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Rise of the Fallen Kingdom’s Third Prince Chapter 291: The Way (4)

Chapter 291: The Way (4)

The⁠⁠ Duchy of Klein​⁠‍ also sent troops.⁠⁠

With​‍‌ his forces now‍​ further reinforced, Yuri​‍ marched toward Liberta.‍

The⁠⁠ continent sensed it.⁠‍‌

This​⁠⁠ march might be‌​ the final journey⁠⁠ of the prince‍ of Briol, whose‍‍‍ heroic record had⁠⁠‌ been etched into‍‍ history.

If⁠ he won, his⁠ name would be‌⁠ remembered for generations;⁠​‍ if he lost,​​⁠ he would be⁠ just another among⁠⁠ the countless righteous‌‍ who perished at‍‌ the hands of⁠​​ the Empire.

Some‍‌ mocked it, saying‍ it was a meaningless act.

Others,‌⁠ inspired by his⁠​‌ silent march, offered​‌ cheers or joined‍⁠⁠ the long column​⁠‌ of those following‌ him.

Finally,‍ Yuri and the​⁠⁠ anti-imperial alliance he‍​⁠ had formed arrived‍ at the capital‌⁠ of Liberta.

The‍ king of Liberta‍‌ came out in‌ person and, from‍​ a distance, knelt‌‌ on one knee‍⁠​ to show respect.⁠

But‍⁠​ Yuri had no​ intention of stopping​​ the march just​ because the king⁠ had come out.⁠‌⁠

He​​ merely returned the‍ greeting with a slight nod of‍‌⁠ his head and‍​ continued on, advancing⁠​ silently like a pilgrim on the​‍‍ road toward the⁠ Empire.

Outside⁠‌​ the city, Liberta’s‌ army waited to‍‌ join Yuri.

In⁠⁠ the front row,‍ Yuri recognized a familiar face and‌ let out a laugh.

“Wow,‌‍​ Sven Gain, my​‌ friend!”

“We‌ meet again, my‌‍​ esteemed lord.”

“You‌‍‌ look serious.”

“The‌⁠ occasion calls for⁠ it.”

Hearing⁠​ the prince of‍‍ Briol call Sven‍⁠‍ “friend,” people murmured⁠ in surprise.

Lately,‌‍ Sven had gained⁠‍ notoriety, but it‌ was not known​​‍ that he was‌‍ close to Yuri⁠ Briol.

Of‍‌‌ course, only they‌​⁠ knew that their​‍ relationship had begun‍‌ with a fight.‍⁠

Yuri⁠⁠‍ smiled at the​ memory.

“Do‍‍ you remember the‌​ first time we‌‍ met?”

“How⁠‌ could I forget.”​

“And​ now we’re going‌ to fight together.‍ Life is unpredictable,‌⁠⁠ don’t you think?”‍‍​

“Without‍‌‍ a doubt.”

“I​⁠​ kept my promise⁠ from back then—I​‍ didn’t tell anyone.”‌

Even‍​​ Sven, who maintained‍​ a serious expression,⁠ ended up smiling.⁠​

“I‌‍ appreciate it very‍‍‍ much.”

“Right?”​‍

Before‌​ meeting Yuri, Sven⁠ had been an⁠⁠‌ arrogant man who​​‌ abused his position,‌⁠‍ criticized other countries​ behind their backs,​‍ and rarely acknowledged⁠​‌ anyone better than​‌ himself.

But‍‍ that had changed.‌

He‌​‍ had changed.

On​ horseback, Yuri leaned​⁠⁠ toward Sven and‍⁠ extended his hand.⁠

“Let’s‌ do well this⁠ time too.”

“Yes.”‍

After‍⁠ a brief handshake,​⁠ Yuri smiled and⁠‍ returned to the‍‌ head of the⁠ march.

Wolf‌⁠ Gain, watching the‍⁠ scene with satisfaction,​​‍ spoke.

“Sir‌‍ Eto.”

