Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 432 - 431: An Inspiring Moment

When the butler of Gran Territory mentioned "they are here," the southern aristocrats present collectively gasped, and upon hearing that the Cecil’s Army had successively taken control of Gran, Konsko, and the Carol Region, the southern aristocrats shook their heads in sighs, showing expressions of sorrow. Particularly Viscount Konsko, who was already in utter despair, covered his face in distress and began to curse under his breath.

Before Sir Maryland could speak, Lady Ropeni Gran broke the silence. She clenched her fists tightly, glaring at the butler: "Where is my daughter? What about the others in the castle?"

"They used those weapons called ’Giant Cannon’ to level the entire castle... and nearly burned down half the town..." The butler said sorrowfully, "Almost no one escaped... all dead... all of them are dead..."

Lady Ropeni Gran swayed twice, then as if losing all her strength, fell back, but fortunately, one of her personal guards quickly supported the nearly fainting mistress. The guard whispered beside the lady, "Cover your eyes."

"I know." Lady Ropeni Gran also whispered, seemingly overcome with grief, she covered her face with her hands.

Sir Maryland, upon hearing this shocking news, was just slightly moved, then examined the butler with a scrutinizing gaze, who had astonishingly fled from Gran Territory to the rocky ridges Fortress: "An unfortunate plight—but how did you escape? From Gran Territory to here... it’s not close."

The butler showed a look of embarrassment and sorrow: "I’m really ashamed to say... it was the Cecil Clan that intentionally let me go..."

"The Cecil Clan let you go?" Sir Maryland asked in surprise, "Why?"

"They’re challenging," Lady Ropeni Gran seemed to forcibly calm down from her sorrow, her eyes reddened as she stared at Sir Maryland, "They’re declaring war! Flaunting! They want us to know what is happening in the south, to know that everything we have accumulated over hundreds of years has been completely destroyed by them! They are trying to utterly defeat us!"

Sir Maryland looked at the lady before him, described as powerful, who could lead the final surviving southern aristocrats fleeing the battlefield to the rocky ridges Fortress. He saw in her eyes a blazing hatred, yet not much sorrow. This was the state of someone who only wished for revenge after losing everything, which moved him: "Lady, your plight makes me indignant, rest assured, we will fight against the Cecil Clan—this fortress is where we will confront them!"

His words were firm and strong, yet almost no one among the southern aristocrats present responded, most were still dazed by the shocking news brought by the butler, and a small portion were already immersed in the fear of Cecil’s imminent arrival. Viscount Mari Oran suddenly stood up, waved his arms excitedly: "We cannot wait here to die! This fortress cannot withstand the Skyfire!"

Other southern aristocrats began to stir, many starting to respond in turn, Viscount Mari Oran seized this opportunity to quickly address Sir Maryland: "Sir, try harder, let Count Pompeii open the north gate, we have to go to the Plains of the Holy Spirits to seek refuge!"

Sir Maryland’s face looked worse than ever, he could barely conceal the contempt in his eyes. These people frightened to death no longer deserved to be called aristocrats, they were no different from those peasants who would kneel upon seeing soldiers’ swords in country cottages—how could they still think of running at this point?

Did they think what little gold and silver they had left would afford them white bread in the Plains of the Holy Spirits for a few days?

But before Sir Maryland could speak, Lady Ropeni Gran had already stepped forward. She glared almost viciously at everyone present, her voice filled with an unstoppable momentum: "Where is your backbone? Has it all dissolved in alcohol?!"

Besides her, the fleeing southern aristocrats were all male, yet none dared to lift their head to meet Ropeni’s gaze at this moment. Seeing each guilty glance diverting away, Lady Ropeni Gran couldn’t help but raise her voice: "What are you afraid of? Is there really no courage left? Don’t forget this is the rocky ridges Fortress, a fortress with a magic barrier! Weren’t you all at the fortress banquet hall this morning, discussing grandly, saying it’s impregnable, that you would watch from the ramparts as the Cecil Clan is overthrown—why have you all forgotten now?"

"Lady Gran... Lady, what will we fight the Cecil Clan with?" One southern aristocrat finally couldn’t help but speak, "If we go to war, we’d only be adding chaos. Leaving here is also to avoid causing trouble for the people of rocky ridges Fortress..."

"What nonsense!" Ropeni glared at the cowardly southern aristocrat, "Is that what you all think? Have you forgotten that when you fled here, you still had thousands beside you—until now, those loyal Knights and soldiers are still in the city waiting for your orders! They haven’t fled, so why should you?"

