Chapter 363 Triumphal Ceremony
“News! The Kingdom’s forces, led by Marshal Dolo, have utterly crushed the Allied Forces!”
“King Kai Xiusu defeated ‘Silver Wings’ Oszedro, securing victory in Radiance!”
“The Kingdom’s armies advance on multiple fronts—Northern Regions will soon fall entirely!”
“The Supreme Ruler of the North, Duke Leo, conspired with demons, then vanished without a trace—was it Twisted Humanity or Moral Collapse?”
The cries of newsboys and street vendors echoed through the streets of Northwind Keep.
The news of the Kingdom’s victory had already spread far and wide, yet the people weren’t surprised—victory, in their eyes, had been inevitable. What mattered more was seizing the spoils of war.
Factories across the realm ramped up production at full speed, preparing for the vast new markets awaiting expansion, and bracing for the inevitable surge in wartime consumption.
The flourishing Military Supply Industry fueled growth in related sectors—steel, manufacturing, mechanics—spawning countless jobs and driving economic boom.
Even shrewd merchants with a keen eye were already packing their bags, heading toward the newly captured cities in Northern Regions, eager to stake claims and establish factories before anyone else.
War-related goods flew off the shelves—trading in them made some merchants rich beyond imagination, while others had already profited immensely from war bonds purchased before the fighting even began.
This was precisely what made the Kingdom of Ashen so terrifying in the eyes of the Northern nobles: War didn’t weaken it—on the contrary, it brought temporary prosperity and even eased long-standing social tensions.
In stark contrast to the war-torn, famine-ravaged Northern Regions, the Kingdom seemed like an endless, tireless War Machine.
And now, at the grand city gate of Northwind Keep, a solemn Triumphal Ceremony was underway.
“They’re back!”
“Those are the Kingdom’s troops!”
“So majestic… I wish I could join the army too.”
“Is that Marshal Dolo? The legendary Envy-warrior—hey, why are you covering my mouth?”
“Are you mad? Don’t utter that name! The Military Bureau will come after you!”
Human, Great Goblin, and Tiefling infantry marched in tightly aligned Phalanxes, their steps in perfect rhythm with the steady beat of drums, steadily approaching the heart of Northwind Keep.
Behind them, Marshal Dolo sat atop a massive, powerful Armored Ground Drake.
Suddenly, the crowd erupted into an even louder roar—emerging amidst a retinue of mages and guards, the Ogre Magus Lanpu floated into view, smiling broadly as he waved to the masses.
“Look! It’s Lord Lanpu! He’s come in person to welcome them!”
“That’s the Kingdom’s Chief Minister!”
“What an honor—two Dukes in attendance!”
Amidst the impassioned Triumphal March of the Semi-Goatfolk, Dolo and Lanpu reunited under the gaze of tens of thousands.
For reasons unknown, Lanpu felt a strange pang of melancholy.
When they’d first met, he’d been just a slightly smarter Ogre—while Dolo, a down-on-his-luck Earth Giant commander with only goblins at his back, had been beneath him in every way.
Now, they stood at the pinnacle of power across the entire Anzeta Great Wasteland, capable of deciding the fates of countless lives.
Yet, Lanpu still held the upper hand.
As the first to follow the Red Dragon’s Favored, he would always be the victor.
He thought this, his expression calm and courteous, as he offered a polite congratulation.
“Congratulations, Marshal Dolo, on your triumphant return. This is truly a blessing for the entire Kingdom.”
“Nay, Lord Lanpu—your presence here in person is the true honor.”
Dolo leapt down from his Earth-Crawling Dragonbeast, strode forward with purpose, and clasped Lanpu’s massive hand in both of his own. His grotesque face split into a grim, toothy grin.
Lanpu gave a slight nod. In his eyes, a fleeting spark of amusement flickered.
The Ogre knew full well that Dolo harbored ambitions to replace him. Their Familiar Clans had long clashed—open rivalry, secret maneuvering, constant tension.
But now, Dolo had buried those thoughts deep within.
Years of power had tempered him. The Great Goblin Marshal was no longer the impulsive, fiery warrior he’d been a decade ago.
He understood that showing jealousy or barbarity in front of the Nationals was unwise—especially if it reached the ears of King Kai Xiusu.
So despite their mutual suspicions, they played their roles perfectly—smiling, respectful, seemingly united in harmony.
“Marshal Dolo,” Lanpu said, “your battlefield merits have already spread throughout the Kingdom. The King holds you in high regard.”
“Next, the Kingdom will need your strength to stabilize the situation in Northern Regions.”
Dolo nodded solemnly, his expression grave.
“I will do everything in my power to serve the Kingdom faithfully.”
With the return of the army, the celebration in Northwind Keep reached its peak.
“To the Kingdom of Ashen!”
“Victory! Victory!”
“Triumph!”
People flooded the streets, shouting cheers, leaping with joy, celebrating the hard-won victory. Dolo and Lanpu became the center of attention—discussed, admired, and whispered about by all.
Yet beneath the jubilation, hidden currents stirred.
Months had passed since Oszedro’s escape and the rout of the Allied Forces—news of the Kingdom’s rise had now spread across the Feiansuo Continent.
This once-remote kingdom had finally caught the attention of powers across the land.
Dozens of eyes—curious, calculating, covetous—turned toward it, one after another.
And in the midst of the roaring crowd, a small, thin figure struggled through the throng, her arms raised high.
“Lord Lanpu! I want to see the King!”
Misha shouted with all her might.
But her voice was drowned out by the thunderous cheers.
Her tiny frame vanished into the sea of ecstatic bodies.
Lanpu was the Kingdom’s Chief Minister—thousands sought his favor every day.
In such a moment, no one would notice a child of eight or nine, let alone listen to her.
“Sir!”
“Lord Lanpu! Look at me, Lord Lanpu!”
Amidst the press of people, Lanpu floated upward, staff in hand, moving slowly through the air. He offered what he believed was a kind smile, waving to the crowd.
The tall, strong Nationals used their physical advantage to push forward, crowding the front.
Misha was quickly shoved to the back, lost in the crush.
The people before her were like a wall—impassable, blocking her view, trapping her in the rear.
“Please… don’t block me.”
“I need to see Lord Lanpu!”
Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill.
This was her only chance—her rare opportunity to meet Lord Lanpu as a civilian.
If she missed it… her revenge would be impossible.
“What should I do?”
Misha lowered her gaze, biting her lip, her fists clenched so tightly they trembled.
Then, with sudden resolve, she lifted her head.
Tears shimmered in her reddened eyes, but her expression hardened—unyielding, determined.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
