Chapter Twenty: The Mysterious Village

Count Daina descended from the carriage with a slight furrow in his brow, and sure enough, just ahead was a squadron of knights, a black eagle banner hoisted high. Mounting his own warhorse, Count Daina led his knights toward the approaching Monroe Company.

The other party had clearly noticed him and was advancing as well. Soon, Count Daina could make out their leader—not his old rival, Count Monroe, but a golden-haired man clad in gilded armor, strikingly handsome. With a faint smile on his lips, the young man rode a tall white stallion, appearing like a prince from a painting.

“Uncle Daina, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he greeted.

This was Elai Monroe, son of Count Monroe—Daina’s perennial adversary. Renowned as a prodigy among Kexian’s knights, he had attained the rank of third-tier knight before the age of thirty.

Count Daina narrowed his eyes. “Why are you here? Don’t you know that a foreign knight company entering the Dawn Kingdom without permission grants any noble the right to attack unconditionally?”

Monroe’s son had appeared in Princess Olina’s territory more than once, but Daina did not wish for this fellow to meet the princess now—not when that distinguished person was present.

Elai’s charming smile remained undisturbed as he replied, “Don’t be so intimidating, Uncle Daina. I am merely passing by, hoping to pay respects to Her Highness the Princess. Judging by your direction, you too are visiting her. Why not travel together?”

“Hmph!” Count Daina cast a wary glance at Elai’s armor, turned away, and led his company past Monroe’s knights.

Thus, the two knight companies, one ahead and one behind, advanced toward Princess Olina’s little mountain village.

On the road, they saw crowds of refugees, all streaming toward Olina’s lands. These people had once belonged to Daina’s domain, but the calamity of the Green Goblins had left them homeless, forcing them to seek refuge wherever they could—now, to Princess Olina.

Upon seeing the knights, the refugees hurriedly cleared the road, keeping their distance so as not to offend the nobles with their stench.

Elai, swaggering boldly, sidled up to Count Daina and remarked, “Count Daina, Princess Olina truly has a kind heart. She deserves her reputation as the most gifted knight of the Dawn Kingdom in a century.”

“Don’t try to ingratiate yourself. One day I may lead my knights to raze Monroe’s domain and string up that old fox,” Count Daina replied, keeping his eyes fixed ahead, refusing even a glance at Elai.

Yet doubts lingered in his mind—could the princess truly accept so many refugees? That tiny village struggled to sustain basic survival; it seemed impossible for any more to be taken in.

Was it the support of that extraordinary patron?

“Uncle Daina, don’t be so fierce. We may not always be enemies—perhaps one day we’ll share the same nation,” Elai said, undeterred by Daina’s brusque tone, his handsome face still radiant with confidence.

If he had the certainty, Count Daina would have liked nothing more than to sever this fellow’s head right then.

Daina turned and said, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re plotting. Save your little schemes.”

Though Princess Olina’s fortunes had suffered—her royal status reduced to a mere village chief and barely surviving an assassination attempt by the crown prince—her suitors among the royal houses were numerous, including heirs of noble families from many nations. Elai was but one such aspirant.

Why? Because Princess Olina was without backing, without connections—the sole asset she possessed was eligibility to become King of Dawn.

But now, things had changed: she had gained the support of advanced humans, her title alone now outclassing all others.

“Elai, dear Uncle Daina, this is the pursuit of a worthy lady by a knight. You have no right to interfere,” Elai declared.

Count Daina said nothing more, eyes locked forward. As they drew closer to the princess’s modest village, the crowds of refugees thickened. The Green Goblin disaster had likely displaced tens of thousands by now.

Suddenly, Count Daina tugged his reins and halted, his face filled with disbelief as he gazed ahead. The rest followed suit, both companies stopping simultaneously.

“What are those monsters?” someone exclaimed.

At the edge of the horizon, Princess Olina’s little castle remained, but the earthen huts of her people had vanished, replaced by clusters of strange white square houses and fences resembling webs.

