Chapter 185 184 Discipline that ends before it begins

Chapter 185 184.A Discipline That Was Over Before It Even Began
Marshal Loren had no intention of staying in Misty City for long, having received his appointment and war license from the King, the Marshal had to make haste and head for Dover.

There was the legionary quarters of the old Praetorian Guard.

The Old Guard is called the Old Guard to distinguish it from the Misty City Guard, which was formed after the founding of the Kingdom of the Golden Flower. The Old Guard are veterans who have been defending the King since the days of the Kingdom of Sealand, and they are the most powerful, honorable, and loyal army in the country.

They were the most powerful, honorable and loyal army in the country, and were subject only to the will of the King himself, and were the equivalent of King Louis’s “private army”.

It was here that Marshal Laurent began his military career.

He was the pride of the old Praetorian Guard.

And King Louis’ use of the Old Praetorian Guard also meant that he didn’t want this war to be clamped down on by the Parliament, which also meant that if the Tower of the Ring couldn’t give an answer that would satisfy the King, there was no way that the Spiritist’s allies in politics would have a chance of stopping the war from starting.

This was King Louis’ response to the rebellion!

Firm, decisive, cruel and even to the point of cold-bloodedness, he even dispensed with the part of sending an emissary to inquire, either bow down and submit or accept destruction!

A report obviously could not have had such an obvious effect.

This is enough to prove that in the past for a long time, Louis IX for the Tower of the Ring have existed some kind of hidden dissatisfaction, now just seized the opportunity to vent this pent-up dissatisfaction.

Marshal Loren didn’t want to think about that.

He did not intend to be a politician, but before he rested in his residence in the capital and prepared to leave, he had a “guest”.

“I never like to be disturbed while eating, but you are an exception.”

In the dining room of the Marshal’s residence, Marshal Loren, who was eating his dinner with a large mouthful of food in the manner expected of a military man, said without raising his head to the person who walked into the dining room:

“There is something else I need to question you about, regarding the destruction of the city of Cadman, I thought that it was just a bloody revenge between fellow countrymen, but now I realize that there seems to be some hidden factors that can’t be ignored.

Edward!
You have to tell me, what role did the Wolfsbane Clan play in this matter?
As well as whether that subspace rift that opened underneath Cadman City was your handiwork?

Most importantly, did you use my sire and me?”

“Bang.”

The table knife in the marshal’s hand was placed on the edge of the plate.

He raised his head and looked at old Edward before him, dressed like the most standard old Mistborn gentleman, Loren reached for the handkerchief handed to him by his dwarven attendant and wiped his mouth, a loaded dwarven hand cannon with griffin carvings was placed in the marshal’s hand.

A silver dwarven Highland Priest with ancient tattoo marks on his face and an earth-colored hood covering his body also appeared silently at the entrance to the dining hall.

He made no secret of his strong connection to the earth’s psychic energy, and with every step he took, it seemed as if the entire marshal’s mansion shook for a moment, and the dust sprinkled on the roof told everyone present that it was no illusion.

This was a Gold rank Earth Priest!

On the second floor of the restaurant several dwarven assassins hidden in the shadows also drew their twin guns and aimed downwards, the scene was tense for a while, just short of a ten-sided BGM.

Facing this scene that basically belonged to the scene of certain death once the battle started, the Wolfsbane Clan Grand Duke Edward Spencer Gungroe had no fear, and there was no obvious change in expression on that always gloomy face.

He leaned on the hand of the textured cane, in the midst of the crisis, pulled open the chair across the dining table, and took off his textured black and gray tall hat with the cane together with the dwarven attendant next to him.

The old gentleman-like fellow reached up and removed the monocle that served as an ornament for his left eye, placing it in his hand and pulling out a handkerchief to wipe it off as he whispered:
“I did know ahead of time what Salokdar was doing in the Blood Wyvern Cloisters, but that wasn’t because I set it up, Lord Marshal, and all I can tell you is that I learned of it because a female who was intimate with Salokdar was driven mad by that cold-blooded old bastard.

She threw herself into the arms of Wolfsbane, praying only for a revenge.

So, I graciously granted that poor lady’s wish, and in the process painted another chapter in my clan’s centuries-old feud with the Blood Vulture.

