A sudden turn

In one of the tents, a group of young light cavalrymen were hard at work.

The young cavalrymen were sorting out their battle gear, including swords, shields, bows, arrows, and spears, as well as helmets, breastplates, pauldrons, bracers, and greaves.

They also checked their saddles, reins, and other tack to make sure their horses' equipment was intact.

The atmosphere was rather subdued. Although everyone worked briskly and efficiently, their expressions were visibly solemn.

They were all young and had little combat experience. Each had undergone rigorous training, but the battlefield had still put them through a brutal baptism.

The deaths of their comrades and the blood spilled as they cut down enemies had changed every survivor's outlook. Though the brief battle had ended abruptly, they now felt an urgent need to survive the fighting.

Among them was a young man of seventeen or eighteen, with short, jet-black hair and bright, piercing eyes. His looks were unremarkable, but those eyes, filled with intelligence and resolve, left a lasting impression.

About 1.8 meters tall, he had a lean, athletic build that brimmed with vitality. Dressed in a finely crafted suit of light armor, with a longsword at his waist, he was busy putting his equipment in order.

The young man's name was Victor Golden Sunflower, but inside, he was an Earthling named Sun Wenjie.

It's been five years since I unraveled the mystery of the womb. I thought experiencing the battlefield and fighting for my life might awaken my golden finger, but it seems that was no use. I'll have to find another way, Victor thought as he sorted his gear.

Ever since he had awakened his memories of his previous life at twelve, a phantom image of a tower had remained in Victor's left palm, visible only to him. He believed it was his golden finger. Unfortunately, none of his attempts, from slaughtering chickens and sheep to training his skills, had elicited any response.

That was also why he had come to fight in this war: he hoped that life-and-death combat on the battlefield would activate his golden finger.

Their first battle had left him and the unit under his command somewhat battered. Yet as he looked at the bearing of the soldiers around him, he knew the unit's most important missing piece had fallen into place. Once this war ended, it could become a truly battle-ready elite force.

But this was a war—yes, a war, not merely a battle—a large-scale civil war in which both sides had mobilized eighty percent of the nobles in the Grand Duchy of Vera. As the baron's only adult heir, Victor also had to fulfill his obligations as a vassal and fight alongside his father, Baron Wembley Golden Sunflower. They had mobilized more than half their domain's standing army. Their barony alone had supplied over four hundred professional soldiers, along with more than eight hundred serfs serving as auxiliary troops and laborers.

The cause of the war was painfully familiar: the old grand duke had died of illness before choosing an heir, and the two strongest claimants in the Grand Duchy had taken up arms to vie for the throne.

Baron Wembley had pledged his allegiance to the old grand duke's eldest son, Jola Silver Maple, who had already proclaimed himself grand duke. His rival for the throne was his younger brother, Marquis Mora Silver Maple, who had likewise proclaimed himself Grand Duke Mora. Within Jola's Allied Army, however, he was still called Marquis Mora.

As Vera was a grand duchy, only heirs to its throne could be granted the title of marquis; otherwise, the highest noble rank was earl. Since both men had reached adulthood and been made marquises, each had a claim to the grand duke's seat.

The eastern and Central nobles supported Grand Duke Jola, whose maternal grandfather was the east's only earl, Earl Blake Great Oak. The western and southern nobles supported Marquis Mora, while the Northern Three Commanderies remained neutral under the leadership of Baron Colt Iron Birch.

Baron Wembley's domain lay in Bole County in the east, and he was an independent noble. Nobles here fell into two main categories: independent nobles, whose lands and titles were hereditary, and Court Nobles directly under the Ducal House, who could hold fiefs but whose lands the grand duke could reclaim at any time.

To support Grand Duke Jola, the three noble counties in the east had mobilized twenty thousand professional fighting men and fifty thousand serfs, organizing them into three legions. Victor belonged to the light cavalry battalion of the eastern Third Legion, which consisted of six companies, each with three squads, for a total strength of more than six hundred men with two horses apiece. It also had one thousand attached auxiliary troops, each with one horse. Together with the three legions of the Central nobles' Allied Army and the four formations of the Duchy's Direct Legion under the grand duke himself, their forces totaled two hundred thousand, including more than seventy thousand professional fighting men. Their fighting strength was formidable indeed.

