Within the alliance, Nat had always held the top position. With his strong troops and abundant supplies, he shouldn't have been in such a dire situation. However, under the call of the Temple, countless idle knights and nobles were drawn to the front lines, leaving Edward's group at a disadvantage. They were constantly on the defensive, forced to fight back while being overwhelmed.
Outnumbered, they had pinned their hopes on the Templars being greedy bloodsuckers hoarding their wealth. Yet, to better support the war effort, the Templars had begun selling indulgencesâfor just ten pounds, one could purchase an indulgence bearing the Templar emblem, guaranteeing entry into Heaven after death!
It must be said that this practice would later become infamous, but at that moment, it proved remarkably effective. Everyone rushed to purchase indulgencesâeven those without sin sought a measure of peace of mind.
Thus, the Templars rapidly amassed wealth. For a time, Edward and his forces found themselves utterly unable to resist, and the alliance retreated step by step. Seeing this was untenable, the Queen implemented a new conscription method in Nat.
Countless peasants, encouraged, set off with their hoes. Serfs, however, possessed no freedom. They were conscripted or purchased en masse and sent directly to the front lines.
Yet no one harbored hope. To them, this was a sacrilegious war. Those sent off wore gloomy expressions, and Tang Feiliu felt deeply distressedânot only for the casualties of war but also for his concern over Edward.
Yet he could do nothing to help, only work harder overseeing the hospital and ensuring supplies of food and clothing reached the front lines. Speaking of which, Tang Feiliu suddenly had a better idea!
He grabbed the overwhelmed Charlemagne and said, "Let's get a military doctor!"
"What? A military doctor?" Charlemagne took a moment to process. "What exactly does that entail? I assume it involves dangerous battlefields?"
"Yes, to dangerous battlefields!" Tang Feiliu realized that in this era, the concept of modern medicine simply didn't exist. Many wounded soldiers died from infected wounds. Though he'd sent Edward plenty of sterilized distilled alcohol, having a skilled medic on the front lines would drastically increase the knights' chances of survival.
Realizing this, Tang Feiliu felt the matter was of utmost importance. After finishing his conversation with Charlemagne, he turned and headed straight for his brother.
Upon opening the door, Tang Feiliu discovered his brother was also treating patientsâright there in the director's office. His eyes widened as he recognized a familiar face.
Last time Tang Feiliu had seen Raven, he'd sported a head of curly hair. This time, he didn't recognize him at first glanceâhis hair had been shaved completely clean. Upon catching Tang Feiliu's gaze, Raven turned away in embarrassment, looking like a peacock stripped of its feathers.
"What happened?" Tang Feiliu asked his brother. Since opening the hospital, Alexander had shifted his entire professional focus to this place. Here, for the first time, Alexander had truly found something he loved. Money had never been scarce for Alexander since childhood. He loved fine cuisine, but not with the same intensity as his younger brother.
Alexander had once believed he might spend his life dabbling in trivial pursuits. This mindset persisted even after arriving at the imperial capital and receiving an audience with Her Majesty. He had merely adjusted his ambitions, content to become a minor noble and carry out the Queen's commands.
But this notion vanished the moment he curiously encountered medicineânot because of its concepts, but because of the profound sense of accomplishment that came from saving lives.
Especially surgery. On the rudimentary operating tables of the time, he began earnestly studying the anatomy of animals and humans with his mentor, Charlemagne. He started learning to discuss with his brother how to suture and stop bleeding, how to bandage wounds and disinfect... Alexander gradually absorbed these skills, though the queen's commands prevented him from immersing himself entirely in medical research. Instead, he had to devote considerable time to hospital affairs.
Consequently, Alexander's practical experience lagged behind that of Charlemagne's other direct disciples. Yet the fact that the Marquis of Raven had sought treatment in the director's office immediately after his head was fractured suggested Alexander had already gained some renown.
"He was ambushed on the road," Alexander remarked coolly. "Fortunately, that rock didn't completely shatter his skull. Otherwise, he'd have been waiting to die." Since it wasn't his precious younger brother, Alexander felt no overwhelming sympathy.
Upon hearing the injury was not life-threatening, Tang Feiliu quickly shifted focus from discussing Raven. She turned to her brother with earnestness: "Brother, among your doctors, are there any particularly skilled in surgery? Gather them all. I wish to train a contingent of military surgeonsâfree of charge."
"Army doctors?" Raven, listening nearby, perked up with interest. He pondered for a moment before replying, "I heard from His Majesty that Edward is in a tight spot at the front right now. The numbers are too overwhelming. They can only retreat and engage in harassment tactics. There's no way they can..."
His voice trailed off as Alexander shot him a furious glare. Tang Feiliu, however, remained undeterred. The more urgent the situation, the more single-minded he became. He paid no heed to Raven's words, focused solely on protecting Edward. Even if it was a small contribution, Tang Feiliu was determined to increase Edward's chances of survival.
