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Chapter 226: Perhaps This is Fate
🕑 Added 2025-01-27 11:06:01 +0000 UTCCharlot Mecklenburg’s mastery of the 77 Movements of Heaven’s Wing was personally honed under the guidance of Julian Arsilo.
Although this spear technique held no particularly profound secrets—its force application and movement transitions could be discerned by any mid-level Transcendent skilled in spear combat—on the battlefield, even simple techniques could be decisive.
The cruelty of combat often meant that there was no second chance. Those who perished under the 77 Movements of Heaven’s Wing might have unraveled its intricacies given time, but the battlefield rarely allowed such luxuries.
The 77 Movements of Heaven’s Wing encompassed techniques like the devastating Folded Void. Each of these movements was lethal in its own right, capable of slaying an enemy 77 times over.
When Charlot had initially studied spear combat with Julian, his progress was modest. Yet during his duel with Ban Lamorak, he unleashed a strike of unparalleled precision—his peak performance. Although he couldn’t maintain this level in his second strike and was forced to switch weapons after several exchanges, the duel proved transformative. From that day forward, Charlot’s spearsmanship improved daily.
Now, facing Enzo, the Green Knight who barely met the threshold of high-level Transcendent, Charlot saw only flaws in his opponent’s rigid combat style. Opportunities for exploitation abounded.
His previous strike further bolstered his confidence.
Without paying any heed to the disoriented Enzo, who dared not demand a rematch, Charlot strode boldly into the military camp of the Mostar Knight Order.
Enzo hesitated briefly, suppressing his fury, and in frustration, impaled an injured warhorse with a swift jab of his spear before turning to reenter the camp.
Anastasia paused, choosing not to follow Charlot.
If Charlot engaged in combat within the camp, having to protect her would reduce their chances of breaking through. Without such a burden, their escape would be much easier.
As someone who had led troops in battle and fought on the lands of South Seraph and the Behemoth Principality, Anastasia had proven herself a competent commander. Her considerations stemmed from battlefield pragmatism rather than emotion.
...
Charlot soon encountered Blood Knight Diak and another mid-level Transcendent captain within the camp. When the Blood Knight saw Charlot’s unruffled appearance compared to the disheveled and subdued Green Knight, it was immediately clear who had won their earlier encounter.
Though Blood Knight Diak considered himself far superior to Enzo, even he doubted he could subdue his colleague so decisively in such a short span. The performance of this rising young man from Behemoth could not be underestimated.
“What business brings you here?” Diak asked coldly.
Charlot offered a faint smile. “Clair Bretagne, Military Governor of Behemoth, has requested the three captains to join him for a discussion on deploying our forces.”
Diak sighed lightly. “Under Grand Duke Joseph’s command, we gathered all of Behemoth’s knightly orders, yet suffered a devastating defeat at Interlaken. Of the twelve knight orders we set out with, only three returned. Seventy percent perished or surrendered.”
“Even Grand Duke Joseph himself fell in the minor city of Interlaken, and the South Seraph forces pushed us back to Mostar Castle, where they killed the Duchess.”
“Behemoth cannot withstand more war. We need to recuperate.”
Charlot smiled again. “These concerns can be addressed directly to Governor Clair.”
Reluctantly, Diak nodded. “Very well. Let us meet with Governor Clair.”
The three captains of the Mostar Knight Order, accompanied by over ten knights, followed Charlot to the Ducal Mansion. Once the residence of nobility, it had now been unceremoniously occupied by Clair Bretagne.
Charlot refrained from attending the ensuing meeting—not because he lacked the status to participate, but because he found such lengthy political discussions unbearably dull.
Clair and Ebner Soumet were well-versed in political maneuvering, owing to their noble upbringing. Charlot, by contrast, was a merchant-turned-Transcendent. Despite his experiences, he remained something of a political novice, and involving himself in such matters would only lead to frustration.
Instead of lingering in the mansion, Charlot ascended to the battlements of Mostar Castle, gazing out over the plains. A wave of reflection swept over him.
The last time he had come to Mostar Castle, he had fought desperately outside its walls. Yet the nobles within the city had done nothing—allowing Hughes to breach the defenses and decapitate the Duchess.
That duel had elevated Charlot’s reputation, though it was Hughes who gained the most from the victory. With Zolman’s death, Hughes had solidified his leadership over the South Seraph restorationists, silencing any opposition.
Now, Hughes led the South Seraph restorationists into the Ferranden battlefield. Charlot couldn’t help but wonder how many South Seraph soldiers would ever return home.
At the current pace of the war, the Fars Empire and Byron Empire seemed likely to survive, but as the conflict’s instigators, the Behemoth Principality and South Seraph might not.
Behemoth had lost two successive dukes, along with their duchesses. It was no longer viable as an independent principality and would likely become either a direct imperial county or an autonomous territory. While this might not be a disaster for its people, Behemoth’s native aristocracy would suffer greatly, with many losing their lands, like the unfortunate Baron Feller, whose entire family had been wiped out.
South Seraph faced an even grimmer fate. Should Clair’s campaigns succeed, South Seraph would cease to exist. Its army, currently fighting for Byron in Ferranden, might also be lost. Without land or soldiers, the South Seraph people themselves might disappear.
In all scenarios, war was never the best choice.
...
Anastasia, who had silently accompanied Charlot, suddenly spoke. “Will the Behemoth Principality and South Seraph ever know peace again?”
Charlot chuckled bitterly. “Perhaps. But it might not be a peace everyone can accept.”
Anastasia fell silent for a long while before murmuring, “Could you help me reclaim my mother’s remains? I want to bury her in Silver Dove Castle.”
Charlot nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
He glanced at the young woman beside him, feeling a twinge of emotion. Though Anastasia and Annie shared similarities as noblewomen, their vastly different circumstances had shaped their lives in opposite ways.
Both were graduates of elite universities and Transcendents, admired for their beauty and character. Yet while Annie remained the cherished daughter of a count, leading a blissful life, Anastasia had been forced to fight alone on the battlefield.
Perhaps this was fate.
Just as Charlot, once a mathematics teacher, had found himself transmigrated into this world of Transcendents.
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