The Highlands lie to the west of the Windfire Plains, covering an extremely vast area, dotted with numerous noble families of various sizes.
Unlike the Windfire Plains, which are ruled by the Bluebloods, the Wellington family holds a dominant position in the Highlands. The red lion flag covers most of the territory, forcing other nobles to tremble and submit in its shadow.
Just a few years ago, under the leadership of the new heir, the Wellington family began their true campaign to unify the Highlands, and even secretly prepared to establish a duchy.
Lionheart City.
Originally built by one of the ancient five kings, the Lionheart King, this city has now become the ruling center of the Wellington family.
At this moment, a grand banquet is being held.
Just two days ago, the outstanding heir, “The Cub” Arthur Wellington, led his army to destroy the last resisting family in the western Highlands—the Kaidon family.
From this moment on, the entire Highlands have completely submitted to the authority of the Wellington family.
This is not the previous feudal system of mutual checks and balances among nobles, but a complete conquest!
All members of the Wellington family are celebrating, and the establishment of a duchy has officially been placed on the agenda.
They believe that once unified, the entire strength of the Highlands will be effectively integrated, allowing them to recreate the legendary achievements of the Lionheart King who once dominated the continent!
At this grand banquet, Arthur Wellington is naturally the most eye-catching protagonist.
He appears to be only around sixteen or seventeen years old, with a head of golden curls, and his face always carries a gentle smile, like a shy older boy next door.
“Our family has achieved one great victory after another. At this moment, there is no one in the Highlands who dares to oppose us… and in the east, our family knights have captured the Death Canyon, securing a passage to the Windfire Plains… I believe that in the future, a great kingdom spanning the entire Sear Continent will be born in our generation!”
As Arthur, holding a glass of red wine in one hand, passionately delivers his speech, a servant hurriedly runs over and whispers a few words into his ear.
“Excuse me… everyone!”
His expression changes, yet he politely apologizes: “We’ve encountered a small issue at the stables. I must take my leave first!”
Under the guidance of a servant, Arthur quickly leaves the hall and heads to a study at the back.
Bang!
The door slams shut. The study, filled with bookshelves and ancient tomes, feels quite cramped. Dozens of candles burn brightly, dripping wax that forms stalactite-like shapes.
“Father! I heard that the homing pigeon brought news!”
Arthur bows to the middle-aged noble behind the desk, who wears a tailcoat and a golden wig, his face bearing a strong resemblance to Arthur: “Has something happened on the Windfire Plains?”
“It’s Garcia and Gale!”
The middle-aged noble sighs: “These two failures have ruined everything! Now nearly half of the four thousand men we sent east have been lost, and Gale’s fate is still unknown…”
“Oh? Has the Double Eagle Strategy failed?”
Arthur takes the letter with a mocking smile: “Back at the family council, I already said that only by clenching five fingers into a fist, directing all strength in one direction, can we achieve the greatest effect! Dividing our attention among multiple fronts will only lead to failure!”
The middle-aged noble falls silent.
In fact, the plan wasn’t entirely flawed—first sending Garcia to probe the Bluebloods’ strength, then seizing a foothold into the Windfire Plains at the right moment.
At least during the initial execution phase, everything proceeded quite smoothly, even briefly capturing Howling Castle, nearly achieving success.
Unfortunately, later developments exceeded his expectations.
A grand alliance of Blueblood nobles? The Conqueror William Wallace? And the Proof of Kingship?
Arthur reads the letter, his pupils slightly constricting, before a hard-to-suppress excitement appears on his face: “Has the Blue Diamond Crown appeared?”
“I’ll go!”
He looks at his father, the current Duke of Wellington, with a determined expression: “Let me take some men to reinforce Garcia! I’m very interested in this William!”
“I can give you twenty thousand soldiers!”
The Duke of Wellington hesitates slightly before making a decision: “The Bluebloods only have ten thousand troops. You should head there immediately and rendezvous with Garcia!”
In his view, with the advantage of terrain and Garcia’s existing forces, the Death Canyon should be as solid as a fortress, absolutely impregnable!
“I understand!”
Arthur touches the hilt of his sword, a flicker of unusual light in his eyes…
…
Death Canyon, Eagle Fortress.
After having a dinner of veal steak and vegetable soup, Garcia once again patrols the castle and discusses several weak defensive points with the guarding knights before finally returning to his bedroom.
