Chapter 60 : Chapter 60

Chapter 60. Undercurrents Stir

Three days.

For three full days, Obsidian Territory Valley had run at high speed like a machine wound to the limit, driven by urgency.

Under Buck’s near-harsh supervision, the trap zone had begun to take shape.

A broad killing ground had been carved out along the forest’s edge, and pit traps had been dug.

At the bottom of each pit were sharpened wooden stakes and vicious spikes fashioned from discarded iron, all concealed beneath a thin layer of earth and dead leaves.

Rows of thick chevaux-de-frise had been driven deep into the ground, their sharpened wooden spikes angled toward the forest.

Under Leon’s direction, large beast traps were being forged day and night in frantic batches, then deployed in quantity along key paths.

Slaves and freefolk alike labored in pouring sweat. Under Old John’s coordination, timber and stone were being continuously hauled to the wall construction site.

The location of the fire-oil trench had been marked out by Vick and his men, and excavation was proceeding with full force.

Then, in the midst of this tension, word came from the watchtower at the mouth of the valley: the people of Easton Territory, Clive Territory, and Frost Territory had arrived.

Eli personally went to the valley entrance to receive them.

The sight that met his eyes made his brow ease slightly, yet carried with it a trace of heaviness.

The three groups came pouring into Black Territory Valley like refugees fleeing disaster.

Griffin rode a thin horse, followed by a sparse handful of soldiers, only a few dozen in all. Their equipment was crude, and their faces were worn with exhaustion.

There were even more commoners behind them, dressed in ragged clothes, supporting the old and carrying the young, pushing wheelbarrows loaded with their pitiful belongings or bearing bundles on their backs.

Hans’s group was in somewhat better condition. Their experience in defending with mountain rocks and narrow passes had made their withdrawal far more organized.

The proportion of soldiers was a little higher, though every one of them bore wounds.

Lady Emilia’s group was the largest. The proportion of women and children was extremely high, but their order was also the most chaotic.

They had brought little grain with them, and their weapons were even more limited.

“Sir Eli!” Griffin was the first to swing down from his horse and rush before Eli, his face full of tangled emotions.

“Thank you for your warning! We... we came!”

With the support of her maid, Emilia walked forward. This lady, who was usually so strong, now had reddened eyes. She bent slightly in a curtsey.

“Lord Pendragon... thank you for your warning! Had your messenger not arrived in time... we... we likely would already have...”

She did not finish, but everyone understood what remained unsaid.

Before a beast tide that blotted out the sky and covered the earth, their crude defenses would not have held even for a moment.

If they had stayed, there would have been only one path left—death.

Eli raised a hand slightly to steady Emilia, then swept his gaze across the three allies and the great crowd behind them, speaking in a low voice.

“It is good that you came. Black Territory is your home now. Estor!”

“Young Master!” Estor stepped forward at once.

“Make the arrangements immediately! Give priority shelter and basic food to the elderly, the weak, the women, and the children!

The soldiers will be temporarily assigned to the new recruit camp and reorganized under Captain Buck’s unified command!

The three lords and their families will come with me to the lord’s keep.”

“Yes, sir!” Estor accepted the order and immediately began calling for men to guide and settle these hundreds of newcomers, all still shaken from terror.

Griffin, Hans, and Emilia followed behind Eli into the Black Territory camp.

Yet after only a few steps, all three slowed involuntarily, their eyes sweeping over everything before them.

The construction sites were busy but orderly: slaves and freefolk, under the direction of overseers, shouted work chants as they carried stone, dug foundations, and built shelters.

Enormous logs were being dragged toward the wall by rope and rolling timber, and the entire place blazed with activity.

The walls had already begun to take shape: though not high yet, the thick and steadily stretching stone walls radiated a sense of solid reassurance.

The territory was cleanly laid out: residential quarters, workshops, the training ground... all of it was still crude, but the divisions were clear and the roads were level.

From the direction of the new recruit camp came Captain Buck’s stern voice drilling the men, followed by the soldiers’ unified shouts.

Everything before them stood in complete contrast to their own frontier settlements, which resembled little more than refugee camps—crude, chaotic, and always on the edge of collapse.

As Griffin looked upon the ordered scene before him, his Adam’s apple bobbed with difficulty. In the end, all that emerged was a bitter sigh.

“We’re all Frontier Knights... and yet this gap between us... ah...”

A warm current, the relief of surviving disaster, surged through the hearts of all three.

Along with it came an even deeper reverence and gratitude toward Eli Pendragon, their Alliance Lord.

How fortunate.

How fortunate that, back in Shadow Vale, they had made the single correct choice of their lives and followed this young lord.

Otherwise, by now, they and their subjects alike would likely have become nothing more than dried bones upon the wasteland.

Eli took in every nuance of their complicated expressions, but said nothing.

He simply led them into the lord’s keep so they could settle briefly, then gave them a short explanation of Black Territory’s current defensive deployment.

After sending off the three allies, whose emotions were still surging, Eli prepared to return to the council hall to deal with the mountain of military documents already piling up.

But at that moment, the pale blue screen in his mind silently unfolded.

A deep purple beam of light suddenly flared.

[Purple: The beast concentrations in the core region of Nightsong Forest have begun to show clear movement. Large groups are now starting to move in an organized manner toward the forest’s edge!]

Eli’s steps froze instantly in place, and his pupils contracted.

