The Vastness of Magical Destiny
Chapter 274 - 15: Harvest Season

Chapter 274: Chapter 15: Harvest Season

Dragumo, anxious and restless, sat outside the spacious study of Komer in the Lord’s Mansion, waiting to be received. This was already his fourth visit in the past two months to see the baron, but unfortunately, his lordship’s interest in Leon seemed to grow ever fainter. The time spent conversing with him also grew increasingly brief, with tones of impatience creeping into the dialogue. Last time they spoke, there even seemed to be an insinuation that the collaborative relationship between Leon and the Caucasus might very well be over, which made Dragumo even more uneasy.

Dragumo had gleaned some insider knowledge through the veiled words of his compatriot Maha Gummi. It appeared that the patron behind the Lord, the Central Kingdom of Nicosia, was not quite satisfied with the current situation. Believing that the kingdom had taken on a great deal of pressure to supply Leon with a significant amount of food and resources, yet Leon’s rebel forces seemed unable to pose any further threat to Homer after their victory. Now, facing the massive threat from the beastmen, the already strapped central kingdom seemed intent on cutting off support for Leon—meaning a cessation of food and resource trade, which would be a bolt from the blue for Leon.

But it really wasn’t their own side’s fault. Those damned Homer People had burnt down the floating bridge, severing the only passage over the Nissai River. Even if their side desired to advance into Homer, the vast expanse of the Nissai River was enough to dispel anyone of such foolish thoughts. Without a bridge, the river became an unbridgeable chasm. It was unfortunate that Leon had an abundance of miners and brave warriors, but no craftsmen skilled in bridge-building. Everyone could only sigh in despair when facing the river. On the other side, Bruce Fortress seemed to be constructing a new floating bridge, but a mere moment’s thought revealed that if Homer was brave enough to build it, they must have a way to control it. Otherwise, that would be akin to inviting a wolf into the den. What’s more, judging by their progress, it would take months to complete. So, what should their own side do now?

All hope was placed on the Caucasus. Along the way, the wheat fields beside the road hinted at an impending bountiful harvest in the Caucasus, and although most of this land was newly cultivated and would not yield a high volume of grain, this vision of abundance still sparked a glimmer of hope in Dragumo. If the Lord could persuade the locals to save a bit more and import some food through Mattdam Port, perhaps Leon could endure a few more months.

At that thought, Dragumo couldn’t help but heave a sigh. With resources dwindling, much of what could be sold from the nobility’s confiscated property had already been liquidated, yet the daily consumption of food showed no signs of decreasing. Despite drastic reductions in soldiers and food supply restrictions within his controlled area, they were still running out of food every few days, with some regions even being in worse shape. More and more people began to long for the life of the mines—though hard, at least there was enough black bread to fill their bellies. The emergence of such sentiments alerted Dragumo to an impending crisis. If no measures were taken, the half-beastman slaves who had only just gained their freedom might soon volunteer to have the mortal nobility rule over Leon once again, fearing that leaders like himself would soon become corpses hanging outside the noble manors.

Now, his only hope lay with the Caucasus. If the baron did not lend him a hand, Dragumo did not know what he would do. He truly could not think of any solution to the current predicament, and it was only at this moment that he realized how naïve his past imaginings of a lord’s luxurious life had been. He had no idea how the noble lords solved such issues; perhaps his mind was simply not cut out for contemplating such complex problems.

Finally, the baron’s guests from the study emerged—it looked like two knights. Dragumo’s sharp eyes scanned the knights. These knights, who seemed a notch above everyone else, always carried an air of arrogance, remaining haughty even when stepping out of the baron’s room. The baron’s demeanor, on the other hand, was very composed, with a trace of a smile, and despite the knights not looking very pleased, the baron courteously ushered them to the door.

