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Feeling relieved, Repenhardt walked towards Siris. Asrael, who was escorting her, saluted.

“Are you unharmed, White King?”

Repenhardt gave a brief nod and asked,

“Are you okay?”

Siris stood up and moved her limbs. Thanks to liberally applying that expensive healing potion like water, most of her wounds had healed.

“I can’t fight, but I’m fine to move around.”

Seeing Repenhardt’s relieved expression, Siris asked,

“What about him?”

“He ran away.”

“Tch….”

Siris bit her lower lip in frustration.

“If it wasn’t for those strange shoes, I wouldn’t have been defeated like this….”

It was understandable to feel resentful when she was outmatched not by skill but by equipment. Repenhardt smiled knowingly. Then, he took something out from behind his back.

“But I still got something good. Here’s a gift.”

Asrael was momentarily horrified. What Repenhardt held out was a pair of feet, severed at the ankles. The bloodstains on the boots were still fresh.

Wait, was he really presenting severed feet as a gift, even though Siris was a seasoned warrior used to corpses?

No, this was definitely not okay.

“Um, White King….”

With burning loyalty, Asrael tried to dissuade Repenhardt. He couldn’t bear to see his respected lord humiliated in front of others.

But Siris accepted the severed feet with delight.

“Oh! These are the artifacts he was using!”

She then looked up at Repenhardt with a delighted expression and asked,

“Are you sure I can use these?”

“Of course! They wouldn’t fit my feet anyway.”

Siris’s eyes sparkled at Repenhardt’s boisterous reply. She was clearly overjoyed.

Asrael’s jaw dropped. Whether giving or receiving, the two were indeed quite alike.

“…….”

In truth, it wasn’t that these two displayed such behavior because of inherently cruel dispositions.

Siris had grown up in the harsh Spelrat Desert and had lived as a slave ever since. She had always suffered from a lack of supplies, living a life of scarcity. In her mindset, it didn’t matter if the shoes were worn by a corpse or a beggar—shoes were shoes, and there was no reason for her to have any reservations.

Repenhardt, on the other hand, was so focused on the powerful artifact, the Blink Boots, that he didn’t concern himself with minor details—such as the severed feet inside the boots. Mages, by nature, tended to ignore most things as long as they were related to magic.

However, to those who didn’t know them, the scene looked truly bizarre. Soldiers from Baron Galin’s forces, passing by, started whispering among themselves.

“Whoa, he’s giving her severed feet as a gift.”

“And the woman is happy to receive them.”

“What the heck, those people are scary….”

Cutting off a part of the enemy and presenting it as a gift to a woman—this seemed fittingly brutal for the Fist Emperor of Gym Unbreakable, they thought, nodding in agreement. Unbeknownst to them, Repenhardt was simply delighted to have found a useful piece of equipment.

After removing the Blink Boots, Repenhardt casually tossed aside Jade’s severed ankles. Then, he gestured to Siris.

“Try them on, Siris.”

“They surprisingly fit perfectly.”

“These Blink Boots have a size adjustment feature to some extent. It won’t work if the size difference is too big, like with my feet.”

Meanwhile, Baron Galin’s forces continued to secure Hundargard. Soon, a knight appeared at the spire window, holding a severed head.

With a powerful voice, the knight proclaimed their victory.

“I have beheaded Baron Chetas! Victory is ours!”

* * *

The war between the two families, which began over a trivial dispute, ended with a decisive victory for Baron Galin, who had the support of the Duchy of Antares.

Baron Chetas was beheaded and his head displayed, while the men of his family were all killed. Since it was a territorial war and not a national conflict, the women and children retained their noble status, but they lost all their wealth and power and were driven out of their lands. They became typical fallen nobles.

The Barony of Chetas was divided as per the agreement, with Baron Galin and the Duchy of Antares taking control. The eastern half, from the Gloten Mountain Range to the Fetland Plain, which bordered the southern part of the duchy, became the new territory of the Duchy of Antares.

The original Duchy of Antares was so small that it was more comparable to a viscounty in size. In fact, it was originally a viscounty.

On the other hand, the Chetas family, although the lowest-ranking barony, was a branch of the traditional noble family of Marquis Fonteiron, so their territory was larger than that of most counties. Therefore, even with only half of it, their land area more than tripled.

Repenhardt could have easily swallowed the entire Barony of Chetas if he wanted to. However, Karl dissuaded him, arguing that rapid expansion could provoke the neighboring nobles.

Thus, they decided to cede half to Baron Galin in exchange for better treatment of non-humans. What Repenhardt desired was not conquest but a change in perception. It was better to have a reliable ally in the form of Baron Galin’s family than to be greedy for land.

“After all, we gained the City of Zarud, so we secured substantial benefits.”

Sitting in his office, Repenhardt spread out a lavishly gilded parchment. It was a decree sent by Yubel II.

– Baron Chetas ignored the king’s authority and started a war without accepting a rightful duel, so his crime is very grave. In recognition of Count Antares’ merit in punishing that wicked man, it is hereby acknowledged in the name of King Crovence that Zarud and the eastern part of Katan are territories of the Duchy of Antares.

Yubel II, who already had a great affection for Repenhardt, immediately recognized the result of the territorial war, granting it legitimacy. Legally, the new territory was now unquestionably his.

“This should be enough to lay the foundation.”

Folding the parchment, Repenhardt stood up.

‘Now that the external affairs are roughly settled… it’s time to focus on internal consolidation for a while.’

Most administrative tasks were handed over to Karl, but there were still quite a few matters that required attention.

There were issues with the integration of new territories and the need to gather information about the Arclight family. They also needed to rescue abused different species and settle them in the Duchy of Antares.

