of conquest of White Winter. Not even a trading city, a mere border town, merely a border town, Letrailos mused. Laktown was surrounded with a high ring of mud wall and shallow moat, a highly unusual characteristic for a desolate town according to Letrailos’ knowledge.
It was at a moment like this that Letrailos could not help but feel his hatred for his younger brother surged within him. Why Sinintee? You have already created me. Why did you have to create him? Letrailos lamented secretly and found his grip on Lanxer’s manual tightened.
As Letrailos tried to calm himself, he saw one of his subordinate approached him, “Your Holiness, they have released their birds.”
“May they realize the benevolence of Sinintee in death,” Letrailos prayed and stood up from his chair, tossing Lanxer’s war manual to one of his pageboy Adat. Adat caught the scroll, folded the wooden chair that Letrailos has just sit on, and hurried along Letrailos’ side.
According to the manual given to Letrailos by Lanxer, most of the border towns on the western territory of Zard shared the same characteristic like Laktown. Small border towns that built along the banks of the Sandanphon would at least have mud walls to protect them from raids. Small towns that were built further away from the Sandanphon would have walls made of timbers and rocks. Bigger towns and cities would have better-built walls to protect themselves. The entire Western region of Zard was easily the most fortified and battle-ready area that Letrailos has ever seen according to the manual. This was due to the constant territory conflicts with the vanquished kingdom of Kraig’ondor in the past, in addition with the rise of raids from bandits and river pirates from White Winter in the recent years.
These towns and cities in the Western Region would form a large network among themselves through fire signals and birds. Like a beehive, if one of them were attacked, the rest would know immediately. In the shortest amount of time, they would relay the information to the nearest garrisons and their Warden, the Hyrios of Western Border. Due to the mobility and coordination that Hyrios instilled into his force, even the weakest mud walls in the Western Border were strong enough to protect the people inside them until Hyrios arrived. Nobody in his right mind would invade Zard from its western frontier. Even the old hero king of Kraig’ondor shared the same belief.
However, one person disagreed.
Standing amidst the large square composed of a thousand of his White Robes, Letrailos offered his prayer to patron god of the Great Temple, “May the Great Sinintee smiles upon us,” and struck his ivory scepter into the air with his right hand. His left hand quickly weaved a magic formula before infusing the formula into the butt of his long ivory scepter All For Once. The rubies and diamonds lodged within Letrailos’ scepter began to project his magic formula into the air, forming colorless mana cloud rings that kept on spreading until it became a magic circle on the sky. A layered magic circle of a thousand men's wingspan radius clouded over Letrailos’ head, invisible to non-mana sensitive beings at first. It slowly solidified in the air and brightened with a flaming color as it was infused with mana from the White Robes under Letrailos’ command.
Through the aid of All For One, Letrailos angled his magic circle, now fully charged with mana, and directed it at the closed gates of Laktown. He invoked the
As Letrailos watched with his eyes, Laktown erupted into rubbles and dust cloud, its mud walls cleaved in twain by the giant claws. Letrailos struck All For One into the air and his followers cheered loudly. One of his bodyguards was already finished casting
Letrailos projected his voice into the spell, “I have offered them the kindness of the Great Sinintee. They refused.” His voice was loud as thunder, spreading among the ranks of his White Robes and paladins, “There is no reason for us to spare such infidels. Kill all, leave none alive. Letting them know what it means to reject Sinintee’s kindness.”
Five hundred men of the Ninth legion lent to Letrailos by Regan began to flood Laktown to execute his command. They looted the local granary and killed all villagers inside the town while Letrailos began his march with his followers to the nearest target on the conquest map.
As Letrailos watched the billowing dark smoke rising on top of Laktown, he smirked, wondering how many more towns and cities would suffer the same fate as this desolate border town.
Within two hours, Letrailos arrived at his next target, Vadelrun.
Again, with
Letrailos appealed the terrified guards with his kindest voice, “I swear on my name as the imperial prince of White Winter and an apostle of Sinintee that I am not here to cause unnecessary bloodshed. I’m here to protect you and save your kingdom from the traitorous Hyrios. Right now, the fighting with the traitor’s army has spread over the region. I urge you, good people of Vadelrun to show us your allegiance. Is your allegiance with your king or is it with the traitor’s army? Make the right choice. Don’t make it harder for us to fulfill our pledge to your king. If you are indeed innocent and good, I swear on Sinintee’s name, I will protect you from the sword and flame of the traitor. I urge you again, good people of Vadelrun, make the right choice.”
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This time, All For One played no role in the fall of Vadelrun. Vadelrun fell in lesser than an hour. Letrailos put Lanxer’s appointed staffs to police area before marching on to the next target. The new breed of horses that Lanxer has prepared for him and his pacifying force only made it easier for Letrailos’ one thousand men army for their long march. As the number of towns and city surrendered to Letrailos and the number that fell to his might mounted, Letrailos could not help but feel the surge in his admiration and envy for Lanxer.