“Yes.”⁠‍

“Aren’t⁠⁠ you pleased?”

“I‌ am.”

“Someday⁠ my son will​‍ take your place.”‍⁠‍

“First⁠​ I must take​‍⁠ yours, Sir Wolf.”⁠​

“You’ve‍​ already surpassed me.”‌

“Skill​‍‌ with the sword​ is not the⁠ only virtue of‌‍ a knight. Compared‌ to you, I still fall short.”⁠‌

“You‍​‌ think so?”

“Yes.‌ Someday I’ll be‍⁠‍ a knight like‌‌​ you.”

“Then‌⁠⁠ become a father.”⁠​‌

“Father…?”‍

“That⁠‌ will make you‍‌ a better knight—no,‌‍‍ a better human‌ being.”

A horn sounded, and‌‍ Liberta’s army joined‍‌​ Yuri’s march.

Wolf​ shouted.

“Liberta​‌ shares Briol’s fate!​ We will fight​‌ to the end!​⁠‍ March!”

The⁠ anti-imperial alliance born‌ in Briol grew⁠⁠​ like a snowball.‌

***⁠‍

Yuri‍⁠​ Briol, bearer of​​ the Sword of​ the Tyrant King,​​⁠ crossed the Confederation⁠​⁠ of Small Kingdoms‍ and reached Brusen.⁠

The​‌‌ reaction in Brusen‌ was much more‌‌ enthusiastic than in‌​​ other countries, which⁠​ merely bowed—there they​⁠ waved flags and​‍ cheered with shouts.​ The march became‌‌‌ noisy.

All​‍​ the acquaintances he‍‌ had made along​ his journey had⁠⁠​ gathered.

The​​ king of Brusen‌‍ did not remain‌ still—he ran directly‍ to Yuri and⁠‍ handed him something.​‍​

“Here,​⁠ drink before you⁠ go.”

It‌⁠ was wine.

“Don’t‍⁠ tell me…”

“Sabonne​⁠‍ Mucara. From the‍⁠ best year.”

It‍‍ was a typical⁠​​ product of the​ Alas region, located‍‍‌ between the Holy​‍ Kingdom and Brusen.‍‍‌

Not‍⁠ long ago, that​​⁠ had sparked a war between the‍⁠ two, which was​ resolved thanks to‌‌ Yuri’s intervention.

Yuri⁠ smiled.

“What‍ an honor to‌ gift me something‍ like this.”

“For‍⁠ you, it doesn’t⁠ hurt to give​⁠ it.”

The⁠‍ king of Brusen​‌⁠ smiled broadly.

“Drink‍‍ now. Ah, no‍‌ need to dismount.”⁠

“Understood.”‌‍

On⁠ horseback, Yuri, and‍​ standing beside him,⁠⁠‌ the king of‌ Brusen, filled their‍‌ cups with red‌‍ wine.

“A‌​ toast to your⁠ victory.”

“I‌​‌ think you just⁠⁠ wanted to drink‍‍⁠ with me, didn’t‍‍ you?”

“Quiet,‍‍ they’re listening.”

Both‌ laughed and drank.‌

“Impressive…”⁠​

“Right?”‍⁠

“I⁠‍ have no words.”‌‍​

“Me‍‍‍ neither. That’s why​‌ I’m not going⁠‌ to give you‍‌ a pep talk—it’s‍‍ hard to put‍‌‌ into words. In​‍​ this wine is​​ my support, so‌ please, save the‍ continent.”

“Understood.”‍

“By‌‍​ the way…” said⁠ the king.

“I‌​ haven’t opened the‍ best wine. I’m‍⁠ saving it for​‍‌ your victory.”

“And‌‌​ if I lose?”‌⁠⁠

“I’ll⁠​‌ drink it in⁠​​ your honor. If⁠ you lose, I won’t live much​ longer either.”

“Hahaha…”​⁠‍

Yuri‌‌​ smiled and extended⁠​ his cup.

“One‌ more, please.”

