Episode 218
“Three to seven, huh.”
In the end, more people than Dale initially expected had decided to support Charlotte Lancaster. Securing thirty percent of the votes was no small feat.
The heads of families who remained in the assembly hall to support Charlotte Lancaster and cling to Saxony’s lifeline.
Yet, they were the kind who would betray Dale and switch sides if the tide turned against them. Still, even bats have their uses.
Dale had taken over the Lancaster Duke’s castle, while Ray Lancaster gathered his forces at the viscounty where John Lancaster, the former duke’s brother, resided.
From there, they declared Charlotte Lancaster a usurper and began appealing for legitimacy across the duchy.
This was a battle of information before any physical confrontation. In this regard, Dale had a particularly reliable ally.
The masters of deceit and illusion, the Blue Tower.
“Thank you for making the difficult journey, Mistress Titania.”
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Shadow Lord.”
Titania, the true power behind the York Marquessate and one of the sorceresses of the Blue Tower, stood there with the daughters of York, who carried the blood of succubi.
“You must already have a rough understanding of the situation.”
“Hehe, I always listen to the whispers carried by the wind.”
Mistress Titania chuckled, and Dale nodded silently.
“This isn’t a war that can be won just by defeating the enemy commander. What’s crucial is ensuring my wife, Charlotte, can rightfully claim the title of Duke of Lancaster and win the hearts of the people.”
Dale spoke.
“And to win those hearts, I need the power of your Blue Tower.”
“The hearts of the people, you say.”
Titania repeated with a hint of amusement.
“What makes you think our Blue Tower has the power to sway the heavens?”
“The hearts of the people are easily swayed by lies, deceit, and whispers in the dark. They waver like reeds at the slightest falsehood. Isn’t that precisely what your Blue Tower excels at?”
“Oh, how astute you are.”
Mistress Titania laughed again, clearly entertained.
“Rest assured, Shadow Lord. We are already spreading the whispers of the blue.”
“Did you anticipate my request from the start?”
“Understanding the will of one’s lord is a loyal servant’s duty.”
“I’m not fond of having my intentions read too deeply, even if it stems from loyalty.”
The Shadow Lord replied coldly. There was no doubt that the Blue Tower was loyal to Dale, but they never revealed their true intentions easily.
In a way, they were the continent’s premier spy organization, and their loyalty was as hard to trust as it was to find.
“My apologies, Shadow Lord. But please, do not doubt the loyalty of the blue towards the shadows.”
Titania bowed respectfully once more.
At the same time, blue butterflies took flight, their wings fluttering in unison.
Charlotte Lancaster had claimed the Lancaster Duchy, asserting her legitimacy as the heir, with the ‘Black Prince’ of Saxony backing her.
Rumors spread quietly about the death of Michael Lancaster and the Black Prince’s support for the York side during the War of the Roses, casting a shadow over Dale’s presence in the castle.
That, too, was the will of the people.
The castle’s retainers and servants, especially the Rose Cross Knights, who were the pride of the Lancaster family, were affected.
Knights who had witnessed the Black Prince on the battlefield and saw their lord Michael fall had already pledged new oaths of fealty to Ray and Linne Lancaster at John Lancaster’s estate.
Yet, some Rose Cross Knights chose to stay, accepting the will of the Duke of Lancaster.
They remembered Charlotte as both a priestess and a daughter, mingling freely with the knights and proving herself as a worthy successor to the Duke’s sword. When the Duke declared Charlotte his heir, they stayed to honor that pledge.
They willingly accepted Charlotte Lancaster as their new lord.
At the top of Lancaster Castle, Charlotte and Dale spread out a map of the entire territory. They summoned all the knights, retainers, and noble families who remained loyal to Charlotte.
The masters of stealth, the Grave Walkers, were also there, moving solely for Dale. Among them were the master of silent blades, Baro, the shadowy Aurelia, and the mountain assassins, all serving the Shadow Lord. Their identities were hidden under hoods, making them unrecognizable.
“The surest way to secure Lancaster is to subdue John Lancaster and force his surrender.”
Dale of Saxony spoke.
“But behind him stands the Red Tower, and as proof, the Red Heir ‘Ray Uris’ uses the Lancaster name there.”
