Volume 3 Chapter 3 Tyria Is Distant
In the western region of Naroppa, enemy forces had withdrawn on their own. The central area was now calm. Turning her gaze southward, Eleonora spoke firmly:
"We must consider the situation in the south next."
She declared this during a high-level strategy meeting with the empire's top officials. All attention was on her.
"If we gain control over the cavalry tribes of Linhaga, we can apply pressure from the north and seize Tyria."
She continued without pause.
"As for the south—Bearyari is currently under strain. The northern holy order is divided, and their forces are being pushed back by the southern Green Crescent religion."
Seated nearby, Narrow offered his thoughts with a careful nod. Eleonora touched her chin thoughtfully.
"Tyria must be brought under our rule. That sea route—Doaria Sea—is vital for control of the region."
She gave her orders clearly.
"We'll send advance forces and negotiate while preparing the campaign in Linhaga. Let's also station troops around Rorch. If we apply pressure while heading toward Acharaluk..."
"No," Eleonora interrupted. "We won't need troops for that."
She turned, eyes sharp.
"Send this message to the King of Tyria: 'The acting marshal is returning.'"
Though none in the room fully understood the meaning of those words, no one dared question her. It was a direct order from the Empress.
Messengers were dispatched immediately.
Only Charles, among them, looked pale.
"Charles, is something wrong?"
He hesitated before speaking. "Your Majesty... It's a personal matter. I received a letter from my younger sister..."
He opened a rolled piece of sheepskin, reading its contents aloud. It detailed the present state of the Ranava Kingdom, nestled near the Renepie Mountains in the northeastern Bearyari Peninsula.
"The refugees fleeing the war between the Badurko Caliphate and the Oren Castilia Kingdom have overwhelmed the area. Security's worsening due to deserters. They seek help from the King of the West Clan... and Your Majesty, ruler of the Kingdom of Dolbor."
He looked up.
"There's no news reaching them yet. We sent word about the empire's founding and the abdication of the Dolbor throne, but if Ranava falls into chaos, the refugees might pour across the Renepie and enter imperial lands."
Eleonora tapped the desk softly, gathering her thoughts.
"First, we must reassure the Grand Duke of Arlis-Otroot. Linhaga's cavalry must be subdued. Tyria will follow."
Charles pressed further.
"Are we abandoning Ranava?"
Eleonora's tone remained calm. "Not yet. If we move too early, they'll cling to their independence. It's better to wait until they are more vulnerable—when our help becomes something they can't refuse."
Her gaze shifted to her fingertips, and she murmured softly:
"Better to claim the lion's share when the time is right."
* **
Heinrich von Pusaburg, Duke of Arlis-Otroot, had long suffered raids and border thefts from Linhaga. His mountainous territory made defense difficult, and gathering soldiers was no easy task. Linhaga's warriors rode fast, striking hard on horseback. What could foot soldiers do against cavalry who crossed 200 kilometers in a single day, armed with only light armor and spears?
The collapse of the Loriengita Empire—their former suzerain—had only worsened things. Civil war followed, and with each brother vying for the throne, Heinrich's domain lost all support.
In despair, he drank heavily. His retainers stood helpless.
But everything changed when the Ropsein Kingdom rose from the ashes—a nation born of the Magelun tribes. In just two years, they pacified both East and West Clanf lands, forming a new powerhouse: the Holy Maro Empire. Even the former Loriengita royal family fell under their control.
The momentum was unstoppable.
Heinrich, recognizing the tides of history, made his decision.
"Let others fight the war. If I must bow, I will. If you want bread, I'll give meat."
As long as his people were spared, he didn't care who sat the throne.
He opened the castle gates and prepared to receive the imperial army marching into Arlis-Otroot.
* * *
Meanwhile, across the Anpanino Plain of Linhaga, the Rujarama nomads ruled.
They were horse riders, herders, and warriors, led by the great chieftain, or Jura, named Ard Pearl. At the moment, his son Takshonyu was eyeing expansion into the fertile Elunbai region.
The land there was perfect for livestock. The Unad River gave life to both land and people. But the Rujarama wanted more—grain, gold, and silver. Their ambitions stretched west and south.
While the men prepared raids, children trained with horses and bows. One boy spotted a rabbit and gave chase. Guiding his horse silently, he lined up the shot. With a soft whoosh, his arrow struck true. He quickly slit the rabbit's throat to drain it, thinking proudly of his growing skills.
Soon, he'd be allowed on a real raid.
Just then, a sorrowful flute echoed through the plains, followed by the sound of marching feet—infantry, archers, spearmen, cavalry. This wasn't a raid. This was war.
He turned to warn the settlement, but an arrow struck his horse's eye, sending it crashing down.
An elf archer readied another shot, narrowing his gaze.
"A scout?" one asked.
"No. A child. Around ten."
"Capture him alive."
At Georges' signal, Eleonora lowered her right hand. Two light cavalrymen set out. The heavy knights held position while the lighter troops handled recon and small skirmishes.
