Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Echoes of the Steel Alliance
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If there were an anthropologist with nothing better to do on this continent, they would spend their entire life pondering one question.
What truly distinguishes humans, elves, and orcs—neck, torso, or gut?
Or perhaps they would debate whether other races should be classified as subspecies and who gets to set that standard.
But there was one fact acknowledged across the continent, even without such criteria:
Humans from the 'North' and humans from the 'East' are undoubtedly the same species.
Short stature, pure eyes.
The industrious, peace-loving Eastern humans had settled in the resource-rich East, much like the ancient Northern humans who stirred to life there.
Using their small frames for mining and their deft hands for smelting, they ushered in the Iron Age faster than any other race.
This was a far cry from the Northern humans who still relied on hunting and gathering, and they even established a human kingdom an era ahead of them.
But a flock without fences makes easy prey, and the Eastern kingdom, ignorant of warfare, was ripe for devouring.
'Swallow them whole.'
The orc tribes, who had roamed the Central Continent as nomads, pushed eastward into human lands.
They engulfed the peaceful kingdom entirely, enslaving the Eastern humans.
Mines and minerals were stripped bare.
The ironworking knowledge honed over centuries was absorbed by the greedy orcs, and once their usefulness waned, the artisans' hands were severed to prevent them from passing on their skills.
The orcs, now armed with overwhelming might and mastery of steel, had evolved.
Having drained every last resource from the Eastern humans, the orcs shed their nomadic ways and forged a vast empire dominating the Central Continent.
Yet there was one glorious chapter in that wretched Eastern kingdom's history when they resisted the orcs.
It was the time when the human hero who founded the Northern Kingdom—the Knight King—rose up.
'Northern brothers.'
'Eastern brothers.'
The bond of shared humanity proved stronger than any alliance or oath.
The Northern Kingdom aided the Eastern Kingdom's bid for independence, while the Eastern Kingdom toiled to produce steel for the Northern Kingdom's wars.
In that golden age, when humans boasted their greatest prosperity in the continent's long history,
the two kingdoms, dubbed the 'Steel Alliance,' seemed poised for eternal glory.
But the Knight King died,
and the Northern Kingdom fell.
The Eastern Kingdom, left alone on the continent, chose surrender to survive.
Nine years later,
it lingered on as a hollow vassal state, operating for the Orc Empire's benefit.
"Your Majesty, isn't production down from last year? You should urge the miners on."
"Urging won't do. The whip is better. Humans only listen when you beat them, after all."
Humans only listen when you beat them.
One had to wonder if such words could truly come from another human's mouth.
Yet none of the ministers at the council dared reproach him.
Most gathered here were sycophants who had thrived by fawning over the Empire, after all.
"Speaking of which, who gets this month's shipment? No idea."
"The Second Prince again, like last time? What a shrewd one he is."
"We should consider rank, though. With the throne still in doubt..."
The only path to the Central Continent ran through the Screaming Gorge, territory ruled by the Second Prince.
Thus, even amid the raging civil war, the Second Prince monopolized the abundant tribute from the Eastern Kingdom.
Yet the power balance among the current factions hovered at an odd 2:1:1.
The First Prince's vast territories were formidable, and the Third Prince commanded no small force either.
Which prince to back for eternal wealth and favor?
The ministers racked their brains, utterly indifferent to the kingdom's plight.
Of course, they didn't forget to poll the straw man first.
"What do you think, Your Majesty?"
"...Do as you see fit."
"Have you no opinion?"
"...Do as you see fit."
The Eastern King sat upon the throne.
But with only a crown on his head, his ragged appearance and lifeless voice made him seem more corpse than king.
It was perhaps inevitable.
What resolve could a king who had personally surrendered his kingdom possess?
King Wilhelm II of the East repeated the same words, waiting only for the meeting to end.
"Then we'll proceed as we decide."
The sycophants smiled contentedly at his display and dove into heated debate over where to send the tribute.
A king who did not rule, ministers who were all flatterers.
This doomed nation squeezed the lifeblood from its Eastern human subjects, dragging on its repulsive, loathsome history.
But the shifting tides in the North were beginning to stir the East as well.
One minister who had heard the rumors spoke up first.
"Have you heard the news?"
"Pardon?"
"They say the Northern Kingdom has been refounded."
A new Knight King had destroyed an orc colony and rebuilt the fallen Northern Kingdom.
The Eastern humans who had once fought alongside them felt a tangle of emotions at the rumor.
These sycophants, however, remained consistent.
"Utter madness. How do they plan to deal with the fallout?"
"Tch, typical ignorant Northern barbarians. As long as it doesn't harm us."
The Steel Alliance was ancient history.
Far from sending envoys of congratulations, the ministers fretted only for their own safety and adjourned the council.