Beyond these, thousands of refugees queued in long lines, slowly entering the territory. Flanking them were colossal steel creatures.

They were Leopard 2 wheeled armored vehicles—well-armored, equipped with a small-caliber cannon and a heavy machine gun, famed for their mobility. Unlike tank crews, they required less supply and maintenance, perfectly suited for a new world without tank opposition.

Every knight was tense, their vigilance at its peak.

Count Daina quickly shook off his alarm and regained composure, for he saw black-haired humans in green uniforms beside the steel beasts.

“Milord, the monsters are charging!” a cry rang out.

In the distance, two steel beasts suddenly moved, rushing toward them at remarkable speed. Some knights nearly panicked, almost turning their mounts to flee.

Count Daina mustered his spirit and shouted, “Silence! There’s no need for panic—those are not monsters!”

At once, all knights froze in their motions, though anxiety lingered on their faces.

The two steel beasts stopped fifty meters from the companies, and now the knights could see—a person sat atop each, black-haired and black-eyed, wearing a peculiar helmet.

The Monroe knights stood dumbstruck, Elai included.

How could someone dare to impersonate advanced humans in these times? Did they not fear reprisal from the Empire of Rofel?

A soldier manning the machine gun aimed it at the knights, guarding against any incursion into the military base.

Another soldier picked up a radio: “Reporting: approximately four hundred knights sighted. Should we open fire?”

Count Daina called out, “I am Count Daina of Daina’s domain, responsible for delivering Spirit Awakening Pills and related materials!”

Elai glanced at Daina in surprise—had this man allied himself with Princess Olina? Why?

The black-haired human atop the steel beast replied in awkward common tongue, “Please remain where you are.”

After a dozen minutes, a figure darted from within the territory, swift as the wind, halting between the armored vehicles—a beautiful young woman clad in battered armor.

Sensing the immense energy emanating from her, Count Daina realized the princess’s poison had been cured; the crown prince could no longer hope to assassinate her.

Olina stopped ten paces from Count Daina and asked, “Are all the items prepared?”

Count Daina dismounted, his tone respectful. “Only a portion has been collected: two hundred Spirit Awakening Pills and one thousand sets of related materials.”

“Excellent. Have your men bring them inside. You may enter with only ten knights,” Olina nodded, turning to leave, only to be halted by a voice.

“Princess Olina, Your Highness.”

Olina turned to see a stranger—a golden-haired man whose energy rivaled her own.

Elai leapt gracefully from his mount, right hand across his shoulder, bowing slightly, his handsome face adorned with a warm smile—the very image of a prince from noblewomen’s dreams.

“It has been a long time. You are as beautiful as ever. Seeing your radiant face, I—”

Olina interrupted, “Who are you?”

Elai’s expression froze, embarrassment flooding his mind. For a prodigious knight admired by noble ladies across Kexian, he suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

After several awkward explanations, Olina permitted this knight—whose name she barely recalled—to enter with ten companions.

The knight companies waited several hundred meters from the military base, watched by two armored vehicles.

The carriages resumed motion, slowly rolling into what had once been their impression of a small mountain village.

They found the village gone, replaced by a bizarre scene. White rectangular houses stood in neat rows, and countless civilians in immaculate blue uniforms moved about, while on distant watchtowers, black-haired people wielded strange objects and observed them.

The place imparted an uncanny sensation—a mysterious, unsettling feeling difficult to describe.

Those in blue uniforms were clearly commoners, their faces rosy and smiling, strange numbers pinned to their chests, moving in well-ordered groups.

It was as though some enigmatic force compelled these once-chaotic, dirty peasants to move with the discipline of elite troops.

Military-style collective management was the concept every newcomer to this territory absorbed, day and night:

Obey orders, obey the collective, labor, eat well, sleep.

In the past ten days, waves of refugees had poured in, boosting Olina’s population tenfold—from a thousand to over ten thousand—and the number continued to grow.

The ever-expanding labor force accelerated the construction of the base.