"Come back tomorrow for a dressing change. Keep it dry and don't eat junk! Now get out of here!" Alexander waved Raven away, then turned to his younger brother. "...There is a way, but with the front lines constantly retreating under these circumstances, sending it over probably won't make much difference."
"But I believe Edward will find a way. I just worry he might get hurt..." Tang Feiliu said anxiously, fearing her brother might refuse.
How could Alexander disagree? This war was crucial to every Natian, especially those still in the Imperial Cityâmostly Queen Josephineâs confidants. If the city fell and her power was overthrown, theyâd be among the first executed.
Alexander had been contemplating action himself, but had lacked a clear plan until now. Hearing Tang Feiliu's suggestion, how could he refuse?
Yet as he watched his younger brother, Alexander sighed inwardly, silently praying, Edward, please don't get into trouble.
Meanwhile, Edward on the front lines was racing forward with his trusted men. The Black Duke had always excelled at ambushes and assassinations, and his knights were well-trained, battle-hardened warriors. Yet the sheer numbers of the enemy meant that even with their overwhelming combat prowess, they risked being overwhelmed like ants swarming an elephant. They couldn't fight freely and decisively; prolonged engagement only invited wave after wave of reinforcements, leading to heavy casualties.
Never in the Black Duke's campaigns had he faced such utter disarray. Worse still, the allied nations' commanders remained divided in their operations, lacking the unified resolve of those fools from the Temple. Though Edward despised the enemy for being manipulated by the Templars into certain death, he couldn't help but marvel at how the power of faith could bind scattered sand into a cohesive force that could not be ignored.
"Duke, we cannot retreat any further. Retreating any more would bring us to Nat. They have no urgency, but we cannot afford to fall back..." In the night, Jonathan, the newly appointed squad leader, spoke up among the gathered men. A ruddy-faced man in his thirties, he downed a large gulp of wine before spitting out, his breath reeking of alcohol, "Those fools are still squabbling. They've been holding back their strength the whole time, not giving a damn about our situation..."
"Jonathan," the Knight Commander interjected, gazing at him with a warning glance to watch his words. He sighed before turning to Edward. "Your Excellency, Jonathan is right about one thing. Our allies have been conserving their strength. Even when we were nearly surrounded, they failed to come to our aid..."
Edward took a swig of strong liquor. Gone was the smiling duke from the imperial palace. Now clad in knight's armor, his body stained with blood, he surveyed his menâtheir wounds haphazardly bandagedâand the horses that had lost their riders... Edward drew a deep breath and murmured, "We truly cannot retreat any further."
Half a month later, shocking news emerged from the front lines: the Black Duke had executed two allied noble commanders on the battlefield. They were found to have corresponded with the Templars, prompting a sweeping purge of Templar-affiliated knights within the army. This enraged both nations, yet they found no pretext to intervene.
They dared not act, for they stood on the same side. Now was not the time for such calculations. Yet Edward's actions had delivered a resounding slap across their faces. Immediately after, a well-equipped army emerged from York within Edward's domain, leaving all speechless.
Those who had been mistaken for mere security captains, those thought to be ordinary country patrolmenâon this day, they shone like pearls hidden in dust swept clean by a fierce wind. The sooty grime vanished, revealing their radiant brilliance.
Yet this assembled force bore none of a pearl's gentle grace. Their bearing differed entirely from hastily conscripted slaves or commoners; their eyes held steely resolve, their bodies marked by years of arduous training.
Most terrifying of all, they led their own warhorses, clad in their own armor and wielding their own swordsâeven those without mounts carried personal weapons.
This might seem ordinary, but the sheer number of men and the quality of their equipment would have cost enough gold to build a golden palace. Moreover, such weapons and armor could not have been produced in such a short time.
The Black Duke's trump card astonished everyone. At the same time, the Imperial First Hospital dispatched its first contingent of military medicsâa mere twenty individuals, representing the absolute limit of what could be provided.
"...Edward's actions will make things difficult for him later." Alexander, like the people of Nat Imperial City, had gone to watch the troops pass through. The contingent was resupplying at the imperial city, where Her Majesty Josephine provided them with the finest provisions. She wore a smile that seemed genuinely heartfelt, and even the nobles raised their cups in toast to the Black Duke.
Yet even Tang Feiliu understood: Edward's grand gamble meant that if he lost, it would be one thing. But if he won, there would be no more peaceful days for him in Nat.
A nation could only have one king. Even those who had supported him through the darkest years could not withstand this inexplicable, steadily accumulating wariness and alarm.
"Brother, would you like to come with me to the New Continent?" Tang Feiliu asked Alexander softly.
Tang Feiliu had pondered why Edward was preparing for the New World. Heâd assumed Edward had heard some rumors⊠Heâd guessed everythingâexcept that the moment would come so soon.
The arrangements long overlooked were laid bare on this day. The power displayed by the Black Duke left Tang Feiliu with no doubt that Edward would return alive and well. Yet Tang Feiliu knew he must make preparations early, for by the time Edward returned, this place might no longer be their haven.
Author's Note:
Thanks to Tangyuan Nuonuo for the landmine.