They had already crushed minor raiding groups on the border and now advanced into the heart of the Anpanino Plain. Information from prisoners led them toward the nomad settlements.
* * *
"Shouldn't we have sent reinforcements to Elunbai?" Georges asked.
"Defeating cavalry is... troublesome," Eleonora replied, not directly answering.
"We'll ride hard into the battlefield, shooting from horseback like one with the wind. Infantry won't keep pace."
"Then... reinforcements for Elunbai?"
"Not needed. They'll retreat on their own. Once we've surrounded the settlement halfway, give the prisoners horses—and let them go."
* * *
Ishtobarn, son of Chieftain Takshonyu, heard the report from the north and frowned. A trap. It had to be.
There was no reason to only half-surround the settlement. No reason to give prisoners horses. They could have just killed them.
This was bait. The army was luring them in.
He told his father everything. Takshonyu understood, but couldn't abandon the settlement—his family and people were there.
The cavalry rode hard, leaving behind loot taken from Elunbai, packing food to their saddles.
When they reached the plains, what they saw froze them.
An army surrounded the settlement—clustered like a crescent moon, rows of tents spread across the grass.
What was strange: the men left behind stood guard outside, fully armed, watching in silence.
Given the strength difference, they should've been wiped out. The women and children should've been captured—or worse.
Yet, nothing had happened.
Suddenly, an elf drew his bow and fired at a sheep. It fell dead.
Looking closer, Ishtobarn noticed livestock corpses scattered across the field. The slaughter had already begun, quietly.
And the army... was still waiting.
"...We're entering the settlement."
"No! Father, if we go in, we'll all die!"
"If we don't, we'll die anyway."
Takshonue's voice was firm, his words heavy with the weight of leadership. A chieftain who refused to lead in crisis would be seen as useless. Useless chieftains didn't survive long.
"Listen to me! We will defend the settlement!"
A chorus of voices responded with a shout. "Oh!"
Ishtobarn could only watch with a grim expression as the warriors drew their swords and spurred their horses forward. Many of them had been with him since childhood. Now, they rode ahead, charging toward the settlement's gates.
As soon as the first riders entered, the imperial army's trap was sprung. The encirclement snapped shut like a claw. Rows of soldiers surrounded the settlement, leaving only about twenty men stationed behind to keep an eye on Ishtobarn and the remaining warriors outside.
The terror of cavalry came from their speed and adaptability. To counter them, the empire used a simple but brutal strategy—force them into what they were worst at.
Static defense.
When cavalry couldn't move freely, couldn't maneuver around attacks, they were far less fearsome. Spears thrust into motionless horses were enough to bring down even the most experienced riders. After that, it became less of a battle and more of a hunt.
The first to move were the dwarven heavy infantry. Despite their short stature, they carried massive shields that covered them entirely. With practiced precision, they marched in formation, forming an advancing wall of steel.
Behind them came the human spearmen. Wearing only light armor, they walked in sync with the dwarves, holding their long spears above the shield line. Together, they moved steadily toward the nomadic defenders.
A rider, panic rising as the enemy wall closed in from all sides, raised his bow. But before he could loose an arrow, five elven archers fired in unison. Their arrows found their marks, striking vital points with deadly accuracy.
From there, it was all momentum.
The front lines pressed forward. Long spears brought down horses, and dwarves surged in, using their shields to trap the riders and drag them down. The noose tightened, and resistance crumbled. Those who didn't fight to the death were quickly tied up with ropes.
Ishtobarn stood still, watching it all unfold. He didn't look away. Not until the end.
When the imperial heavy cavalry began to approach in a charging formation, Ishtobarn finally raised his voice.
"We surrender! We are ready to negotiate terms!"
The battle was over. With the enemy's main camp already captured, the tension broke. Soldiers relaxed, though many still kept their hands near their weapons. Among them, unseen and silent, dark elf spies continued to observe.
A woman stepped forward. She wore armor that gleamed like the sun, and her presence alone silenced the wind.
"Are you the leader of this tribe?" she asked.
Ishtobarn knelt before her. "No... my father is chief. But he is unwell. I will speak on his behalf."
"You attacked without warning," she said coldly. "And now you want to talk?"
That much was true. His people had raided the settlements of Arlis-Otroot and Elunbai, stealing food and fleeing before any proper response could be mustered. Now that a stronger force had struck back, they came crawling.
"But luck is on your side," the woman said at last. "We, too, want to return home. I will listen—for now."
Ishtobarn felt a flicker of hope. If they could survive this, perhaps they could still return to Machiki Village.
"From now on, we will not attack your people."
"Of course you won't," she said flatly. "That's not even worth discussing."
"...Then, must we convert? Should we abandon our worship of the spirits?"
"There's no need to offer us your faith," she replied.
That answer startled him. Usually, the victors demanded conversion.
"Is that all?" she asked, her voice cooling again. "If so, then you're no different from any other nomads. A nuisance."
A chill ran through Ishtobarn. He feared they were about to be executed. But then, something caught his eye.
The Suno clan.