At the start of the war, Grand Duke Jola had relied on the Blackwater River, which ran through the Grand Duchy from east to west. Taking advantage of water transport, he had rapidly assembled his legions, concentrated superior numbers, and crushed two legions from the Western Three Counties outright.

After leaving half a legion to hold the area, he had swiftly marched south and intercepted Mora's five main legions, which were heading north as reinforcements, at the border between southern Hampshire and western Fude County.

Outnumbered, Grand Duke Mora could only retreat to Lavork, the county seat of Fude County, and attempt to hold his ground.

Under Grand Duke Jola's leadership, we've gained an enormous advantage. Marquis Mora probably won't hold out much longer, and the war will soon be over. It seems neither war nor combat meets the conditions for activating my golden finger. I'll have to try something else, Victor mused.

"Victor!" A brown-haired young man came running from a distance, calling as he ran, "Your retainers are here to see you! They're at the camp entrance! They look like they're in a hurry, as though they have something important to tell you."

The black-haired young man, Victor, looked up at the newcomer. It was his good friend, James Blue Rose, the second son of Viscount Blue Rose.

"All right, James, I'll head over now. Feed my horses for me."

"You certainly know how to boss people around," James replied. "Once we're back in the county, you have to treat me to a meal at Oak Hall. And there had better be Tears of the Black Pearl."

Despite his words, he obediently went to fetch Victor's horses.

Victor quickly set down his equipment, rose, and ran toward the camp entrance.

Why would Father suddenly send someone for me now? Victor wondered.

When Victor reached the camp gates, he saw who had come.

It was Santos, the captain of his father's guards, accompanied by four other soldiers who were also his father's personal guards. Each led a horse, and all wore chain mail over their athletic frames.

Guard Captain Santos looked grave, unease flickering in his eyes.

"Young master, Baron Wembley sent me to find you," Santos said, panting.

Victor looked Santos straight in the eye. He knew that if his father had sent someone for him at a time like this, it had to be important.

"What are Father's instructions?" Victor asked, his voice calm and firm.

Santos answered solemnly, "Through his friend, Baron Walker Black Oil Pine, the baron received intelligence that the northern nobles' Allied Army has mobilized fifty thousand men under Baron Colt and is marching south to support Marquis Mora."

Victor's brows drew together slightly at the news. Fifty thousand men were a force neither side could afford to underestimate. Still, he did not believe they were enough to turn the tide.

"Fifty thousand? Even so, Mora can't turn defeat into victory. There's no need to worry," Victor said after a moment's thought.

Santos shook his head, however, a trace of worry in his voice. "Young master, the northern nobles are different from the others. They fight the Barbarians year after year. They're fierce, and their forces are powerful. More than half of those fifty thousand are professional fighting men, and even the remaining auxiliary troops can't be taken lightly. They also have an exceptionally high proportion of cavalry, including the Iron Birch Family's two thousand Iron Knights. They're extremely dangerous."

Victor's heart tightened at those words. He knew that Baron Colt's domain was indeed vast, the largest held by any independent noble in the Grand Duchy of Vera. He controlled North York County, one of the Northern Three Commanderies, and half of Bria County, with two legions directly under his command. Years of fighting in the north had made his forces extraordinarily powerful. In particular, relying on his heavy cavalry force, the Iron Knights, he had used his status as a border noble to push north, rout the Barbarians, and expand his lands. Such an opponent was no easy foe.

"Baron Colt is certainly powerful, but marching south will take time. If we prepare now, there shouldn't be any problems," Victor said.

Santos nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Baron Wembley and Baron Walker Black Oil Pine reported the situation to Grand Duke Jola together, but the grand duke believes the Northern Alliance won't reach the south so quickly. He thinks he has enough time to take Lavork and defeat Mora once and for all. The baron is worried, however, and sent the five of us to protect you, just in case."

Victor drew a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility grow heavier on his shoulders.

He knew his father's concern was not needless, but born of profound love and responsibility. He could not disappoint his father's expectations, nor could he let the family fall into danger.

"I understand. I'm grateful for Father's concern and for your protection. I'll act carefully and make sure I stay safe," Victor said firmly.

Santos saluted. "Rest assured, young master. We'll do everything in our power to keep you safe. No matter how many hardships and dangers lie ahead, we'll fight by your side."

After arranging for Santos to rest in the camp, Victor returned to his own tent to get some rest.

As night fell, the atmosphere in the camp grew even more somber. Victor, too, had a premonition that the next battle would be exceptionally difficult.