The Green Knight and Knight Jep stepped out of the opponent’s lavish study with faces full of chagrin. Not surprisingly, it was yet another unpleasant conversation. In Jep’s opinion, they should never have made this trip. Doing things their own way would have sufficed—there was no need for anyone’s approval. A mere baron, the so-called Lord of the Caucasus, had no right to meddle or even dare to interfere with the actions of the knights of the Thunderhorse Knight Group under the mighty Bright Holy Teaching. Yet Green still made a courtesy call to the master of this land because he understood that the Caucasus now was different from ten months ago. Back then, if someone suggested visiting the local lord before acting, he would have laughed it off. However, a lot had changed over ten months, and this once barren land had undergone fundamental transformations, all because it now had this Lord.

Jep was too young and impulsive, many times impulse lead to irreparable mistakes, these were the original words with which the baron had warned him through magic transmission, which felt both like a warning and a threat. Besides trying to stay calm, Green couldn’t help but feel a sense of worry deep inside.

Before leaving, he glanced one last time at the Lord’s Mansion door that seemed somewhat oppressive. The dark doorway, like the gaping maw of a ferocious beast, always gave off an eerie feeling. Green did not understand why this Lord enjoyed such tastes. He could feel the setting of numerous magical traps and magic barriers within the mansion, and it seemed that most were of the ice-cold or fire magic variety, both highly offensive. He thought this did not seem like the kind of person the Lord was, wondering what had prompted him to choose these particular magic settings.

Instructions from Pericles seemed to always be somewhat unpleasant news. Captain Kent seemed to have lost interest in their mission as well, but the Archbishop appeared to be very persistent, showing signs of wanting Jep and himself to stay in the Caucasus for a long time, especially him. Captain Kent detailed in the magic letter the events of this period. The death of Magician Malone seemed to be connected with this Lord, and now even Sanctuary Guardian Miss Galian had disappeared, reportedly imprisoned somewhere on the Continent by a Dark Mage. This was simply shocking; even the Archbishop could not deduce the exact location of the imprisonment, which gave some idea of the Dark Mage’s formidable power. Captain Kent sent him this news—could it mean he suspected this Dark Mage was hiding in the Caucasus?

As for such a thought, it was only a fleeting idea in his mind. Other than the Hidden Ones of the Great Mysterium Sect, Green could not imagine anyone else on the Continent who could be considered a strong Dark Power by Captain Kent, or even the Archbishop. Perhaps there were some, but Green had not heard of them. Even if this baron truly was a Dark Mage, Green did not believe he possessed the strength of a true powerhouse, a title not just anyone could claim. However, the dark aura in the Caucasus did seem to be growing thicker. He had an intuition that aside from the frequent appearances of the Great Mysterium Sect in the region, it might also be related to some friends of the Lord, and even Damarlinsk Castle seemed quite suspicious, although the baron’s residence seemed to have conquered many eyes. Unfortunately, the instructions from Pericles were only to observe and endure, nothing more interesting than that.

As Green stepped out of the door, his thoughts returned to the encounter with the half-beastman in the hall. Even though there were many half-beastmen in the Caucasus, and most of the baron’s Guard consisted of half-beastmen soldiers, Green was certain that the one he encountered was not from the usual half-beastmen of the region. That fellow was filled with a wild and fierce temperament, like a barbarian who had just emerged from deep mountains and wild lands, distinctly different from the common half-beastmen of the Caucasus. Even among Komer’s fearsome half-beastman Guards, none had the presence of that individual, who more resembled a thug, a thug bent on destruction. Where did this individual come from, and what connection might he have with the Lord? An unsettling question slowly rose in Green’s mind.

Dragumo was completely unaware that the wildness and hostility inadvertently expressed in his irritability had caught the attention of others. At that moment, he was striving to control his emotions, trying to behave more civilly and politely before the baron.

"Mr. Dragumo, I apologize for making you wait. Please, have a seat. I’ve had visitors just now, and I’m extremely sorry for the inconvenience," Komer maintained that formulaic smile which could give off a hint of warmth to new visitors, but for a regular like Dragumo, who had grown weary of it, that smile often led to disappointment. This time, however, Dragumo was resolved to obtain a satisfactory solution. He had no thought of opposing the Caucasus Lord because of the Lord’s outstanding performance which had always been intimidating, reminding Dragumo of a divine presence in battle. He felt these mortal mages’ methods were beyond his understanding, and believed seeking the Lord’s support was the proper course.

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