Like his own people, they were feared raiders. They wore chainmail and distinctive teardrop-shaped helmets, their shields bearing the mark of a three-headed dragon. That same emblem flew on the banner behind the woman.
Realization dawned.
They were not outsiders to her—they were her allies.
"We offer you our horses and our bows," he said quickly.
"Go on," she replied.
"We did not know someone of your rank was present. We acted foolishly. We ask forgiveness... and we ask to serve under your banner."
"What will you do," she said, "if you face other horse clans like yourselves?"
"We will rain arrows upon anyone who stands in your way."
A smile tugged at her lips. "Very well. From this day forward, you shall have the territory of Linhaga, and you shall bear the title of Count. Serve the Holy Maro Empire faithfully."
"We are honored. We swear our loyalty to you, now and forever."
A noble nearby, dressed in black and silver robes, stepped forward.
"Your Majesty," he began, "may I speak?"
It was Heinrich, a high-ranking noble from Arlis-Otroot.
"I wish to propose a condition tied to the recent conversions."
The woman—Eleonora—turned to him. "Why? I do not force others to change their faith."
"My daughter, Maria, will be wed. If Arlis-Otroot approves, then Elunbai will follow. It's a matter of honor."
"And?"
"If nobles begin converting to foreign beliefs and cultures, even Your Majesty may choose not to intervene. We, of Pusaburg, will act as intermediaries. In return, I ask that the Linhaga soldiers be recognized as troops under Arlis-Otroot command."
Eleonora paused. Then she laughed.
"You're bold. Willing to use former enemies for your own benefit... I like that."
She signaled the end of the council.
Without another word, she turned and left the camp. Her gaze drifted toward the distant lands of Tyria.
"We march now, all of us," she said softly.
The wind carried her voice like a fading whisper—a farewell to the homeland left behind.
Notes:
• Linhaga - A region in the story where the nomadic tribe Rujarama resides. It is specifically associated with the Anpanino Plains, a fertile area suitable for livestock and agriculture
• Narrow - Male. A former Viscount's son who severed ties with his family to serve Eleonora. Wears an iron mask due to past leprosy, now cured. Skilled in military strategy, governance, theology, and heraldry. Speaks formally and is determined to prove his worth. Has a distant relationship with his family. His combat style is unknown, but he is entrusted with leading a platoon of 300 men.
• Charles - Male. King of the West Clanf Kingdom. He has brown skin and a regal appearance, often seen in royal attire. His speech is accented due to his southern roots. He is melancholic and pragmatic, prioritizing economic stability over territorial expansion. He has a newborn son, Arsène, and a sister, Elodia. His relationship with his lords is strained due to his passive governance.
• Bearyari Peninsula - A peninsula located in the south. It is home to the Ranava Kingdom, which is facing instability due to war and refugee influx. The empire is monitoring the situation but is cautious about intervening prematurely.
• Renepie Mountains - A mountain range located in the northeast of the Bearyari Peninsula. It serves as a natural barrier, and refugees from Ranava are seeking to cross it to enter the empire.
• Dolbor - A kingdom ruled by Charles, known for its thriving commerce and strategic location. It is located east of the continent and is a key player in regional politics.
• Arlis-Otroot - A semi-independent region with strong influence from the East Clanf Kingdom.
• Heinrich - Male. Heinrich von Pusaburg. Duke of Arlis-Otroot. His appearance is noble, with a pragmatic and self-preserving attitude. He is willing to ally with the empire to protect his territory from Linhaga's raids. His relationship with Eleonora is transactional, aiming to secure his own interests. He is strategic and uses marriage alliances to strengthen his position.
• Ropsein Kingdom - A budding military power located in Naroppa, known for restructuring Kotche territory and functioning as a production base for weapons and armor. It has protected the lives of soldiers from the Holy Maro Empire.
• Magelun - A dangerous and barbaric land, but a potential refuge from the East Clanf Kingdom.
• Rujarama - A nomadic tribe of horse-riding people in the story. They are described as ruling the Anpanino Plains in Linhaga and are led by a great chieftain from the House of Ardpearl. The Rujarama are known for their expansionist ambitions, seeking resources like grain, gold, and silver, and engaging in plundering activities. In the narrative, they face a strategic confrontation with the imperial army led by Eleonora.
• Georges - A rugged-faced knight and the only lower noble among the Twelve Sacred Blades. He volunteers to lead the cavalry, seeking promotion and recognition. He harbors ambitions to marry Princess Elodia.
• Ishtobarn - Male. Son of Takshonue. His appearance is youthful, with a strategic mind and a bitter outlook. A representative of the Rujarama nomads. He is loyal to his father and tribe, but he recognizes the futility of their situation. His relationship with Eleonora is one of a captured enemy seeking terms. He is a skilled archer and horseman.
• Takshonue - Male. Great chieftain of the Rujarama nomads. His appearance is that of a seasoned leader, with a determined and protective demeanor. He values his family and tribe, leading them into battle despite knowing the risks. His relationship with his son, Ishtobarn, is one of a chieftain and heir. He is a skilled warrior and leader.
• Rea - Wilhelm's sister.
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