In Plan D, my clan was only responsible for closing the city’s boundaries and providing the Tower of the Ring with psychic energy to locate a small fortune in the meantime, other than that, we didn’t participate in any dangerous other plans.

I have come here in person to make this very point to you, and I hope that you and His Majesty Louis will not misunderstand us Midnight Sons who have offered our loyalty.”

“Heh, you have a good dog’s nose.”

Marshal Loren sneered:
“Did you hear something? I can’t believe you took such initiative to come running to explain all this, but reasoning is never the style of the Wolfsbane Clan, yet you came running to reason with me you’re afraid!”

“I don’t deny that, King Louis’ majesty shrouds this country like the sun, and it’s well known that we vampires who live in the shadowlands fear the sunlight the most. Who could not be afraid of it?”

Old Edward shrugged.

He rubbed his stomach, as if he had come too quickly to have a decent dinner, while the Marshal gestured and a simple but hearty meal was immediately brought out from the kitchen and placed in front of the Wolfsbane Archduke.

He courteously thanked the dwarven cook, then fastened his napkin and picked up his knife and fork to cut into the pork chop on his plate, bringing a small piece of meat slathered in tomato sauce like a bloodstained meat into his mouth, a dwarven favorite that was cooked quite well, even for a vampire.

As the “King of the Underground” in charge of the Misty City and even the entire darkness of the island of Grimm, Old Edward had supreme authority in the gutter where the sun never shone.

Since the “Plague of Wolves” incident in 1040, which was betrayed by the Blood Vulture Clan and resulted in the old religion and the Tower of the Ring joining hands to kill and lose all the territories on the continent, the Wolfsbane Clan, which was in a terrible situation to the extent that it was almost exterminated, migrated to Grimm’s Island under the leadership of Edward.

In order to survive and continue the clan’s legacy, the old Edward completely abandoned the old vampire law.

He and his servants began to massively feed on criminals and thugs that no one else saw fit to feed on, and after 70 years of development and extension, at least four out of every ten crimes on the island are now related to werewolf venom.

They are the masters of the dark night of Grimmie, the most ruthless and brutal strand of the country’s vast shadow, and it is this dark force that old Edward holds in his hands.

It is worth noting that Era 1040 is also a memorable date for Marshal Loren, who was born in the winter moon of that very year.

Anyway, against this background, the Wolfsbane Clan’s ability to scout for news in Grimnay was absolutely top-notch, and His Majesty the King gave the order in the afternoon, which would see Old Edward arriving in a dusty manner by nightfall.

Of course he was afraid that the king’s malice towards the Tower of the Ring would implicate the Wolfsbane Clan as well.

Shadows were always shadows.

Even the largest shadows needed only a ray of sunlight to dissipate.

Old Edward never underestimated the power of mankind, especially since the reforms King Louis pushed through the country made him fear from the bottom of his heart, and he knew that the era of their transcendental ethnicity ruling the continent might be about to usher in the age of great reforms, after the steam technology of the halflings had been mastered by the humans who had learned it.

That was the wheel that rolled forward!
The momentum had been set, and old Edward was not to be the crushed mantis.

“Well, thank you for your hospitality, a sumptuous meal is always soothing.”

The Wolfsbane Archduke finished the pork chop, and while skillfully picking up the bread and dipping it into the soup to bring it to his mouth, he said with a smile to Marshal Loren who was staring at him:
“My servants would be more than willing to act as the vanguard of a counter-insurgency if you require it, as you said before, ancient hatreds must always have an honorable end.”

“It is not that I have need! Rather, it is you who must do your duty for His Majesty.”

Marshal Loren did not believe that the Wolfsbane Clan was pure and innocent in the events of Cadman City, but it was clear that the Tower of the Ring was the most suspected at the moment, and since weakening the Wolfsbane’s power in Grimnir Island was meant to be His Majesty’s strategy, the half-dwarf marshal did not refuse this unsolicited assist.

He said to Old Edward:
“You had better really have no part in this; His Majesty detests traitors, and so do I.”

“Well, in fact, so do I. No man in his right mind would like a traitor, unless he himself was one of them.”

Old Edward smiled as he raised the glass in his hand to the Dwarf Marshal and said:

“Then I wish you all the best in your war, if it is indeed fought.”

“Hmm?”

