The Abandoned Ones: The Yellow Path 12 Palaces
The Yellow Path 12 Palaces. The twelve guardians who protect the Theodor Holy Empire. Born from fatalism, a sense of chosen superiority. Exclusive pure-bloodism. Feudal lordship. True to the Holy Empire's emphasis on noble bloodlines and backgrounds, the guardians of the Yellow Path 12 Palaces were mostly the privileged elite from prestigious families who inherited pure blood.
By upholding this exclusive pure-bloodism, they fully inherited the powers of the Holy Empire's founding ancestors, boasting innate prowess. Chosen privileged class. Innate powers and talents. Peerless beauty and glory passed down through incest and political marriages. A setting perfectly suited for romance fantasy. After all, romance fantasy is modeled on early modern Europe from the start.
The supreme beings I could only glimpse from afar were the Yellow Path 12 Palaces... And Zigrinde's ultimate goal was to join them? Even the romance fantasy heroine longed for these sacred guardians with unwavering yearning. How did Leonora take one down?
The Sword Saint Helian von Sargus died in the original story as well. The reason was never revealed. It was simply stated that he "died." Likely a setup to create a vacancy in the 12 Palaces for the heroine Zigrinde. With Helian's death, the Holy Empire suffered the humiliating defeat of being breached by the Colonial Empire's invasion.
And Helian's isolated subordinates on the battlefield were even transported to the frozen lands under the command of Leonora, who led the invasion.
"Kailun von Valtenstein. By order of Lady Leonora, I've been assigned to lead you."
The training grounds were cleared of snow. Two hundred men had assembled. From the Holy Empire. Defectors who surrendered on the battlefield. Third-rate nobles who had endured countless injustices. Kailun couldn't help feeling a vague kinship with these Holy Empire knights and soldiers who had surrendered to Leonora.
Especially since they were now assigned to serve in the white hell teeming with monsters, it stirred even more solidarity.
"No way... the Mad Dog?"
"Even the Holy Empire's Mad Dog lost to Leonora?"
"What the hell happened in the Holy Empire after we were captured?"
Helian's subordinates murmured, causing a brief commotion. To them, he explained his defection to the Colonial Empire.
"After eight years rolling in the trenches, the damn Holy Empire didn't grant me a single title. In the end, the Imperial Capital's War Council promised a barony and lands... but it was all stolen by the Steel Lorelei and those damn young masters from prestigious families. You've all served long in the Imperial Army—you know it in your bones. The Theodor Holy Empire grants no favors to mongrels without pure blood."
Graces and opportunities reserved solely for pure-bloods. And the injustices and inequalities dumped on mongrels. Consumables. That's all they had been. Consumables exploited to the hilt by the Holy Empire's privileged class.
The two hundred men who arrived at the Colonial Empire's northernmost frontier after accepting Leonora's offer embodied the wretched fate of those consumables.
"Let me ask you this. After years of loyalty to the Holy Empire's pigs, what glory did you gain? I heard from Lady Leonora that the noble pure-blood aristocrats and high knights were ransomed back because the Holy Empire paid a fortune. But you mongrels? Completely abandoned! To those pigs, you were nothing but disposable consumables!"
Helian's subordinates, shipped to the frozen wastes, were little more than living corpses drained of will. Abandoned by their sole pillar, the Holy Empire, and exiled to this distant land—it was natural they'd be engulfed in despair and fear. Troops without purpose were worthless rabble, unable to slay even a single wild beast.
So he forcibly reignited their drive by dragging out the pent-up injustices from their hearts. Swept in boiling rage and hatred, Helian's men clenched their fists, burning with resentment toward the Holy Empire that had discarded them like trash.
"The Holy Empire abandoned you. So abandon it in turn. Me? I'm thinking back to the day I first enlisted... from here on out, I'll grip the sword hilt solely for advancement and desire."