“Alright.”‌⁠

The‌⁠ king poured again.​ After several rounds,‌‌‌ Yuri this time​​ held the wine⁠‌ in his mouth⁠⁠ for a few​‌ seconds before swallowing.‌

“I‌‌‍ definitely have to‍ win.”

“Right?”‍

“Yes.”‌‌

Returning​⁠⁠ the empty cup,​​ Yuri said.

“I’ll​‌ be back.”

“I’ll‌​ be waiting.”

The‍⁠‌ king hugged the‍‍‍ bottle and stepped‌‌‍ back.

Yuri’s‍ column resumed the​​‍ march, followed by‌‌‍ soldiers from all​‌ the countries they‌ had crossed:

those‌‌‍ from Briol, the‌​​ Duchy of Klein,‌ Liberta, the Confederation‌ of Small Kingdoms,​ troops from small‌‌‌ independent domains, swordsmen​⁠‌ who had once​ remained hidden—all had‌​‌ joined.

Now‍ the army of​‌​ Brusen was added​​ as well.

The​​⁠ king of Brusen‍⁠ raised his hand​ and shouted.

“My​​⁠ loyal knight, Jose​‍ Aratur!”

“Yes!”⁠

Jose,⁠ who was behind,​ answered firmly.

The​​‍ king shouted.

“Aid‌‌⁠ the prince of​‍ Briol and save‍‌​ the continent!”

“Yes,‌ Your Majesty!”

His​‌ voice resounded throughout‌ the place.

Next,‍ a horn drew​ out its note‍ and the troops‌ of Brusen began​‍⁠ to merge into​⁠ the column.

Jonathan,‌⁠ watching from the⁠‌ rear on horseback,​‍ commented.

“I⁠ recognize almost all⁠ of them—aren’t they‌⁠‌ from the Alliance?”⁠​

“That’s​‌⁠ right.”

“Funny‌‌⁠ how so many⁠​ connections end up‍‌⁠ united like this.”⁠⁠⁠

“They’re​‍‍ not many connections,”‍ replied Froin with​⁠‍ a smile. “It’s⁠‌‍ just one—Yuri Briol.​‌‌ He’s the one‌‍ who brought them⁠‍​ all together.”

“You⁠‍ think so?”

“Think‌‌ about it. It’s‍ as if all​⁠‍ of this had‍ been prepared for​​ this day.”

Froin​⁠ stroked his horse’s‍ mane and added.‍​

“It‌‍​ all started in‌‌ the Alliance—the orcs,⁠⁠‍ the black magic—the⁠‌ war to protect‌ the continent had‍⁠⁠ already begun back⁠‍⁠ then.”

“Maybe‌​‌ so.”

They‌‌​ both nodded.

Those‍ who had forged​ bonds in the‌‌‌ Alliance of Nations‌​⁠ were now joining‍⁠‍ together in a battle for the‍‌ fate of the‌ continent.

The‍ troops of Brusen​⁠ fully merged into​ the formation and⁠ began to advance.​​‌ Jonathan and Froin​‌⁠ also spurred their‍‌‍ horses.

On‍‍ both sides, people‍ wished them good‍‌ fortune.

Jonathan‌⁠​ smiled.

“Has‍ there ever been⁠‌‌ another war like‌​ this?”

“Pardon?”⁠‍

“A⁠‍ war truly worth‍⁠ fighting. Not for‌ someone’s ambition, nor‌⁠ for some stupid⁠ misunderstanding, nor even⁠⁠‍ for a sacrifice‍ in the name⁠ of the common​‍‍ good. It’s because​‍ of the appearance​‌ of an absolute​ evil, and because⁠‌‌ we raise the‌ sword to protect⁠‍‌ the continent and‍‍​ our loved ones.​⁠ Isn’t that great?‍​​ We’ve fought many​ times before, but​​‍ has there ever‍‍ been a battle⁠ where risking our⁠⁠ lives really didn’t⁠⁠ matter?”

“That’s‌‌⁠ true. Still, living‍ is good.”