Among the imperial princes and children of the royal families, Letrailos was the best of them all and he was confident about that. Born from the consummation of his mother rightful queen of White Winter and his father the King himself, Letrailos already had an undisputed advantage over all of his competition and Letrailos was made to know that before his fifth birthday by his mother. He was constantly reminded that his title as the Crown Prince of White Winter was something he has to protect with his own hands. Letrailos remembered the time when his inability to remember his lessons meant whipping behind the closed doors of the queen’s quarter.
Letrailos remembered the time when he alone worked and studied the hardest among the royal children. While the older kids of duke families and his younger brothers were resting in the shade of the canopies, Letrailos was bathing under the scorch of the high sun with royal combat instructor. While the other children were having their afternoon nap, Letrailos was chasing after Old Man to ask the questions that no children at his age would ask. At night, when the other children were playing inside the courtyard of the harem quarter, Letrailos was sitting on his table, reading scrolls through the flickering of lit candles and lamps with a whip behind him waiting for his distraction to fall down on his back. While being called the “Greatest gift bearer of Sinintee” by the royal magic tutor did not put Letrailos at any disadvantage, it did not help him either. His father and grandfather have proved that a person did not have to be a gift bearer of any god to be a king. Being good at casting spells had nothing to do with becoming a king or being a king.
Letrailos always remembered his mother’s words telling him to secure his position as the crown prince with his efforts. Being born the crown prince, and winning his father and the Old Man’s favor was his best claim for the throne. It took real efforts to win over the Old Man’s favor, cunning against his father and pain, lots of pain for securing the crown prince status.
However, a six years old boy was born among concubines of the king managed to solve a problem that not even adults could. Everything changed since that day.
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While he was marching on horseback, Lanxer received a letter.
“Gods make games, men make plan,” Lanxer sighed a long sigh to kill his desire to curse aloud. He crumbled the newest letter within his palm. It was the second letter to confirm the news that the king of Zard was heading north with an army. This development was something Lanxer could have never anticipated.
In contrary to Lanxer’s shocked look, Regan was having the time of his life, doubling on his saddle with laughter, “This old man is probably bored of sitting on his throne for too long,” Regan shook and teared up, trying to contain his laughter, “How old is this man again? 70? He’s having too much fun.”
It was until Regan realized that Lanxer was glaring dagger at him that he stopped. Lanxer just sighed, lamenting his inability to predict this predicament. What kind of king would leave his throne for the thrill of battle at the age beyond 60? Lanxer could not help but felt his resurging hatred for members of royalty who could not rule his kingdom with sensibleness and self-discipline. This is defeating my purpose for conquering the capital.
Lanxer gritted his teeth and recalculated his plan. His original plan was to capture the weakened capital city and the entire royal family of Zard in one fell swoop. Of course, the lack of number from the royal army protecting the capital, which has headed North with anybody other the king himself as the general, would make Lanxer’s job easier. By taking the King and the entire royal family of Zard hostage, Lanxer could force the Wardens of Zard to lay down their arms or declare them outlaws. He could legitimize this invasion with a single signature from the king himself and the help of the King’s office. Whether the King of Zard would cooperate on this or not, it did not matter, any of his sons who were up for the task would do.
Now, that damn old fool is in one place and his office is in one place, Lanxer cursed secretly. He ordered, “Map.” Levy immediately him the correct scroll without the need to be specified on which map. Lanxer grabbed the drawn map of the Great Plain and calculated the movement of Zard’s royal army, realizing that he was more pissed than he thought. He probably would not be this pissed if his plan was undone because some geniuses outsmarted and outmaneuvered Lanxer’s army. My plan is being undone because my enemy has just made a most stupid decision that nobody could have possibly anticipated such stupidity.
Why does nobody stop this old man from going to war? Who in the right mind would allow their over 60 years old king go to war and participate in battles? Those who allow this decision to happen must cut their heads off. Lanxer gnashed, quickly had his estimated result and found a very thin line of opportunity to end the war according to his schedule. The royal army belonged to the king were not used to long march like Hyrios’ army due to its structure, composition, and size. Even if they were, that 60 years old body of their king could never keep up with them. The king himself would slow down his army’s marching speed. How slow? Lanxer could never really answer that question but he could estimate the answer. Until the Shadowless implanted in the royal army sent their coordinate in the next letters, Lanxer could only rely on his estimation.
Should I go after him first then his capital? Lanxer started popping one of his health potion vials and drained it with a single gulp. Once he emptied the vial, Lanxer ordered his army to stop their march. He called for a war council among his secretaries and Regan.
As the war council became heated, Lanxer received a letter from the north, reporting the strange inactivity of Bloodbeard’s army and the capture of one of his high-ranking Shadowless. Nothing but bad news.
By the time the war council ended, Lanxer parted with Regan and continued his original course toward the capital city of Zard. Regan alongside his best cavalry units chased after the royal army with the king of Zard as his target, dead or alive.