“The Red Tower…”
“The Empire wants to reclaim the Lancaster Duchy. That’s why the Red Tower, which enforces the Empire’s will, is involved.”
Dale continued.
“Even if we subdue John Lancaster, it would only be cutting off a puppet. To secure a decisive victory, we must ultimately defeat the Red Executor… ‘Ray Lancaster.’”
“Then why not march against Ray Lancaster immediately?”
Master Baro asked. Dale replied as if he had expected the question.
“Ray Lancaster won’t move easily. He knows that winning this war doesn’t necessarily require brute force. More than anything, he fears facing me in battle.”
Dale said.
He recalled the determined look on Ray Lancaster’s face when he stood before the Shadow Lord.
“We can’t charge straight at the enemy’s heart. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t wield our swords at all.”
“Then what do you propose?”
“I told you, I intend to win over the hearts of all Lancaster who doubt my wife, Charlotte Lancaster’s legitimacy.”
“Ah, that sounds like an easy task.”
Understanding the plan, Master Baro chuckled.
“Oh, I witnessed it myself! The ruthless Blood Duke mercilessly assassinated Prince Richard! And the Duke of Lancaster, grieving his son’s death, took up his sword!”
The man raised his voice as if singing, and as he did, people gathered in small groups to listen to his tale.
“The greatest clash of sword and magic on the continent, a battle that shook the heavens and the earth for a week!”
The man was a storyteller, a so-called gossipmonger. Yet, he had never set foot in Saxony and knew nothing of what transpired there.
Despite this, he spoke as if he had witnessed it all, his voice vivid and theatrical.
“But alas, the Blood Duke’s treacherous magic struck the Duke of Lancaster… ahem.”
A storyteller’s job is to sell stories. Each time he paused at the climax, people tossed coins into his basket.
“Oh, a battle of equals, turned by a single treacherous ambush!”
Listeners gasped and wept at his words.
“And now, the heartless Blood Duke’s son seeks to devour all of Lancaster! But the Duke’s poor foster daughter, Charlotte Lancaster, has not given up!”
It was a scene common to storytellers everywhere. The Blue Tower understood the power of stories better than anyone.
When the storyteller finished recounting the Duke of Lancaster’s battle, applause thundered around him, and his ‘consciousness’ returned.
Startled, the storyteller looked around, his basket brimming with coins. His confusion was short-lived as he realized it was time to move on to his next mission as a blue agent.
To build the people’s disdain for the Red Tower and the Blood Duke, and their sympathy for Charlotte Lancaster.
Turning the hearts of the common people was the work of the blue stories, but the hearts of the nobility were not so easily swayed by tales alone.
Night had fallen, and in the bedroom of a noble supporting John and Ray Lancaster.
“Well, you’d better think carefully before you answer.”
Master of silent blades, Baro, spoke. The blade in his hand gleamed menacingly, and the noble’s face turned ashen.
Winning over a noble’s heart isn’t all that difficult. A candid conversation in the dead of night, within the confines of a bedroom, is often enough.
“I-I pledge my unwavering support for Charlotte Lancaster!”
“Indeed, I shall remember your loyalty to the Lancaster heir well.”
The figure’s identity was obscured by a hood, but even the most vigilant guards of the mansion couldn’t prevent his intrusion. If he so desired, turning the estate into a bloodbath would be a trivial task.
“Remember, your life is not yours alone,” Master Barrow whispered, casting a glance at the noble’s side. There, trembling with fear, was the noble’s wife, and in another room, their precious children lay asleep.
Thus, the noble’s choices were severely limited.
The will of the people is like a reed, swaying with the wind. And just as the common folk’s sentiments can be influenced, so too can the hearts of nobles be swayed by those working in the shadows, including the allies of John and Ray Lancaster.
When their assassin visited the bedroom of a noble who supported Charlotte, seeking a candid conversation…
“Well, well, what brings you here so cautiously at this late hour?”
The unexpected visitor was not met by a slumbering noble.
Instead, it was the Grave Walkers, the loyal operatives of the Shadow Lord, masters of stealth and subterfuge.
The invisible war had already begun, and the Shadow Lord had smoothly claimed the first stronghold in this battle.