But those who had overheard were not just the king and his ministers.
In one dim corner of the now-empty palace, untouched by light, an Eastern youth emerged alongside a middle-aged knight.
Thud, thud, thud.
Small but proud shoulders, eyes gleaming with purity and passion.
Prince Richard of the Eastern Kingdom turned to his sole ally, Knight Ronald.
"...Is what they said true?"
"We heard it clearly, Your Highness."
The sycophants had sealed the palace against rumors to deafen the king and themselves.
But they couldn't block what these healthy ears heard directly.
The Knight King's successor had refounded the kingdom.
Richard, who had grown up in the golden age, could scarcely contain his trembling heart.
This was the one chance to oust his incompetent father the king and those sycophants, to save the suffering Eastern humans and their vassal kingdom.
As if resolving himself at last, Richard furrowed his thick brows and declared,
"We must meet them."
"The Knight King?"
"Yes. We'll seek their aid."
The situation now mirrored the past.
To break free of orc rule, the Eastern Kingdom desperately needed the Knight King's help.
But though a prince, Richard lacked the authority to command or even move freely.
Constant clashes between his inept father and the sycophant ministers had stripped him of most power.
The kingdom showed no sign of sending even congratulatory envoys; no matter how he racked his brain, no path presented itself.
Unlike the despairing Richard, Knight Ronald seemed to recall something and spoke.
"Your Highness, there is a way. What of the merchant caravans leaving the kingdom?"
"Merchant caravans? You mean the kingdom's own?"
So-called kingdom merchants were just pouches of sycophant coin, delivering tribute to the orcs and peddling the scraps back to Easterners at exorbitant prices.
Yet even dung has its uses, it seemed. Knight Ronald leaned in and whispered,
"One of the mid-level managers owes me a debt. Join their caravan and slip north with me."
Once they reached the North, he would beg on his knees if needed.
No— the moment he made this resolve, he was as good as dead.
What was there to fear on the cliff's edge?
Richard nodded and slipped out of the stifling East in secret from the royal household.
Much had changed since the coronation.
For one, Snow-Covered spent more time on the throne than at my side, and now she had to uphold the dignity of a queen.
I had worried at first, given her wildly free spirit. But with ample personal time accounted for, she adapted well enough.
Change was inevitable.
I too had to shed clothes unfit for the newly refounded Northern Kingdom.
'Knight Commander, Broken Sword.'
There had been much debate over my position.
Should I retain my old title as Knight Commander, or lead all Northern forces as Marshal?
Loathing the workload, I pushed for proper delegation of authority, and suddenly Gray Wolf became Marshal alongside me, helping organize the Northern Army.
The void left by Blue Hand loomed large.
I quietly nodded in sympathy beside Gray Wolf, who feared paperwork more than enemies.
But our grumbling was short-lived. After successful spring planting and village rebuilding let us catch our breath, a flood of neglected matters poured in.
The Prime Minister spoke first.
"The most urgent is border defense. We have no choice but to retake the White Gate."
The North was ringed by an uninhabitable mountain range to the rear, seas on the flanks, and towering peaks ahead.
Yet one wide passage linked it to the continent: the White Gate, built by the Knight King.
Gray Wolf spoke up.
"The nearest territory is the Second Prince's, right?"
"Yes, a slimy bastard."
Even in midsummer, the harsh, snowbound mountains deterred any Northerner from crossing—a natural fortress.
But without the White Gate linking North to Central Continent, all those advantages meant nothing; it was just a barn with an open door.
The Prime Minister was right.
We needed the gate for border defense.
"If we retake the gate."
A voice came from the throne.
All at the council bowed toward Knight King Snow-Covered.
"Can you ensure it won't be lost again?"
Retaking the gate only to lose it again—that question pierced to the heart in an instant.
Speaking for all, I replied,
"I guarantee it, Your Majesty."
The gate had held for decades.
Without internal betrayal, it was an impregnable fortress that would never have fallen.
"Then let's find a way."
The dam had to break eventually.
Success there would give us the edge in any full-scale war with the orc homeland.
Ministers and knights, silent moments before, began sharing experiences, variables, and terrain details.
"What about over the mountains?"
"You're mad? We'd freeze solid."
"Thinking back, the right lower wall was pretty weak. Maybe there..."
"It's been fully repaired for ages."
Some solid ideas flew back and forth.
It was free discussion regardless of rank, and an excited Snow-Covered leaned back on the throne, listening intently.
But then, calm yet urgent footsteps echoed from the opened corridor.
The intruder was a familiar middle-aged soldier, promoted from captain to royal guard.
All eyes turned to him.
"F-Forgive my rudeness. It's so urgent, I had to deliver it myself..."
"It's fine. Speak."
"An elf envoy has arrived."