“The family should have received the request for reinforcements by now and will send troops soon. Without interference from other families, this time we can deploy our full strength, which will surely match William’s army…”
Lying half on the bed, Garcia muses slightly: “But this means my future rights and interests in the Windfire Plains can no longer be guaranteed. It would already be fortunate if I could obtain a viscount’s fief as before…”
He sighs softly, about to blow out the candle, when suddenly a loud noise erupts.
“Kill them all!”
“Enemy attack!”
Bang! Bang!
Faint cries of battle emerge, growing louder and louder.
“Enemy attack?”
Garcia jumps up, instinctively grabbing the hilt of his cross sword.
“My Lord!”
The door bursts open violently as Merlin rushes in, his gray robe marked with several scorched spots, looking somewhat disheveled: “We must leave now!”
“What happened out there?”
Garcia’s expression turns serious.
“It’s the Bluebloods!”
Merlin takes a deep breath: “The Conqueror sent spies into the fortress. Those Blueblood nobles and knights were persuaded to defect, secretly lowering the drawbridge and opening the castle gates!”
“Damn it! You didn’t foresee this!”
Garcia’s face darkens as he stares at the wizard before him.
“I’m sorry… the enemy also had magical protection. They sent an elite squad entirely composed of knights to infiltrate the fortress. I fought them, and there were at least two witches among them!”
Merlin still feels somewhat shaken—if not for his quick escape, he probably wouldn’t have made it out.
Garcia is momentarily speechless, hastily pulling on his robe and rushing to the balcony.
Boom!
The ground slightly trembles, as if a god is roaring.
In the flickering firelight, he sees a large number of armored soldiers pouring through the city gates and charging toward the barracks.
“Charge!”
A group of soldiers bravely rushes forward to resist, but in the face of betrayal by their comrades and the sudden attack, all resistance proves futile. The leading knight is even cut into dozens of pieces.
“That’s Sir Smith!”
Garcia falls silent.
Although this knight often opposed him and had various flaws, in this moment of danger, he proved his loyalty through action.
Unfortunately, despite being a knight himself, he was hopelessly outnumbered and brutally dismembered by several knights.
In the darkness, numerous shadowy figures leap nimbly, wielding heavy lances and swords as if they weigh nothing.
“A special forces unit entirely composed of knights?”
Viscount Garcia is utterly stunned: “Even combining all the Honor Knights wouldn’t be enough… Also, where did William get so much Holy Oil?”
Cultivating a true knight requires an enormous amount of resources.
Moreover, even with sufficient Holy Oil, reaching the human physical limit required for the knighthood ritual is not something everyone can achieve.
Wu Ming cultivated children in his territory, training them from an early age and teaching them special techniques to lay the foundation.
He had already prepared the initial cultivation methods and Holy Oil, so once he or his subordinates unlocked supernatural abilities, they could use arcane powers to forcibly accelerate the creation of a batch of “half-knights.”
Although not as invincible as true knights, their requirements are significantly lower, and their costs are incomparable.
Just like earlier, when several knights attacked together, even though Sir Smith was incredibly powerful, he still met his end.
“We must leave!”
Seeing that the situation is beyond salvation, Garcia cannot describe the complex emotions swirling inside him.
All he can do now is escape as quickly as possible under the protection of several loyal followers and the wizard Merlin before the enemy pursues him.
The flames and cries of battle continue throughout the night.
By the next day, when Wu Ming enters Eagle Fortress, the stench of blood still lingers.
“My King, you are the embodiment of the sun and moon in the heavens, the master of the Windfire Plains, the king of us Bluebloods!”
Before the castle, several nobles and knights wait anxiously. As soon as they see Wu Ming, they immediately kneel and perform a very solemn ceremony.
“Sir Soros, Sir Barrin… you have made the right choice!”
The timely decision of these Bluebloods to abandon the enemy and return to the right side is naturally excellent news for Wu Ming.
At the very least, before the second wave of Highland forces arrives, he has successfully kept the Red Lions firmly outside the Death Canyon, gaining the upper hand.
“You will be rewarded!”
After a moment’s thought, Wu Ming solemnly declares: “Soros Markel, I hereby appoint you Baron of Eagle Fortress, with the Death Canyon as your fief!”
“And Sir Barrin, you shall receive two nearby knightly estates as your personal domain!”
“Thank you, gracious and generous King! We shall offer you our unwavering loyalty and everything we possess!”
Granting land is naturally the most substantial reward. The two nobles’ faces flush with excitement as they bow again.
Wu Ming waves his hand dismissively and climbs to the highest point of the fortress. The mountain wind is fierce as he gazes into the distance, seemingly already seeing the Highland knightly forces galloping toward him without pause.
“The real battle is just beginning!”
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