Battle cries shook the heavens and earth.
It was as if black arrows covered the sky, and countless undead swarmed past her from the crimson earth. Behind her, she could not tell if it was the screams of human misery, despair, or anger. Freya tried her best to turn around, but she could not move. Then, she saw a Knight wrapped in white phosphorous flames riding on a skeletal warhorse towards her. The Knight looked down at her from above, and she had to relive that burning gaze every night for the past week.
But the dream was so real that Freya was too nervous to speak. She stared at the Knight with wide eyes.
"You shouldn't have woken up. The fate of the descendants of the Valkyries is too heavy," the Knight said with a hoarse voice. "Don't give up everything for an unrealistic belief."
The Knight raised his sword. "Back off, or you will have nowhere to run!" The voice was like a stern warning. The Knight's hand moved forward, and the cold blade pierced her heart.
"Ah —" Freya screamed in fright. She sat up on the bed, drenched in cold sweat. She could not help but hold her chest and gasp for breath. She did not know when this nightmare that tormented her every day started to haunt her. She did not know if it was some sort of omen, or if it was because of the pressure from the recent training.
She could feel her heart pounding, but the sound of hurried footsteps in the corridor soon drowned out the sound. The dim light made Freya realize that she had returned to reality. The footsteps outside should be the Knight's messenger. Ever since the war in the south began, the number of messengers had increased by several times. Large and small factions were temporarily attracted by the sudden war, and even forgot that the kingdom itself was on the brink of civil war. Everyone knew that the Dukes in the north would wait until the snow melted before they would cross Ampere Seale to the south. In comparison, Randner's war was more like the 'appetizer before the main meal', as Oberwei jokingly called it.
This appetizer was a great mockery to the Erouine nobles, but the nobles did not seem to mind. They were happily waiting to see how many teeth Count Randner had left. The question was how many teeth Count Randner had left. Of course, it was not as if no one in the Royal Knight Academy believed that Brando could win. At the very least, Freya would be anxiously waiting for news from the frontline every day.
The messenger passed through the long corridor and through the courtyard behind the dormitory, where news of the war was first delivered to Princess Gryphine. The half Fairy Princess coldly read the few lines of words on the parchment in her hand before putting it down. News of Lord Palas's army clashing with the 'rebels' had reached her, but there was no substantial progress.
"In a day or two." Gryphine thought to herself. She said to the messenger, "Make a few copies and give them to the other lords."
"Should I call the other lords over?"
"There's no need for that. There will be a tournament in the Month of Winter and a hunt in the Twilight of Winter. Help me prepare them, I want to see it personally."
The messenger bowed and left.
… …
'Cunning Fox' Makarov could not help but shake his head and chuckle after reading the report in his hand. He wanted to put the report on top of the tall stack of documents on the desk beside him, but after thinking about it, he stopped and walked out of his room with the thin piece of parchment in his hand.
He went straight to the Violet Count's residence with the report in his hand, but was stopped by a servant who told him that his friend had gone to the tournament. Makarov remembered that there was such a matter and hurriedly borrowed a carriage to go to the tournament a few miles away.
The tournament in the Month of Winter had a long history in Erouine and even the whole of Southern Cruz. The events included horsemanship, spearmanship, and swordsmanship. The main purpose of the tournament was to prove the glory of the Knight of each region. The youths were passionate about such events and the citizens could also satisfy their hero complex. In the Royal Knight Academy, such events were even more meaningful. The students of the academy would compete fiercely to prove that they were the best Knight of the year and would compete fiercely for the crown woven from holly leaves.
Preparations for the tournament started in the wee hours of the morning and there was already a sea of people in the morning. However, Makarov was indeed Bali's good friend. It did not take him long to find him in the crowd. The Violet Count, who was also from Lantonilan, was meticulously dressed in a purple coat with silver trimmings that matched his identity. There were three silver leaves on the cuffs of the coat that represented his identity. He did not wear a hat, but he held a goblet in his hand. He stood alone at the highest point of the wooden grandstand that had just been set up, enjoying the cold wind.
Bali saw his good friend walking towards him and raised his glass with a smile: "I know you don't like to drink Toldo wine of five or seven years."
"Actually, I don't like to drink any kind of wine." Makarov replied unhappily.
"I know. Alcohol affects your judgment. I don't make judgments anyway." The Violet Count shrugged.
"Did you receive the news from Tónigel?" Makarov did not want to continue the topic.
"You mean the joke about how many teeth an old dog has?" Bali asked casually.
"I want to ask you how long do you think the 'rebels' can last?"
"What do you think? Don't you think that young man has a chance of winning?" Bali played with his glass: "He has the Silver Elves and the Dragons behind him."
"The Silver Elves are just passing by."
"What about the Dragons?"