It had begun. Those beasts... had finally started moving.

There was even less time than he had expected.

...

At the same time, in Shadow Vale, inside the council hall of the lord’s residence—

Sabda sat at the head of the table, his delicate, handsome face utterly devoid of a smile, cold to the core.

On either side below him sat several of his trusted Southern Frontier nobles.

And near the corner of the council hall sat three Frontier Lords—the very same three who had chosen to remain in Shadow Vale and join Sabda’s alliance during the earlier assembly.

Only now, their faces were dreadfully ugly, their eyes filled with fury and deep regret.

They had been “invited” here to discuss matters as though they were prisoners.

Meanwhile, their territories had long since been forcibly taken over by Sabda’s trusted men, who had arrived with Southern Frontier soldiers.

All of it was done in the name of “unified defense,” but in truth it was naked annexation.

They had been completely stripped of power and reduced to Sabda’s prisoners.

One of the lords looked at Sabda’s cold profile, then at the Southern Frontier guards watching them like hawks, furious yet not daring to speak.

Why? Why had he not fled with Griffin and the others back then?

Now... everything was over.

“Luke,” Sabda’s cold voice shattered the silence, “has anything happened recently?”

Luke rose at once.

“Reporting to Young Master! Everything else is normal, but there is one strange thing—our hunting parties have all returned empty-handed. The situation is... very strange!”

He swallowed. “They say the forest is too quiet. So quiet it’s frightening! Forget prey, they couldn’t even hear a single bird cry!

It’s as though every living thing either hid itself away or fled! The hunting parties went in a fair distance and didn’t bring back so much as a single beast hair!”

“Deathly silence...” Sabda’s brows knitted as well.

“Young Master,” said Ragnar, seated at Sabda’s left, his face cold and stern.

He was one of the very few nobles under Sabda who truly possessed both brains and ability.

“This matter is far too abnormal. The large-scale disappearance of beasts, and the core region of the forest... even the scouts we sent in previously reported abnormalities there.

This is absolutely not a matter of weather, nor of a temporary local food shortage.

Could it be... the sign of some greater calamity?”

He paused, his tone more solemn than ever before. “Such as... a beast tide?”

“A beast tide?” Luke gave a snort of laughter, his contempt obvious.

“Ragnar, have you gone soft from fear? A beast tide? Those are just old stories from decades ago.

I say some powerful magical beast appeared in the forest and either drove off the other beasts or devoured them.”

Another Southern Frontier noble stood and echoed Luke’s words.

“Luke has a point! Ragnar, you are being too cautious! What matters most right now is consolidating our strength and guarding against that Eli taking advantage of the moment to make a move!

As for the forest, we only need to send more scouts deeper inside and investigate properly.

All we need to do is strengthen the outer defenses!”

After speaking, he deliberately cast Ragnar a glance, tinged with provocation.

“I am only stating one possibility,” Ragnar replied, still calm.

Sabda’s gaze passed between the two men as he fell into thought.

He did not dismiss Ragnar’s caution entirely. The forest’s abnormalities did make him uneasy.

But at the moment, the more pressing threat still seemed to be that white-haired baron who had made him lose face so thoroughly.

“Enough.” Sabda raised a hand, cutting off any further argument before it could begin.

“Ragnar’s concern is not without reason, and Luke is not wrong either.

There is indeed something strange in the forest, and we cannot neglect it.

We will proceed as suggested. Triple the number of scouts and send them deep into the forest to determine the cause, no matter what.

At the same time, all defensive works in Shadow Vale are to enter a state of alert!

Reinforce the watchtowers and double the patrols!”

“Yes, Young Master!” Luke and the other noble responded at once, loudly and eagerly, then cast Ragnar triumphant looks.

Sabda looked at the gathered men, and a smile suddenly appeared on his face.

Slowly, he rose to his feet.

“Gentlemen, there is no need for excessive worry. Because I have another piece of good news to announce!”

He paused deliberately.

“Yesterday, I received a secret letter from the family.

In order to support our great pioneering enterprise in the Western Frontier, and even more so to answer certain... overconfident provocateurs, my father, the honorable Duke Hackson Medici, has decided to send reinforcements!”

His gaze swept over the Southern Frontier nobles, whose eyes had instantly grown fervent, and he announced the words one by one.

“One Gold Tier knight, and... two hundred well-equipped elite soldiers of the family, will soon arrive in Shadow Vale!”

“A Gold Tier knight?!”

“Two hundred elites?!”

“The Duke is wise!!”

The council hall instantly erupted in thunderous cheers.

The Southern Frontier nobles, in particular, were so excited that their faces flushed red.

A Gold Tier knight—this was the kind of top-tier force that could change the balance of a battlefield.

And in addition to that, two hundred highly trained elite soldiers!

Previously, they had been suppressed by the Gold Tier knight beside Eli.

Sabda looked at his fanatical followers below, and at the three captive lords, whose faces had gone pale as earth, and a cold curve rose at the corner of his mouth.

These reinforcements had not come without a price.

He had lowered himself and written to his father, exaggerating to the utmost Eli Pendragon’s arrogance and the insult he had dealt to House Medici.

Only then had he managed to secure this aid.

But it had come with conditions as well: win merit in battle, obtain a title, and replace Eli.

His gaze seemed to pierce through the walls of the lord’s residence and cast itself toward Black Territory, filled with bone-deep hatred and the pleasure of revenge drawing near.