The comment made the marshal blink, and he asked rhetorically:

“Did you catch wind of something?”

“Geez, old dogs always have better ears so they can live better, and I’ve heard some anecdotes from the distant White Cliffs side I was planning to share with you.”

The Wolfsbane Archduke waved his hand, as old men do when sharing secrets.

While chewing on the bread stained with tomato juice, he said in a mysterious manner:
“As far as I know, just a few days ago, a unit of Spirit Energy Hunters under the Tower of the Ring was mobilized.”

“They are dead.”

Marshal Loren said with an expressionless face:

“Your compatriots, the last remnants of the Blood Vultures killed them in a crisp midnight raid, and a whole 600 heads were piled up on the borders of Transylvania with the declaration of war ‘Blood for Blood’.”

“Hmm?” Old Edward’s expression changed slightly.

In his estimation, the Blood Vulture Clan, which had been heavily injured to the point that it was only one step away from extinction, should not have this ability to do such a thing, but the Wolfsbane Archduke acted in a breezy manner, waving his hand and saying:

“That’s how we vampires do things, we always take revenge when we have the ability to do so, it seems that the Blood Vulture Clan has a true leader again, it’s really regrettable.”

Marshal Loren stared at Old Edward’s feigned calm expression, he was silent for a few seconds and suddenly said:
“I have definite information that the Thorn Archduchess, Lady Shani, and her retinue were also involved in that slaughter.”

“Pah.”

The wine glass in Old Edward’s hand was instantly crushed in its entirety, and his face clouded over.

It didn’t matter to the Blood Vulture remnants that were teetering on the brink of extinction.

But the Thorn Clan, which resided in the Kingdom of Nordtorf and had a lot of power, was also involved, and this was not a good thing, the Wolfsbane Clan and the Thorn Clan had never been friends, which made him immediately smell a malicious intent that was directed at him.

The thousand-year-long racial infighting had long since made ancient people like old Edward feel bored and tiresome, but the worst part was that it was like a never-ending game of curses.

Betrayal, union, betrayal and strangulation, this was the eternal melody between the vampire clans.

It was so treadmill annoying!
Ah, merciful Mother of Midnight, why don’t you send down a bolt of lightning to strike down all those pesky fellow assholes, leaving us, the Wolfsbane Clan, to walk in the darkness of the night proclaiming your majesty?
“Let’s get down to business.”

Old Edward took out his handkerchief and wiped the wine from his fingers.

He no longer laughed but spoke his news with a lack of interest, losing interest in pretending to be a god he said bluntly:
“The mobilization of that unit of psychic hunters didn’t come from the orders of the Tower of the Ring’s top management, it was the private decision of the Master of Shaping Energy, well, perhaps he should be called the ‘Ex-Master of Shaping Energy’, because the very next day after they departed, the Tower of the Ring blocked off White Cliffs territory.

I’ve received word that there seems to be a civil war going on among the Spiritual Energy Masters.

I don’t know the exact status of the battle.

But I’m guessing that His Majesty King Louis will soon receive an apology that will be enough to gladden his heart, and the Shaping Tower faction, one of the three towers of the Tower of the Ring, will presumably be welcoming a new Shaping Master, as well as a cleansing cold enough to make even vampires such as ourselves feel fear.

Those psionics seem united.

But their internal strife is more naked, tearing each other apart like a pack of beasts wielding power, always accompanied by mass executions, always more vicious when they kill their own than when they slaughter others, which they call the ‘necessary price’ for the pursuit of truth .
So who’s really the bad guy?”

At this point, Archduke Wolfsbane stood up.

The fact that he had delivered good news to the angry Marshal, only to be rewarded with bad news in return, put old Edward in no mood to stay here and continue his riddles with Marshal Loren.

The Wolfsbane Archduke courteously excused himself:

“In short, I came to advise you not to overwork the warriors of the old Praetorian Guard, perhaps you will soon return to the battlefield of your heart, after all, the Black Plague is such a big thing, but also need to be in charge of the resistance of such an outstanding commander like you.

I will send the best of my family to participate in the Black Plague, and the Grey Claw faction, ambitious and eager to show their power, has already set out as a vanguard to Transylvania.

I hope you will use them properly.

Of course!

Being cannon fodder is no problem.