"The Dragons wouldn't think that their interference in the affairs of the humans would cause a backlash from the Holy Cathedral. No one wants to start a Holy War, not even the most lawless Grand Dukes in the kingdom."
"That's true. But that young man is not as useless as those Meng family members. With Lord Palas's personality, he might suffer a great loss."
Makarov sneered: "Is that so? I think he's laughably stupid."
"What do you mean?" Bali asked deliberately.
"I thought that he would split up and drag Lord Palas back to Tónigel. The cost of thirty thousand soldiers is an astronomical figure, and with the distrust between the humans and Madara, Lord Palas will definitely lose."
"But that young man has built a line of defense on the spot and is prepared to fight Lord Palas in a fair and square battle, disappointing our Mr. Cunning Fox, right? Indeed, it's troublesome to have one less person to restrain Count Randner, but I heard that he managed Tónigel well. Perhaps he's doing this to ensure the next year's harvest. Have you ever thought that if he survives this battle, he will become a real threat to Count Randner? "The Violet Count raised his eyebrows and asked.
Makarov looked at his good friend.
Bali laughed: "Indeed, I also think that he won't be able to survive, but there might be a miracle. You know, miracles will always appear when people hope for them. Right now, we need this miracle, so I'm praying with all my heart. Maybe Lady Martha will give me a miracle because of me. "
However, it was a little too unreliable to pin one's hopes on something as intangible as a miracle. That was why Makarov knew that his friend was just joking. That was how Makarov always was. However, the two of them who stood at the top of Erouine probably did not expect that their unintentional conversation would be overheard by a young girl who was preparing for the upcoming match.
"Freya, what's wrong?" A female student nudged the girl who was at a loss, and the latter seemed to have just regained her senses: "Eh? Eh? "
"Eh, why do you look like you've lost your soul? Are you thinking of a man?" The girl could not help but giggle.
"… … You, what nonsense are you talking about?" Freya's face turned red. When it came to matters between men and women, the noble girls were much bolder than her. Even though everyone was still talking about it verbally, the girl who came from the countryside of Bucce was still unable to take it.
However, compared to this, she was more concerned about the things she heard earlier. She could not help but ask: "Disha, who were those people talking up there?"
She was asking the girl beside her, who was her roommate. Her name was Disha, and just like what she said, she was a girl from a small noble family. She was chosen to be here because of her talent in magic.
"It seems to be the viewing platform for the nobles. Those people there are all big shots." The girl replied: "Small nobles like us compared to the real big nobles up there is like the difference between a commoner and a noble. If we don't get permission, we can't even talk to them. It's extremely rude. "
She seemed to have just remembered Freya's background and could not help but exclaim: "Ah, I'm sorry, Freya. You know I didn't mean it that way. But then again, once you leave this place, you're at least half a noble. "The girl said in a somewhat unhurried manner.
Freya only smiled at her, but her heart was in a mess. She did not know what the situation was like on Brando's side, but now that the big shots who controlled the fate of the kingdom did not think highly of him, did it mean that the situation over there was very dangerous? After all, Freya was a native of Erouine, and her reverence for authority was not something that could be changed in a short period of time. At this moment, she only wished that she could grow a pair of wings and fly to Brando's side to get through this crisis with that young man, or at the very least, die together with him.
Freya did not know what she was thinking in her heart. She could not help but think of the little things that she knew about Brando. Of course, not all of them were good memories. She could not help but think of the time at the Golden Tree, when she went to look for him and the Roman out of goodwill. He, he, he actually scolded her and the Roman, and often took advantage of her and the Roman.
When she thought of this, Freya's face turned red, but for some reason, there was a little sweetness in her heart. But this little sweetness turned into fear and depression in the blink of an eye, and she did not even hear the voice calling her name from outside.
"It's your turn, Freya!" The girl at the side could not stand it anymore. "What's wrong with you? Are you feeling unwell?"
"No, no …" Freya only just remembered that she was here to participate in the tournament. She panicked a little and picked up the spear, but was immediately rolled her eyes. "This is a swordsmanship tournament …" The girl said in annoyance.
"Ah!" Freya wanted to find a hole to hide in at this moment.
"Forget it, but don't force yourself." The girl sighed and looked at her a little worriedly. "Remember to get a good result. Sigh, if I didn't know you well, I would have thought that you were infatuated with some guy …"
Freya had just walked out of the spectator stand, and when she heard this sentence, she almost fell to the ground. Of course, she would never admit that she was thinking of Brando before. But it was easier said than done to get a good result. Her spear and equestrian skills were at the bottom of the rankings. Although her swordsmanship was slightly better, it was still not good enough among the outstanding youths in Erouine.
… (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to come to qidian.com to vote for me. Your support is my biggest motivation.)
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