Honor? Justice? That crap never crossed his mind. Why he joined the Imperial Army. Why he spent eight years on the front lines. Why he betrayed the romance fantasy heroine and male leads. To these Holy Empire defectors, he preached raw ambition and self-interest.
It was to expose the ugliness of the Holy Empire, which had demanded unconditional devotion and sacrifice under the guise of honor and justice.
"Let's test your skills. As knights and soldiers of the Yellow Path 12 Palaces, you must be top-notch. Everyone, grab a wooden sword from the training grounds. And swing them with all the resentment and hatred for the Holy Empire that cast you aside."
Steel isn't forged without clashing and hammering. Soldiers were the same. He used hatred as the bellows. The injustices and inequalities from the Holy Empire as anvil and hammer. The knights and soldiers gripped their wooden swords, their morale soaring as they exhaled white breaths and assumed combat stances.
* * *
The frozen lands were like a blast furnace, melting diverse metals into alloys. People of all origins and classes flowed in, standing guard against the world's darkness. Before the murderous cold, all were equal. No inequalities, no favoritism or discrimination existed.
The Edelgard family, overseers of the frozen lands, upheld rational inclusivity, defending the Colonial Empire's northernmost white world. Even long-time enemies from the Holy Empire were embraced. As long as they proved their valor and loyalty to the Colonial Empire and the frozen lands, they could stand as comrades.
"Looks like sparring on the training grounds. Is that your adjutant?"
As she passed the corridor with Nilfheim's officials, the silver-haired beauty halted. Booming shouts. Clashing wooden swords. Hundreds assembled on the grounds erupted in mock battles rivaling real combat. At the center of the fierce melee stood the Holy Empire's Mad Dog, wooden swords raised.
He wielded two against Helian's charging subordinates, felling them one after another.
"His technique is fluid and masterful. As you assessed, milady, he's a monster who's survived countless death lines. And above all... that monstrous strength swinging the hilt. The wind alone from his swings repels knights."
"The Theodor Holy Empire treats weapon mastery and even mana breathing techniques as privileges of the elite, controlling them ruthlessly. Utterly inefficient arrogant greed. For a mere fallen noble like the Mad Dog... he must have surpassed pure-blood nobles through relentless effort."
The elderly knight attending the silver-haired beauty commented while observing the melee. His blood stirred with youthful vigor after ages, exclamations spilling out. He seemed taken with Ericsen. True warriors recognize their own kind swiftly.
Leonora shrugged with a faint smile.
"They'll surely become fine troops for you, milady. This old soldier guarantees it."
"Perhaps we should resume the barbarian subjugation soon."
Barbarians. Savage warriors threatening the Great Wall. Cultists worshiping the world's darkness. One faction behind the murder of the Edelgard family's previous head. Focused on the Holy Empire front, the wall's forces suppressing them had weakened. Cruel and cunning as wolves of the tundra, the barbarians invoked the world's darkness anew, menacing strongholds like Nilfheim.
"New war right after returning from the front... How thrilling. I'd grown bored of the cozy hearth."
"I'm always sorry to you, old man. You keep postponing retirement every year. You've long passed the age."
"Heh heh, you've passed marriageable age yourself, milady."
"......"
Inevitable fate. Leonora replied in a playful tone.
"Milady, Lady Lucien seems about to join. Rare indeed."
"...Rozalin?"
The old knight, fretting over the lady's spinsterhood, expressed surprise while watching the grounds. He'd spotted the one-eyed female knight in black eyepatch grabbing a wooden sword and approaching the Holy Empire's Mad Dog.
Brown hair tied simply. Scarred socket hidden by black patch. Sturdy breastplate etched with winged blade symbolizing the Sword Saint. Rozalin von Lucien. Sword Saint's disciple and Holy Empire's top knight.
Unlike other Holy Empire defectors gradually cooperating with the Colonial Empire, Rozalin had secluded herself, degenerating into a shut-in recluse. For her to break seclusion and appear on the training grounds drew Leonora's intrigued gaze to the duel.