"The rocky ridges Fortress is short of manpower now, we should gather all our forces. We have sturdy walls and a magic barrier; we can at least move the catapult stones around behind the barrier, right? Help guard the Mage towers and archer towers, right?"

Sir Maryland gazed at the passionate Lady Ropeni Gran, astonishment mixed with a sudden clarity—these southern aristocrats who had fallen to this refuge... while mostly cowardly and weak, they still represented some strength indeed.

Honestly, before arriving he had held some expectations, believing the Cecil Clan wouldn’t attack here, for theoretically the rocky ridges Fortress was already outside the southern territories, and Duke Gawain Cecil had no reason to attack here, but ever since learning about the ancestor breaking ancestral customs, he had regretted sheltering these useless southern aristocrats more and more. If not for the gold and silver they had or the pile of promises they made, he might have long found a way to throw most of them out.

And now...

With the Cecil Clan really coming, these useless southern aristocrats should also pay some price for the protection they’ve received.

He gazed at Lady Ropeni who was fervently rallying the southern aristocrats to arm themselves and defend the fortress—she was one of the few southern nobles he admired apart from Viscount Carol, and now this lady had just been stripped of everything by the Cecil Clan. Her unwavering determination for revenge made her a remarkable ally.

So he stood up and voiced, "Lady—are you willing to help me defend this fortress?"

Ropeni turned around, her eyes burning with fervor: "Yes, sir, of course I am willing—as long as we can defeat those Cecil people, I am ready to do everything in my power!"

At this moment, Viscount Carol, who had been silent all along, stood up appropriately. He scanned the wavering southern aristocrats, raising his hands: "Gentlemen, you should feel ashamed, for your collective courage right now cannot compare to Viscountess Gran. Do not forget, we are under the protection of the rocky ridges Fortress; stepping up in times of crisis is our duty too. I am willing to respond to the lady’s call—even though I am down to just two knights and dozens of soldiers, I will stand atop the walls and defend this fortress to the last moment!"

After the first person stood up, more people finally found courage, however faint, inspired by those who rose during the bombardment at Broken Stone Ridge and the southern chase battles, these souls had almost been completely shattered but now agreed one after another, willing to stand atop the walls with the few dozens or hundreds of followers they had left, living and dying with the fortress, ready to resist the Cecil Clan to the bitter end—even if many of them would regret leaving the hall or even after shouting those spirited words, at least at this moment, they were encouraged to stand up.

For aristocrats, as long as they stand up at this moment, it’s hard for them to sit back down.

Lady Ropeni Gran looked at the scene with satisfaction, as did Sir Maryland, the latter couldn’t help nodding—these southern aristocrats and their remaining followers may not amount to a great force but at the very least, they could alleviate the manpower shortages. Nothing else, at least those nobles who understand magic can be arranged to charge the Mage towers, and with these people, the rocky ridges Fortress can hang on longer.

Perhaps hold on until the kingdoms’ situation improves.

He never doubted his fortress could withstand the Cecil Clan’s attack; his worry was that this prolonged defense might exhaust the isolated and unassisted rocky ridges Fortress.

After the admirable lady successfully rallied the southern aristocrats and once again became a leader of these distressed nobles (her previous leadership happened when leading them away from the southern borders), Sir Maryland said to her: "Lady Gran, your brave deeds truly reflect the spirit of nobility, I hope you can consolidate the manpower of the southern aristocrats and lead them. I will deploy you to guard and manage the inner Mage spires and the second wall of the fortress. I don’t think the gentlemen present would object?"

The southern aristocrats on the scene unanimously expressed agreement.

Subsequently, Sir Maryland summoned his guards and began arranging the defense of the fortress: "First, clear away those scattered farmhouses south of the fortress...everyone retreats into the city, destroy remaining assets, fill the wells..."

"Clear the entire forest at the edges of the southern hills, burn or clear all trees, leave nothing blocking the sight.

"Double the patrol teams..."

After leaving the main hall, Ropeni Gran walked alongside her butler.

Sir Maryland no longer had the spare time to focus on trivial matters; Ropeni Gran needed to find a place for rest with her people, which suited her just fine.

She looked at her tatty-clad butler and those trusted followers who had ’escaped together,’ the tattered garments were real, the mud and grease were real, underneath the ragged clothes, those scars... were real too.

When there were no outsiders nearby, she softly said: "You’ve worked hard."

"It is our honor."

"How are things?"

"The eagle has left the nest, the fledglings are well."

Ropeni Gran subtly nodded, then raised her head, looking through the high narrow window on one side of the castle’s corridor, watching the distance as the evening glow gradually tinged red.

"This long list is finally nearing its end."