Chapter 482: Attack Thunderclap City? Me?

The Northlands of Campbell, the County of North Creek.

The air here is filled with the fragrance of soil and the scent of wheat, like a poetic pastoral painting; the atmosphere is tranquil and serene.

Unlike the ceaseless clamor and black smoke of Thunderclap City, the most choking smoke here comes from nothing more than the chimneys of the castle kitchen and the cigar in the lord's hand.

Right in the center of the North Creek Valley, Gladstone Castle stands tall and imposing.

This fortress, built of granite, is like a loyal sentry, standing firm on the high ground for hundreds of years, overlooking the vast territory bestowed by its ancestors.

The endless wheat fields have just finished their autumn harvest, leaving only neat stubble and gaunt serfs swaying in the cool autumn breeze.

Scattered farmsteads dot the landscape, windmills turn slowly, and everything is in perfect order.

This is the northernmost castle of the Principality of Campbell, separated from the crisis-ridden Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng by only a single barrier known as Torrent Pass.

At this moment, on the castle's highest terrace, two men of vastly different builds stand side by side, gazing out at this peaceful land.

The man standing on the left is the master of the castle, Count Derrick Gladstone.

He is nearing fifty, yet his body remains burly and robust; his weathered face is carved with determination, much like the city walls beneath his feet.

The frost of time has not worn away his valor; instead, it has settled into a seasoned, dignified majesty, along with a slickness hidden beneath that majesty.

It is precisely because of this valor and slickness that the wildfire of the greenwood that ravaged the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng never burned here, located below the Rushing River.

Of course, it might also be that he simply credited this achievement to himself.

And at this moment, the other young man standing beside him is the equally renowned Jieluoke Campbell of the Campbell Principality.

He is Edward's younger brother, slightly older than Princess Ailin. He wears silver-blue armor, with the crest of the Trident Knights engraved on his breastplate.

Unlike his brother's increasingly profound depth of character, his face still carries the sharp edge of a young man, along with a trace of imperceptible restlessness.

"... Whenever I am in a bad mood, I come here to stay for a while."

Derrick opened the conversation, squinting as he gazed at the slowly turning windmills, speaking to the young man beside him in a casual tone.

"I think of how, hundreds of years ago, the head of the Gladstone family stood in this same position, gazing at the same scenery, smiling at the corrosion of hell and chaos, smiling as the clamorous winds blew past us... It was like that before, and it remains so now."

Although Jieluoke is not old, he knows what this vassal, who owes allegiance to his brother, is talking about.

As the head of the northern vassals, and with Count Derrick being a lord known for his valor, the conservative forces of the Campbell Principality naturally rallied under his banner.

In their view, Edward's excessive closeness to those lowly commoners and profit-seeking merchants is a desecration of ancestral jurisprudence. And the so-called reforms he is pushing are shaking the sacred and inviolable authority of the nobility, which is an act of total depravity.

Of course, Jieluoke believes they do not intend to rebel, but rather, like himself, are trying to use this method to pressure his brother and force him back onto the right path.

Instead of leading his sister and the Campbell family down a path of no return...

"I... hope so."

Jieluoke said a line someone had just spoken not long ago, looking at the peaceful pastoral scenery in the distance, his heart filled with complexity.

Sometimes he does not understand what his brother is pursuing, but he always feels this is not what his father expected to see.

Count Derrick seems to have seen through his inner struggle and continues to persuade him earnestly.

"We all hope so, hope that our principality gets better and better, rather than becoming a tool to satisfy someone's ambition. Look at the wheat fields in the distance; everything here is so beautiful. Our farmers work at sunrise and rest at sunset, loyally serving their lord. Our knights are loyal and reliable, defending our territory."

"This is what Campbell should look like, and what our kingdom should look like, simple and full of hope... I believe if my ancestors were standing here, they would surely be proud of our choice!"

And it was right when he said this that Count Derrick's tone shifted, carrying a trace of undisguised disdain.