“Then​ let’s live.”

They​​ both moved forward.‌

Thus,⁠​ the forces of⁠ Brusen became fully⁠⁠‌ integrated into the​​ Anti-Imperial Alliance. And⁠‍ immediately, they headed‌‍ north.

The​⁠⁠ long march was​‌‌ coming to an⁠ end.

After⁠⁠⁠ passing through the​​⁠ Holy Kingdom, they‍‍​ would head straight‍ into the Empire.‌

***‌⁠‌

The‍‌ Holy Kingdom welcomed‍ Yuri Briol more‍ quietly than Brusen.⁠‍⁠

Luther​ Arsaint, who had‍​‍ ascended to the​‌ throne thanks to⁠ Yuri, dressed in⁠ pure white, gave⁠ them his blessing,⁠​ and the priests​‍ who came out‍​ of the temple⁠​⁠ recited prayers like​‍ incantations, asking for‌‌ their victory.

The‍‌ knights, paladins, and​​⁠ all the military​​ forces of the⁠​‌ Holy Kingdom joined‌‍⁠ in.

Given⁠‌ its nature, the‌‌ Holy Kingdom felt​‍​ an even greater​‍⁠ revulsion toward black​⁠‌ magic, so the⁠ response to this⁠ war was considerable.‌‍ It seemed that‌‍‍ anyone capable of⁠⁠ wielding a weapon‍ was joining the⁠‍ formation.

As‌ he greeted Francesco‌​ and Fenek, who⁠ were waiting with​​‌ their troops, Yuri‍‍​ thought of Sybilla.‍⁠

If⁠ that hadn’t happened,⁠ she could have​ been here fighting‍ alongside them.

It⁠‌‍ would have been⁠‌‍ better that way.⁠

But​‍⁠ the past could‌​ not be changed.⁠⁠ Now the only⁠‍‌ thing he could​ do was kill‍ Cedric and soothe​ her soul.

While​ Yuri was absorbed‌‌‍ in thought, Ainzer‍​ approached.

“They‌‌​ say the Holy⁠​​ Kingdom completely exhausted‌ its orichalcum. We’ve‌‍⁠ received a large⁠ shipment of weapons.”‌‍​

“Oh,​​ really?”

“Most‌‌‍ of us are​ now equipped with‌ orichalcum weapons. Of‌ course, being an‌‌ alloy, the purity​‍ is low.”

“That’s‍ enough. The Holy‌​ Kingdom has made‌‍ a good effort.”​​‍

“The⁠​ old dwarf’s face‍ is a mess.”⁠‌

“Hahaha…”‍​

Yuri‌ smiled, remembering Umstein.‍‍

“It​‌ was the least​ he could do.”‍

Yuri​ turned. Francesco was‌ riding toward him.⁠​

When‍‌ he had lost​‍ his mana, he‌‌‍ had looked like⁠‍ a worn-out vagrant;⁠ now, after slimming⁠​ down and shaving,‍‍ his appearance was⁠⁠ completely different. He​ could pass for‌‌‌ a handsome young​ man.

“Yuri⁠⁠ Briol.”

“You⁠ look well.”

“It⁠‌ could be the‌ last time, so‌⁠​ one has to‌​‍ look presentable, don’t⁠ you think?”

Then‌⁠ Francesco waved to‍‍ the citizens of‌‍‍ the Holy Kingdom.‍‍ They responded with​‌​ cheers.

“When⁠ I lost my⁠‌⁠ mana, I thought⁠ it was a trial sent by‍⁠⁠ God. And when⁠‌‍ you restored it,‍ I thought you⁠ were a messenger⁠‌ sent by Him.”‍‌

“Really?‍​ Me, a divine‍‍ messenger?”

“I’m​⁠ not saying you⁠⁠ actually are. Just‍ that our meeting‍‍​ might have been‍⁠‍ guided by God.”​⁠

“Could‌‌⁠ be.”

“In⁠​ the end, I think it was​ all preparation for​⁠⁠ this moment.”