I am not fond of the overly ambitious heir, he worships strength but despises wisdom, not a shred of the decency of a midnight noble!
Alas, what a fool, like myself in my youth, I thought he was like me at first that’s why I nurtured him, but the problem is, he’s too much like me”

With that said, old Edward took his tall hat and cane, put on his monocle again and bid farewell to Marshal Loren, left the residence and got into a black carriage and disappeared into the night.

Marshal Loren got the news about the Tower of the Ring, he didn’t think it was Old Edward’s fraud, that cunning Wolfsbane Archduke knew when to tell the truth, that is to say, the disciplinary action against the Tower of the Ring was over before it even started.

“Furo.”

Marshal Loren lit his pipe and exhaled a smoke ring.

In the light of the gloomy evening sky outside the window, he thought:
“It’s for the best, the kingdom needs unity, and the head of a Master Shaper is enough to soothe the anger of a Dwarf after being used.”

With that thought, the Marshal summoned the Silver Dwarf Priest in his service, and at his bidding, an ultra-long-range psionic communication was sent into the Pathfinder Fortress ten minutes later, and it was the still-loyal Major Fraser who answered it.

“You make the arrangements.”

The Marshal said to the psionic projection in front of him, maintained by two Earth Priests:

“I need to speak with the Lords of Transylvania, tomorrow.”

“As you wish, General oh no, His Excellency the Marshal!”

Major Fraser gave a military salute.

As for why he, who was thousands of miles away, could know the news of Marshal Loren’s promotion so quickly, it wasn’t really worth being surprised.

The Carpe family was one of the three great heirloom nobles of the Silan Kingdom, and had a great deal of authority in the Kingdom of the Golden Sparrow, and as the young heir of a staunch royal party family, Major Fraser’s present-day Majesty King Louis had even hugged Major Fraser when he was born.

“After this is done, you’ll go back on vacation.”

Marshal Loren exhaled a smoke ring and said to the young man in front of him that he valued so much:
“There’s less than six months until the Black Plague arrives, so I’ll give you a two-month vacation and report back to the Pioneer Fortress after you’ve completed your life’s events, Major Fraser, and I’m guessing your family has already paved the way for you.

So, if you make it through the Black Plague alive with a few more credits to your name, I may just have to address you as Mr. ‘Brigadier General’. Would you like me to prepare a wedding gift to send to the Capay family?”

“Make sure you don’t make jokes like that, Lord Marshal.”

Major Fraser shook his head:

“The country is in a time of crisis, the Black Plague will threaten the entire continent, and in front of such a great event, my personal honor and disgrace and life events are no longer important.

I have sent letters to my father.

As long as the Black Plague is not calmed, I will not be a family member, this is the oath I made for the country and His Majesty, and I believe that my father will also understand me.”

“But a young man must always taste love .”

Marshal Loren still want to persuade, yonder Major Fraser is a bit anxious, he seems to not want to talk about this issue then a little mouth to answer:

“I idolize you, Field Marshal, if you are not in a hurry for the big things in life, why should I be in a hurry?”

“Hm?”

The half-dwarf nearly choked on his smoke.

He glared hard at Major Fraser and chortled:

“Go do your work! Don’t you pry into the adults’ business!”

With that said, the long-distance psionic communication was cut off, and a few minutes later, the same old Silver Dwarf priest who had been archly guarding Marshal Loren moments before pulled on his hood and whispered to Marshal Loren:
“You must return to the Silver Keep, young Loren, the Supreme Lord and your cousin Liv’rosa are waiting for you.”

“In dwarven lifespans, my cousin is still underage! Gaia is up there.”

Marshal Loren covered his eyes in pain.

He retorted feebly, yet the old priest rolled his eyes and also fished out a Dwarven pipe and held it to his mouth, lengthening his voice and saying:
“But your cousin is already an old girl by human standards, you can’t keep her waiting too long! Not to mention the fact that you have a crush on each other, it’s not like you’re forcing it.”

“Don’t you guys rush it, okay? Consider me begging you guys.”

The marshal rubbed his aching brow as he sighed:

“I have a duty to my country and my monarch, so at least wait until after the Black Plague is over.”

“But that’s what you said before the Ten Years’ War began!”

“This time for sure! This time for sure, I promise!”

(End of chapter)