"However, not everyone is worthy of their pride. You know which place I am talking about, that Thunderclap City; I don't know from which day it started, but that place has become increasingly foul."

Jieluoke took a deep breath.

"I have heard Princess Ailin talk about things there."

Derrick grinned.

"Princess Ailin... she is too young after all. Our principality is vast; there are places she can see, and places she cannot. And in the corners she cannot see, our foundation has already been corroded until it is riddled with holes."

"The citizens have become free and loose, profit-seeking, forgetting the respect due to the nobility just because they have a few stinking coins in their pockets. And those farmers are even worse; they have actually forgotten how to farm, and even dream of settling down in Thunderclap City. Including those barons, who have actually moved in to become neighbors with commoners. Ha... I think their heads have been kicked by donkeys!"

When he said this, Derrick skillfully steered the topic toward Jieluoke himself, his eyes flashing with expectant light.

"Your Highness, with your intelligence, you must know what I am talking about. The Kingdom of Lain is the home of knights, and the Campbell Principality is the model of the home of knights. Rather than following an ambitious person, we would rather unite around a truly noble knight. And you and I both know who the true knight is."

Although these words were not spelled out, they were only a thin layer of window paper away from being clear.

Logically speaking, Jieluoke should be furious, rebuke him, and demand that the latter forget what was said today to maintain the stability of the principality.

If it were Princess Ailin, she would certainly do so.

But Jieluoke is not Princess Ailin after all; his dissatisfaction with his brother is not only because of the conflict in philosophy, but also because the latter did not receive the recognition of the Light of Proclamation.

Regardless of what idea his father had when he handed that sword to Princess Ailin, whether it was a carefully considered choice or a flash of inspiration on his deathbed, it undoubtedly weakened Edward's legitimacy.

Jieluoke looked silently at the poor but fulfilled serfs below the castle, and then thought of the unruly commoners running wild outside Thunderclap City and the mud-legged workers shouting for wage increases in front of the factories, and he could not help but think his brother had gone too far and had long since deviated from the duties of a noble.

If it were before, would they have had the guts?

Of course, there weren't that many factories in Thunderclap City before, and the population wasn't that dense either.

"Count, what you say makes sense; my brother is indeed not a qualified knight, but..." Jieluoke nodded, but his tone carried hesitation, "I still believe that my brother was just temporarily blinded by those profit-seeking merchants, especially that Yan Andi. If he is willing to return to the right path, I am very supportive of him."

They are family, after all; blood is thicker than water.

Although he feels he should do something for this principality, when he closes his eyes, what appears in his mind is not only the serfs who have lost their land, but also the face that occupied his entire childhood memory.

Perhaps—

They don't necessarily have to reach the point of clashing with weapons.

In the past, there have been differences between lords and vassals in the Campbell Principality, and most of the time they ended with "both sides taking a step back," ending with dignity.

Now, the Trident Knights have already stood on the side of the traditional nobility, two of the three counts clearly support returning to the past, and the remaining Count of South Creek is also at odds with Campbell Castle.

Any rational duke would recognize the reality at this moment and would not truly drag everyone into a civil war.

After all, once it reaches that point, it is the Campbell people who will die, and only the demons of hell will laugh out loud.

Looking at this young man before him who still held onto unrealistic fantasies, Count Derrick sighed inwardly.

Too naive!

If it were in the past, his fantasies might truly have been possible to realize. Both sides would weigh their own chances of winning and then make compromises on non-core interests, ultimately maintaining a superficial harmony.

For instance, taking a portion of the tax revenue from Thunder City to provide financial subsidies to the three earldoms whose primary source of wealth was agriculture.

As long as the treasury remained unaffected, most nobles actually did not care that much about tradition; even Count Derrick himself had purchased property in Thunder City.

But now, it is different.

Edward has already been drawn into the game with the Kingdom of Lane, and the De Valu family has already stretched its hands into the Campbell Duchy, becoming the power behind all the traditional nobles.

