The Conscription Order

"Return to the Grand Capital?"

Aurelian Sol had certainly considered this question.

However, he was a bastard, and not a particularly welcome one at that. While there wasn't a single noble who hadn't sired a bastard, the matter was ultimately something that could not be brought into the light.

Moreover, he was not truly Aurelian; he was merely someone else who possessed the same memories.

If someone capable in the King's inner circle were to notice, he would be finished. He might even be branded a devil and sent straight to the stake.

Winter Territory was the most suitable place for him; it was free, devoid of oversight, and here, he was supreme.

Although, to other nobles, this place was nothing more than a cage—a cage sitting beside a starving tiger, ready to devour anyone at any moment.

Thinking of this, Aurelian shook his head and said, "There is no path for us back in the country. Otto's attitude is already quite clear. There is no place for us there."

"Ah, this..."

Hume the fat man froze. Only then did he recall his lord's identity, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of sympathy.

This lord was born to the King and a mysterious noblewoman. When Otto brought him to the Grand Capital, the jaws of every great noble had hit the floor.

Otto Archimonde, known for his cruelty and bloodlust, the supreme Emperor of the Star Empire, had actually acknowledged this bastard son.

It was a pity, however, that the King did not treat him well; he had merely acknowledged him, nothing more.

"So, Hume, abandon your fantasies and prepare for the struggle. Though this place is cruel, it is the most suitable for us. Let us work together to build a powerful Winter, and make those cowardly nobles nearby shiver in the cold!"

"Yes!"

Aurelian's passionate words stirred the fat man, Hume. Despite his usual timidity, he felt his blood boiling.

Perhaps the Lord's words would come to pass, just as he had promised that seeds would sprout in this strange, barren land.

Just as Aurelian was boosting morale, his vision began to distort once more.

It was that same twilight-like space, only now, he could vaguely see into the distance.

He widened his eyes, his gaze drifting toward the horizon.

"Is that... the sky collapsing?"

In the far distance, the dim, yellowish sky was tinged with blood. Patches of the firmament were crumbling downward like falling blocks of ice.

It was as if this world had reached its end, and the finality had arrived.

A white light appeared, but Aurelian turned his head, looking at the stone book floating before him.

He saw that the mysterious Stone Book had turned to the third page.

"The thread of fate is connected. The long night approaches. Your pathetic strength is not even enough to stop a chariot. With your helpers, cultivate your first elite knight. Reward: Obtain one hundred strong laborers."

"This... does this stone book also traffic in human beings?"

Aurelian gaped, unable to stop himself from retorting.

His vision distorted again, and when Aurelian came to his senses, only an instant had passed in reality.

"My Lord!"

Hume the fat man shouted with excitement; anyone who didn't know better would have thought he'd just won a million-coin jackpot.

"Alright, alright, I know of your enthusiasm. Now, go back, post a few recruitment notices in the town, and tell the residents that I, Aurelian Sol, am about to build a knight order. If anyone is willing to join, I will give them ten Moon Silver Coins—provided, of course, they pass the knight's examination."

"Understood, my Lord! I'll get right on it!" Hume the fat man suddenly felt full of drive, surely infected by the Lord's passion.

Aurelian rubbed his forehead; he felt exactly like the leader of a pyramid scheme.

After sending his administrative officer away, Aurelian didn't plan to rest. He threw a coat over his shoulders and stepped out of his room.

Charles had left the blacksmith shop long ago, having begged an iron sword from old Rune to serve as his weapon.

He looked at the dark, slightly notched longsword.

"From today on, you are my blade. I'll call you Black Blood; it feels quite fitting."

Every knight's longsword had its own name; this was an unspoken understanding among knights.

In the distant past, legends claimed that powerful weapons possessed spirits. They would witness all the glory of their master's campaigns, record an undying spirit, and pass it on to the next successor.

Thus, knights with strong convictions did not fear death; in their hearts, they had long since achieved immortality alongside their swords!

"Go for it!"

Charles cheered himself on and headed toward the training grounds where the knight squad was stationed.

The desolation along the way and the curious gazes could not stop Charles. He pressed forward, finally walking out of Frost Town and looking toward the massive castle on the mountaintop.

Charles was stunned. Was that Lord Aurelian's Winter City up there?

How magnificent.

"Hey! Kid, where are you going?"

An angry voice rang out from behind him.

Charles hurriedly looked back to see a knight, not wearing armor, riding a black warhorse toward him.

The black warhorse looked hideous, with blood-red eyes and two black protrusions on its head, appearing exceptionally terrifying as if it had come straight from hell.

"How terrifying."

Charles thought to himself, hurriedly taking a step back to avoid blocking the path of this fearsome knight.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am a knight under Lord Aurelian, and my name is Russell."

Russell looked down from his Barbarian Warhorse at the frightened little boy below. He did not mind the fear; instead, he felt quite pleased. The wine and women in the town were excellent, though he felt a pang of regret over those ten Moon Silver Coins—how had he spent them all? He really should have kept one as a souvenir.

"I... I am Charles. I am on my way to report to the Knight Commander."

Charles stammered due to his fear; there was no helping it, as that black warhorse possessed an overwhelming sense of oppression.

"Is that so? Looks like a newcomer. Get up here; I'll take you up. With that build of yours, if you tried to climb up, you'd end up lying on the ground."

Russell was uncharacteristically showing kindness, as he found the boy quite agreeable.

Because he saw the same resilience on Charles's face.

Master climbed out of bed before the sky had even brightened. He had never married and remained alone to this day.

He threw on a coat, grabbed Moonlight from the wall, and stepped out of his bedroom.

Exhaling a puff of white mist, he walked down to the training grounds.

He scraped the ground beneath his feet with his boot; hmm, a layer was missing.

A glimmer of yearning flashed in his eyes, and he immediately drew Moonlight, which radiated a cold glint, the blade ringing with a crisp, melodious sound.

Even though the sky was still dim and lacked much light, the sword remained dazzling and piercingly sharp.