“And I need to raise my Circle a bit more to find the relics of the Four Great Gods.”

To break through the ancient barrier hiding the relics of the Four Great Gods, at least 8-Circle magic was required. Thanks to a massive Mana Drain spell he cast earlier, Repenhardt’s body was already at full mana capacity. Casting another Mana Drain wouldn’t increase his mana any further. He needed to expand his vessel through meditation.

Therefore, while rescuing different species, he also raided nearby dungeons, collecting quite a few relics from the Silver Age. He intended to take his time to calmly increase his mana.

Looking out the window, Repenhardt murmured softly.

“I’m busy in many ways. Both me and the Duchy of Antares…”

In the spring when everything sprouted, the new shoots that endured the harsh winter were showing off their greenery all over the barren Fetland Plain.

This vast plain, stretching east from the Gloten Mountain Range, was too barren for farming, so no national-scale force existed here. The adjacent Crovence and Vasily Kingdoms had no interest in this land. The Gloten Mountain Range and the Rakid Mountains formed a rugged barrier between the Fetland Plain and the two countries. There was no benefit in occupying the land, and the effort to manage it was many times greater. Though not as frequent as in Deathland, monsters appeared often enough that there was no reason to be greedy for it.

Therefore, this area had been the territory of nomadic tribes for generations.

Raising horses and sheep, they wandered the plain in small tribal units scattered throughout Fetland. Occasionally, ambitious individuals tried to unite the nomads and invade fertile lands, but they were always thwarted by the Gloten and Rakid Mountains. These two mountain ranges served as both a shield protecting the nomads of Fetland and a wall confining them there.

With no invaders and no reason to invade, there was no need to unite. Thus, over the long years, while there were minor conflicts among the tribes, there had never been a massive war in Fetland.

However, for the first time in centuries, Fetland was on the brink of a large-scale war.

In the central region of the Fetland Plain, an army of ten thousand soldiers had gathered behind the giant rocky mountain known as Wolf Mountain, named for its resemblance to a crouching wolf. This human army was composed of nomadic tribes from across the Fetland Plain.

At the forefront of the army, the commander Langot, who had been elected as the temporary leader of the nomadic tribes, muttered in a trembling voice.

“To think… something like this would happen…”

Felipe, a middle-aged warrior and the chieftain of one of the largest tribes in Fetland, who rode alongside Langot, responded with a hardened voice.

“I wonder if we can really defeat those monsters…”

Both Langot and Felipe were renowned warriors of the Fetland Plain. In fact, it was said that no nomad from the Fetland Plain lacked bravery. Living in the harsh nature, the nomadic tribes were skilled in battle and known for their bravery and ferocity compared to the agrarian peoples.

But now, fear filled the eyes of these gathered warriors.

This was because the beings before them were far more skilled in battle, braver, and more ferocious than they were.

What the nomads of the Fetland Plain were looking at was a massive army of thousands of orcs lined up on the other side of the plain.

* * *

Riding a direwolf, Kalken looked back at his army. Around four thousand armed orcs were lined up in orderly ranks. These warriors were from orc tribes gathered from the remote corners of the continent, including the Blue Bear Tribe. Among them were also a thousand orc gladiators led by Talkata.

A grey orc approached Kalken, riding his own direwolf. He was a middle-aged orc with grey skin and a robust build.

The middle-aged orc, gazing at the orc army, spoke with a voice full of emotion.

“This is the first time I’m entering battle with so many brothers, Karuga Kalken.”

“Same for me, Karuga Hadatoum.”

Kalken looked at Hadatoum, the chieftain of the Grey Hawk Tribe, with an expression of agreement. The fact that so many brothers could gather in one place was like a dream for someone like him who had always lived hidden in the remote areas.

“Repenhardt indeed kept his promise.”

From the opposite side, a gigantic orc with green skin approached, riding a battle boar several times the size of a normal wild boar. This orc, who controlled such a massive beast, was Kinzir, the chieftain of the Dirt Boar Clan, a group of green orcs.

Kinzir looked at the orc army and spoke in an excited tone.

“Truly a magical event. Not having to worry about the human army beyond the mountains….”

In the past, they wouldn’t have dared to gather this many orcs. Whenever the orcs tried to assemble, a human army several times larger would come over the mountains and capture them as slaves. No matter how fierce the orc warriors were, they had to fall helplessly against the attacks led by human mages.

“Well, it’s true that the Repenhardt brothers are mages….”

Kalken continued with a wry smile.

“But this isn’t magic; it’s diplomacy, Karuga Kinzir.”

Kinzir tilted his head in puzzlement.

“What is that?”

“It’s how humans adjust their opinions among themselves.”

Hadatoum asked curiously.

“Then why not just perform the Ritual of Hotu?”

“It seems to be different from the Ritual of Hotu. Humans go through a very complicated process because they can’t hear the Song of the Sword. I heard that orcs will also have to do it later… My wife seems to understand it a bit, but I have no idea what it means.”

Currently, Stalla was not participating in the battle and had remained in the Duchy of Antares. Kinzir and Hadatoum nodded earnestly.

“Whatever it is, it seems necessary.”

“But I heard that learning it won’t make you a great warrior.”

“Then we need to cultivate something like a diplomat, just as we have a weapons master.”

Kalken said as he looked across the orc army.

“We can learn that from them. From our human brothers.”

Alongside the four thousand orcs were about a thousand human soldiers. These were the soldiers of the Duchy of Antares, led by Cyrus and Sir Azrael.

Azrael stood at the front of the formation and shouted towards the Fetland army. His voice, amplified by magic, resounded loudly across the sky of the plain.

“Surrender under the flag of Antares! Those who swear loyalty will be treated well!