As for Edward himself, standing behind him is also a backer, and that is the Imperial Prince who is deeply involved in the development of Thunder City!

This is already an irreconcilable struggle over the path forward, a life-and-death battle that will decide where the Campbell Duchy goes in the future!

Edward absolutely cannot back down.

The nobles who represent the traditional forces, of course, also cannot back down.

"Your Highness is kind-hearted and admirable, but you must also think of the long-term future of the Campbell family."

He sighed lightly, putting on the appearance of being worried about the future of the Campbell family.

"Although Her Highness Princess Ailin has repeatedly performed meritorious deeds on the front lines, you and I both know the side effects of the 'Light of Eulogy'... In the event, and I mean in the event, that this miracle is built upon the grace of Saint Saint Xisi, she perhaps will not follow the footsteps of my Lord for too long."

He observed Jerok's expression and, without waiting for the latter to speak, brought the hint hidden in his words out into the open.

"If such a thing happens, that 'Light of Eulogy' which symbolizes the orthodoxy of Campbell will surely choose a new master who possesses both strength and virtue. I think the vast majority of nobles would likely be more inclined to support a noble knight like you, rather than your brother who neglects martial arts and is intoxicated by power struggles."

"Enough! Count Gladstone!"

Jerok finally could not help but interrupt him, his tone somewhat stiff, "I respect you very much, but I do not wish to think this way. Besides, my sister is very young and very healthy. She will return safely!"

"I... of course also hope for Her Highness Princess Ailin's longevity, but I also hope that you can carefully consider this issue."

Count Derrick slowed his tone and reminded him with a well-meaning voice.

"This is not just for yourself, but also for those knights who follow you, and for all the people who hope for the Duchy to return to the right path."

It is a pity.

Jerok's heart is still not ruthless enough, and his determination is not firm enough.

But he cannot wait any longer.

Edward has already stretched his hands toward the Twilight Saint Saint Xingsheng, attempting to replicate the Thunder City model there, uniting those small and medium nobles to hollow out the King's power.

Once he succeeds, the Grand Duke's strength will expand unprecedentedly; he will effectively control two duchies, and by then, His Majesty the King's influence over this land will be minimal.

They must take advantage of the time when there is still room for redemption to forcibly pull the Campbell Duchy back onto the "right track."

Otherwise, once Edward catches his breath, he will immediately deal with them!

The naive Jerok did not realize that the moment he disobeyed the mobilization order, he was already equivalent to standing on the opposite side of his brother.

The reason his brother turned a blind eye was by no means because of any brotherly affection, but simply because he was "helpless" in the matter.

He was actually still fantasizing about using the Gladstone family's stance to pressure the Grand Duke, not knowing that he himself was that flag uniting all the traditional nobles, and also the greatest confidence that all Campbell nobles dared to resist.

Gladstone, on the other hand, could surrender and lose half, but those with the right of inheritance do not have this opportunity; there are only two endings: winning or dying.

With his back to the Torrent Pass that was struggling to recover, Derrick cast his gaze toward the direction of Thunder City, and a trace of imperceptible cold light flashed deep within those sharp eyes.

Perhaps—

It is time to create some opportunities for this future Grand Duke to ascend the throne...

Jerok did not stay on the castle for too long; the increasingly desolate autumn wind blew against his armor, and he could already feel a trace of winter's chill.

Although a Platinum-tier powerhouse would not frown at this bit of cold wind, there are, after all, very few powerhouses who enjoy self-abuse.

From this point of view, the farmers of Gladstone Castle are indeed more spirited. Despite wearing only thin clothes, they did not even frown.

The dinner was exceptionally sumptuous, with fresh and fatty roasted pork knuckles, as well as beef legs stewed until soft and ham as thin as cicada wings.

The guests drank the fine wine of Silver Pine Town and remained lively in the banquet hall until late at night before returning to their rooms with lingering interest.

And then, it was the second half of the banquet.

The Gladstone family adheres to tradition, especially the tradition regarding hospitality, and would never let distinguished guests spend a lonely night alone.