“And‌⁠ that preparation will‌ only be worth⁠‍‌ it if we⁠ win.”

“We’ll‍​ win.”

Francesco‍ said it with‌ absolute conviction.

Yuri​​‌ asked.

“Why‌‌ are you so​‍​ sure?”

“Have⁠‍ you ever seen​⁠​ an unfinished painting?”‌

“Pardon?”‌⁠‌

“In‍​⁠ the Great Cathedral,‌‌‌ there’s an unfinished⁠⁠ mural.”

Francesco⁠​ rode alongside Yuri⁠​ and continued.

“It⁠ shows the historical‍‍‌ saints walking together.⁠‌ But no one⁠ knows what’s at​⁠ the end. They‍​‍ only used pigments⁠⁠ to depict a blinding light, without​‌ a defined form.”​‌

“Could‌​⁠ it be they‍​ just left it⁠⁠‍ incomplete?”

“There⁠‍ are many stories⁠‍ about it, but‍ none certain. Some‍​ say yes, it⁠‌ was left unfinished.⁠​​ But that doesn’t‌ matter. Even if​ it’s not painted,‍​ we know what⁠‍ lies at the​ end of the‌​​ path the saints​‌‌ are walking.”

Francesco⁠⁠‍ smiled.

“That’s​‌​ why they call‍​ it the holiest‍‍⁠ sacred painting of‍⁠ all.”

“I‍‍ think I understand​⁠ what you mean.”​

“Yes.⁠ The path we‌⁠ follow, and the‍ one you’ve walked—you‍⁠ don’t need to​ see it to‍‍ know where it​​ leads, do you?”‍​

He​​ placed a hand​⁠⁠ on his shoulder.‍⁠

“We’re‍‍ going to win.⁠‌​ If this journey⁠‌​ were to end‍ in tragedy, it‌ would mean the⁠‌​ painter of that⁠‌ mural was insane.‍ But the Creator​ of this world‌​ is not such​ a being.”

“Sounds⁠ nice, but isn’t​⁠ that a bit​‌​ too grand a thought?”

“No.​‌‍ Trust me.”

“Did‍ you perhaps receive⁠‌‍ some revelation in⁠‍‌ a dream last‌​​ night?”

Francesco’s⁠⁠ eyes wavered.

Yuri‍​‍ frowned.

“Were​ you just saying⁠ that, or is​ it true?”

“Just‍⁠ think of it⁠‌ that way.”

“Did​ God really appear​ to you in‌⁠ a dream?”

“He‍ did, with an⁠ indescribable light, like‍ in the Cathedral’s‌‍ mural.”

“And​‌ what did He​⁠ say?”

Francesco⁠‍ looked at him⁠ in silence.

“What?⁠ Why?”

Instead​⁠‌ of answering, he​​ patted his back,⁠ with an unusually‌⁠⁠ kind gesture.

Yuri⁠⁠‍ put on an‍ uncomfortable expression.

“Don’t⁠‌‍ tell me He​​​ spoke about me.”‍⁠⁠

“Let’s‌​ win. We’ll win,‍ Yuri Briol.”

“I’m​ asking you what‌‌⁠ the revelation was.”‌‌

“Let’s​‌⁠ go.”

“Tell⁠⁠ me already.”

“How‌⁠‍ could a mere​⁠ mortal understand the‍ will of God?”​​

“I’m‌‍ not saying to​ understand it, but⁠ at least tell​ me what He‍ said…”

As‍​‌ they argued, the⁠‍​ march did not‍‍​ stop.

The⁠ sound of horns​⁠​ resounded.

Thus,​‌‍ the formation of‍ the Anti-Imperial Alliance​​ begun by Yuri‌ Briol had grown‍ like a snowball‌‌ into a colossal‍‌‍ size.

Only​‍ one thing remained⁠‍​ to march north.⁠

Toward‌ the Empire shrouded‍​⁠ in darkness, the‌‌ final army led⁠‌ by Yuri Briol‌ advanced.

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