White Dew Castle was located in White Dew City.
This might seem like nonsense, but behind it was a bloody history.
The original capital of the Eastern Region was Fragrance City, famous for producing all kinds of precious spices.
Over time, even the whole city was influenced by the fragrance. It wasn't just the smell of spices, but the fragrance of hundreds of years of history.
Bards used to describe it like this —
Even if Fragrance City disappeared from the world, you could still smell its fragrance on the map.
However, no one would have thought that this overflowing praise would actually become a prophecy.
Fragrance City, the capital of spices, was finally completely wiped out from the world by ten sixth-step mages' forbidden spell, [Falling Stars].
All that was left was a huge pit that had now turned into a lake, and a faint fragrance on the map.
Fortunately, the Eastern Region's House of Saint Prospero's castle, White Dew Castle, was built outside Fragrance City, so it was able to escape that catastrophe.
However, some people believed that the reason why the mages chose Fragrance City to be destroyed was because White Dew Castle wasn't in the city.
The mages hoped to use this to show their strength to the nobles of the Empire, so that they would be afraid. They didn't want to destroy a Paladin Family and completely intensify the conflict between the two sides.
In short, since then, the House of Saint Prospero and the Mage Parliament finally reached an agreement not to interfere with each other, and not to invade each other.
Fragrance City was destroyed, but life still went on.
Through this incident, the people of the Eastern Region finally realized one thing — it was safer to follow the nobles!
Therefore, when the Eastern Region rebuilt its capital, the new city decisively surrounded White Dew Castle, and even changed its name to White Dew City.
In fact, the people of the Eastern Region didn't have much military achievements. A Mage City was enough to make them helpless. If it weren't for the fact that the Eastern Region was bordered by the Elves who also hated war, perhaps this area wouldn't have belonged to the Radiant Empire.
Although the military was weak, the Eastern Region's artistic attainments were quite high. Even the Elves who hadn't completely retreated to the depths of the Radiant Moon Forest thought that the Eastern Region's people were the "most noble and elegant" of the human race.
The White Dew Castle, located in the center of the White Dew City, was also the architectural masterpiece that the Eastern Region was most proud of.
The dome, which was inlaid with white jade, was spotlessly white and flawless. Even in the moonless night, it would emit a cold light, as if the palace of the gods had descended to the mortal world.
In the middle of the square in front of the castle, a huge white horse statue was spreading its wings, as if it was going to soar into the sky in the next second.
This was the emblem of the House of Saint Prospero — a pure white pegasus.
As night fell, a bonfire was lit in the square. Hundreds of Eastern Knights dressed in pure white armor surrounded the sculpture. They all looked solemn as they held their swords and bowed their heads in prayer.
Below the statue, a woman in a white priest robe was leading the knights in prayer.
Her voice was dreamy, yet solemn and dignified.
"… The glory of the Lord is everywhere. It will lead the souls of the deceased back to His temple …"
"… Rest in peace, fearless warriors!"
The priestess looked to be in her forties, but she was still charming. The holy radiance that enveloped her gave her a strange charm.
At the end of her prayer, a middle-aged man in a Duke's robe strode into the square.
He was the master of the Eastern Region — the Duke of Saint Prospero.
The Duke of the Eastern Region came to the front of the priestess, put his left hand on his chest, bowed and said:
"May the grace of the Lord of Glory last forever. May the souls of the deceased warriors rest in peace!"
His voice was soft, with a hint of hoarseness, but it was very infectious.
After the Duke of the Eastern Region finished speaking, he raised his head, and his face instantly became stiff.
He pulled out his sword from his waist, raised it over his head, and pointed it at the sky:
"But their will will will be inherited, and their hatred will be remembered by us!"
Clang!
In a series of sounds of swords being pulled out, the knights gathered in the square followed the example of the Duke of Saint Prospero. They raised their swords to the sky and shouted in unison:
"Inherit the will, remember the hatred!"
…
After the ceremony, the knights dispersed one after another.
The Earl Of Avon slowly walked over and saluted the Duke of Saint Prospero and the priestess: "Father, Mother."
It turned out that the priestess was the Duchess.
The Duke of Saint Prospero looked at his second son and said in a cold tone: "What? Are you also here to help the Viscounts of Auston? "
The Earl Of Avon rolled his eyes and smiled: "I'm actually here to help my brother."
"What do you mean? Your brother is still a prisoner of the Angele family. What's the use of you coming to me? "
The Earl Of Avon didn't directly answer the question, but instead said:
"Father, the Viscounts of Auston has been kneeling in White Dew Castle for three days and three nights, and he hasn't eaten a drop of water. If this goes on, even with the body of a fourth-grade knight, I'm afraid he won't be able to hold on."
"Humph! You sympathize with him? Then who will sympathize with the 200,000 soldiers of the Pegasus Legion? "
"No, Father, I don't sympathize with the Viscounts of Auston. It's just that if the deputy Viscounts of Auston kneels to death in White Dew Castle, then, as the commander, what punishment will Marquis Vincent receive? "
The Duke of Saint Prospero raised an eyebrow and snorted: "You're really here to plead for your brother."
The Earl Of Avon chuckled and persuaded: "Yes, Father. If you're not willing to forgive the Viscounts of Auston now, then when you redeem my brother in the future, what reason will you have to forgive him? "
The Duke of Saint Prospero said unhappily: "Why do you think I'll forgive that trash Vincent?"
"Oh? You don't intend to forgive my brother? That's great! " The Earl Of Avon clapped his hands and shouted even more excitedly, "Then when can I inherit my brother's title of Marquis?"
"In your dreams!" The Duke of Saint Prospero glared and said angrily.
But the Earl Of Avon wasn't frightened at all. Instead, he asked with a shocked expression:
"It can't be, Father. If you don't pass the title of Marquis to me, who do you intend to pass it to? It can't be Anna, right? With that silly look of hers, are you really going to hand the Eastern Region to her? "
The Duke of Saint Prospero was so angry that he was panting heavily. His right hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, as if he was going to slash his worrisome son in the next second.
"Alright, stop arguing." The Duchess stood up at the right time to smooth things over: "Evan, you're not allowed to speak to your father in such a tone in the future, and you're not allowed to slander your brother or sister."
"Yes, Mother." The Earl Of Avon shrank his head back. It seemed that he was more in awe of this kind mother who spoke in a calm and unhurried manner.
Then, the Duchess turned to look at her husband: "You too, are you going to draw your sword against your own child? And that Viscounts of Auston, don't let him die in White Dew Castle. That will tarnish your reputation. "
"I know." The Duke of Saint Prospero sighed and strode into the castle.
But after taking a few steps, he saw that the Earl Of Avon didn't follow, so he turned back and ordered:
"Hurry up, I have something to ask you."
"Yes, Father!"
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