Especially at this time when unity is needed.

Young maids carrying washing utensils passed through the corridor, knocked on the doors one by one, and then pushed the doors open and walked in.

They actually did not resist doing this, and even felt honored; after all, regarding some things, it is really hard to say who took advantage of whom.

Like the knights under his command, Jerok was also dead drunk, seemingly wanting to use alcohol to extinguish the sorrow in his heart.

However, he did not indulge himself.

Like many knights who truly adhere to tradition, he righteously refused the second half of the banquet, just like the previous nights.

The family style of the Campbell family is very traditional, and they must never leave behind offspring that should not be left.

When she left carrying the washing utensils, the petite maid had a look of obvious disappointment on her face, seemingly regretting that she could not get the favor of the future Grand Duke.

He doesn't like the big ones, and he doesn't like the small ones either; Count Derrick is also worried sick for him. Could it be that what this knight gentleman actually likes is not women, but delicate and pretty boys?

She only thought about it for a second in her heart, then could not help but shiver, and hurriedly put away this devilish thought.

Saint Saint Xisi above, that would be too blasphemous...

It was not just Jerok who did not indulge himself, but also Count Derrick.

He remained sober throughout and, after the banquet ended, dismissed everyone, held a candle, and came to the underground of the castle.

Right beneath the solid granite foundation of Gladstone Castle, a space completely different from the pastoral scenery above ground was buried.

This is a secret sacrificial chamber.

Or perhaps, it could be called a "church."

The air flowing in the corridor was dark and damp, mixed with the smell of stale blood and a faint scent of sulfur. The light of the Saint Clement Cathedral could not shine here; only the flickering candlelight set off the twisted and blasphemous ancient runes, and in the corner, one could faintly hear rats gnawing on their teeth.

In the center of the altar stood a half-human-tall obsidian statue.

It had the head of a bull and the body of a human, with knotted muscles and a ferocious face, exuding pure fear and arrogance!

It is none other than—

The first Demon King of Thunder County!

And also the Demon King of all generations!

Derrick walked into the sacrificial chamber alone, his expression solemn, and lit the specially made incense on the altar.

The smoke rose, emitting a pungent odor.

He drew his personal dagger, skillfully cut his finger, dripped fresh blood into the groove at the base of the statue, and casually chanted a Light Spell to heal the wound.

A moment later, his piety remained unchanged, and he chanted an even more blasphemous eulogy, calling upon the demons of hell.

After about a minute, the eyes of the obsidian statue slowly lit up with a scarlet light, and a chaotic and vast will descended upon this room.

The statue had awakened, and those eyes were staring straight at him.

Feeling that majestic gaze, Count Derrick did not dare to be negligent and knelt respectfully on the ground, his forehead touching the cold stone slab.

"Salutations to you, great new king, Your Majesty Dragon... Please forgive my negligence; not contacting you for so long is truly because the situation on the surface is treacherous, and your loyal servant has been unable to attend to anything else."

He first expressed the "respect" and "loyalty" of the Gladstone family that had remained unchanged for generations, and then, in a tone suppressing excitement, described the current "dangerous situation" of the Campbell Duchy.

That was the bait thrown to the demon.

"Your Majesty! Just as I said, Thunder City is falling into unprecedented turmoil! The foolish Edward has emptied the family wealth of the nobles, driven the farmers to the factories, and sent them to the battlefield in the north. Now, Thunder City is empty inside and has no strength to fight again!"

"I know Aaron Campbell left you with too deep an impression, but that guy is already dead, and the current Light of Eulogy is caught in a disagreement with the Tribunal! The city above your head is like a rotten house; you only need to step forward and kick it, and you can kick it down!"

Derrick raised his head, clenched his fists, and stood up from the floor, his eyes flashing with fake fanaticism, and he continued with high spirits.

"This is a once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity—"

"There is no better time than this to counterattack the surface!"

Xino Dragon: "...?"