Chapter 361: The Success of Ember
Charlotte waved her Staff carelessly in midair, conjuring burst after burst of dazzling fire. She couldn’t help muttering under her breath:
“Damn it—where’s that damn Baron Jules? Are the nobles of the Northern Regions all this untrustworthy?”
“Guild Leader,” Root said through the comm, voice steady, “our undercover agent has confirmed: Cyril City has already fallen to the Royal Power. That Baron didn’t escape either.”
Charlotte’s face twisted in fury. She let out a string of enraged shouts.
“Fucking useless!
You had your chance, and you blew it!
We told him to flee the moment things got hot—but no, he waited until the city was already under siege! How stubborn can a man be? Just handed the whole thing to those brainless fools in Royal Power!”
“Guild Leader is absolutely right,” Lucky Emperor chimed in instantly, echoing with exaggerated reverence—clearly doing everything he could to curry favor, desperate to pay off his debt. He was nothing short of Charlotte’s sycophantic lapdog.
Lonely Like Snow just covered his face in silent disgust, silently thinking: Even if he’d escaped here, would the outcome really be any different?
It’s just a matter of where the death comes—nothing more.
Charlotte’s expression darkened, teeth clenched.
“We’re leaving. Next fishing spot—time to reel in the catch. This time, we must beat Royal Power to it.”
She pulled out a scroll of parchment. At both ends glowed the Inferno Emblem, and embedded within were rare, expensive gemstones—this was the official royal release of the Anzeta Map Collector’s Edition, dubbed by Royal Realm technicians as “The Sucker’s Special.”
Unfurling it, the map shimmered to life, displaying a glowing, magical topography: mountains, rivers, cities—all rendered in intricate detail, pulsing with faint magical auras.
“Let me see…”
“The next target is Dena City—located in the western part of the Duchy of Carter.”
“This time, no mistakes. That Baron Dalton Rainer? I’ve already convinced him to run. Heard he’s packed his bags and is long gone.”
“Guild Leader—bad news!”
A sudden, crisp voice crackled through the communicator—Flying Witch, unmistakable in tone.
Charlotte’s brow twitched. A cold premonition crept over her.
“Dena City… has fallen to Ember!”
Silence. Deep, heavy silence.
Finally, words scraped out between her clenched teeth:
“…Fucking hell.”
In the Duchy of Carter, within the ruins of Dena City.
A tattered banner flapped weakly above the city tower. Ragged peasant laborers, clad in worn rags, raised steel rifles high into the air, shouting in unison, their voices hoarse with joy.
“Ember! Ember!
We’ve actually succeeded!
From now on, we’re free!
Nobles? They’re not so mighty after all!”
“Can we finally have our own land? Eat our fill?”
Around them, hundreds of soldiers lay dead in pools of blood. Even the Baron had been decapitated.
Ember had uncovered the Baron’s escape attempt. They launched a surprise assault from within the city—completely catching the garrison off guard. With support from rifles supplied by the Kingdom of Ashen, they slaughtered the city’s defenders and executed the brutal oppressor—Baron Dalton Rainer—after years of cruelty.
Starfire stood with arms crossed, watching the ecstatic peasants, their eyes alight with a new, desperate hope. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
But it faded quickly. His gaze drifted beyond the victory, into the uncertain future.
The Northern Union Kingdom was already completely fallen. The King of the Burnt tolerated no threat to Anzeta’s unification. And Ember—despite their triumph—had no capacity to produce their own weapons. Their rifles were all gifts from the Kingdom of Ashen. Their army? A ragtag force of just over two thousand peasant laborers.
Starfire realized the harsh truth: Ember could not govern Dena City.
Not in terms of administration. Not in military strength. They couldn’t even sustain a fragile regime.
“The Kingdom of Ashen only ever saw us as tools—to destabilize the Northern Regions from behind.”
“So… when the entire north is finally under their control… what’s our fate?”
The thought chilled him. His expression hardened.
Nick noticed the shift. He stepped forward.
“Starfire… is there something wrong? We won, didn’t we?”
Starfire spoke in a heavy voice.
“Then… what now?”
“Nick… you know the situation in the Northern Regions, right?”
“Yeah.” Nick paused, eyes downcast. “After the Battle of Okgaral, the Northern Union Kingdom was nothing more than a name. In the vast wasteland of Anzeta, no one can stop the Kingdom of Ashen’s march toward unity.”
His voice faltered. His expression turned grim.
“So you think… the Kingdom of Ashen might turn on us?”
Starfire let out a dry chuckle.
“Not might. It’s inevitable. As long as we hold Dena City—hell, as long as we’re even in Anzeta—we’re bound to face them.”
“And we’re still weak at the roots. We’re dependent on them for every weapon, every round of ammunition.”
“What do we do?” Nick asked after a long silence.
Starfire shook his head, weary.
“Just… take it one step at a time. I don’t know what the future holds.”
Suddenly, a voice rang out from the city tower—Chai Gun’s familiar, raspy tone.
“Commander Comrade—there’s a group at the gates! They claim to be envoys sent by the Kingdom of Ashen!”
“How many?”
“Hmm… probably… a lot.”
Starfire couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. These peasants had barely any formal education—most of them couldn’t even count past a hundred.
“The Kingdom of Ashen shows up this fast?” he murmured, disbelief in his voice.
“I’ll go see for myself. Need to verify their status.”
He climbed to the top of the city tower.
Below, the city wall stood before a disciplined line of goblin infantry—around three hundred strong. Their bayonet spears gleamed coldly in the sunlight, perfectly aligned, their formations sharp and precise.
Starfire’s eyes narrowed.
No doubt about it—this is the Kingdom of Ashen’s army.
Even the elite forces of the Northern Kingdoms would need at least five thousand soldiers to surround and destroy such a unit.
His two thousand peasant conscripts? They’d be slaughtered in minutes.
He gave a quiet order:
“Let them in.”
“Hey, ho!”
The peasants strained, turning the wooden crank. The heavy city gate groaned open, creaking slowly.
But the goblin soldiers didn’t move. They stood firm, forming two neat lines—clearing a wide path through the center.
From behind them, a wagon descended. A woman in a flowing purple gown stepped down gracefully, escorted by a guard detail. Her poise was elegant, her presence commanding.
The sight left the peasants on the tower utterly stunned—none of them had ever seen a noblewoman so refined.
“Ember comrades,” she said, her voice smooth as silk.
“I come as the Kingdom’s representative, to honor your courage and sacrifice.”
“Also… may I introduce myself? I am Dailenna, Lady Marquise of the Kingdom of Ashen.”
A small, warm smile played on her lips—charming, inviting, almost maternal.
On the city tower, Starfire inhaled sharply—his breath came fast and urgent.
Marquise?
What the hell is going on?
(End of Chapter)
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