Chapter 11

The rise and fall of the highway through the shallow valleys led them on towards the next ridge. As they crested over the hills, the same vista of orchards, vineyards and the multitude of villages that tended to them stretched out as they had since their entry into Corelyn County. This next valley they entered, however, was distinctly different.

It was vast – considerably wider than the valleys that they had crossed before – spanning as far as the eye could see. The border range to the west that had been a constant companion to their journey north tapered off, its forested slopes diminishing until a mighty river cut through them from beyond. Its broad course meandered across the pastoral panorama, disappearing into the east.

Marcus’ eyes followed the line of the road as it descended towards the river, spotting the bridge that would convey them across the waters. Looking down from the top of the valley, it was hard to tell how large the river was, but the relative size of the villages that dotted its banks suggested that it was well over a kilometre wide.

From their vantage, they could see a distant town arrayed behind some sort of wide fortification. Like the towns they had passed through, it was constructed from white limestone, shining brightly in the afternoon sun. The bridge led into a gatehouse near the midpoint of the walls.

Beyond the town, on a broad rise that dominated the surrounding landscape, another set of walls shimmered in the warmth of the afternoon.

“Brother Marcus,” Alessia exclaimed, “is this…?”

“It should be the Katze River Valley,” Marcus said. “The walls up on that ridge must be E-Rantel.”

The driver nodded in affirmation to his words. Alessia swept her olive-eyed gaze across the valley in wonder.

“Hehh...this is the river of the dead?” She said, “It is most strange to see the surrounding lands so lush and green.”

“Well, the river we know is long lifeless after flowing through the whole of the Katze Plains. This is before it enters the cursed lands, so it makes sense that it is so, yes?”

“I have only been up to the estuary on shore patrol…” Alessia murmured. “Witnessing this is both uplifting and sad at the same time.”

Marcus was forced to agree. The lower reaches of the Katze River were a lost part of the Theocracy that should have been as lush and vibrant as this place: an idyllic home for millions of Humans. Instead, the river was devoid of life, and all attempts at cleansing away the negative energies suffusing the area met with failure.

Even in the narrow stretch of fertile territory south of the cursed wasteland, where the river’s estuary flowed out into the sea, no one dared to drink its waters or make attempts to cultivate the soil. The breathtaking vista before them was a bitter reminder of what perpetually remained out of their grasp.

“Driver, the town on the river is Corelyn Harbour?”

The answer was obvious, but Marcus spoke anyway to fill the silence.

“That’s right,” the driver replied. “As you can see, the town’s still got that new look to it, but it’s shaping up to be a pretty nice place. The fortress on that island is the seat of House Corelyn.”

“E-Rantel looks more than a day distant,” Alessia peered past the harbour at the northern horizon, “will we be stopping in Corelyn Harbour tonight?”

“Those are my orders,” the driver nodded. “This’ll be the last stop for these wagons. We’ll be storing your things in the harbour town, and you’ll be making your final preparations there before riding to E-Rantel with your group in the morning.”

“Will we see this Countess Corelyn here?”

“I don’t know, but it’s unlikely.” The driver replied, “The nobles of the Sorcerous Kingdom are very busy people. You’re more likely to see them in itinerant courts than in their halls at home. Well, who knows – maybe you’ll see the Countess around town performing some kinda inspection…probably not a good idea to bother her, though.”

The idea of encountering a High Noble randomly in the street felt entirely unrealistic to Marcus, but Alessia’s eyes brightened at the prospect. Usually, such distinguished persons did not mingle with the common folk and were accompanied by expansive retinues. It wasn’t just a matter of social standing, but one of security as well. In the Theocracy, veteran Paladins sometimes provided an escort for important people, but it appeared to be entirely unnecessary here. As temple staff, they probably wouldn’t be interacting with the nobles of a secular state.

Hours passed as they continued their way down into the valley, and evening fell upon them by the time they arrived at the bridge. Marcus’ gaze sharpened as the figures of the distant sentries resolved into something recognizable. Under the alternating banners of the Sorcerous Kingdom and House Corelyn, Humans were only a fraction of those present.

At the head of the bridge, arranged in columns on either side of the highway, stood a dozen monstrously powerful Undead encased in spiked plate armour. Veins of red pulsed over gleaming black metal, giving the impression of blood vessels glowing crimson in the waning light.

The intermittent chatter of the Paladin contingent had ceased long before they came near. Leather reins creaked as gauntleted hands tightened their grip, and the sound of nervous warhorses occasionally rose over the wind.

“Death Knights,” Marcus breathed.

“Eh? They are…?” Alessia stood up to get a clearer look at them, “I-I guess so, but they are not as large as I thought they would be. The lectures describe them as fearsome and legendary Undead, but these are smaller than the Demihumans out east.”

Out of the various powerful Undead that could come out of the Katze Plains, Death Knights were one of the most problematic. Intercepting them was a priority. One was not a threat if contained, but if it broke through the border uncontested, the countryside would be filled with thousands of zombies inside of a day.

Everyone stationed in Altamura knew them by description, and some had personally encountered them. A solitary Death Knight was spotted on one of Marcus’ patrols nearly two decades ago, and it was a memory that he wouldn’t ever forget. Upon detecting it, their best scout had been left behind to stealthily monitor the threat while the rest of them retreated to a point well out of its notice.

The Message that they sent out received a response within minutes: a youthful-looking woman, whose hair was divided into dark and light parts, was teleported to the patrol’s location. They led her back to where the scout was waiting and, seemingly without a care, she walked out into the mist and destroyed the Death Knight in the time it took Marcus to blink. The woman returned to them with a yawn and a bored expression. It was then that he realized what it truly meant to manifest the true potential of divine blood.

“Hmm…so if those are Death Knights,” Alessia kept looking around, “the ones posted along the bridge are Death Warriors? And the ones riding the Soul Eaters are Death Cavaliers? Oh, there are some Elder Liches flying around too.”

Marcus stood up on the wagon bed – Alessia’s observations demanded that he see what she described with his own eyes. Surely enough, they were there. Stationed under every set of banners along the bridge were Death Warriors. Pairs of Death Cavaliers patrolled its length astride Soul Eaters. Once in a while, an Elder Lich flew along the course of the river and under the bridge.

The power to devastate a major nation was guarding a single bridge. Granted, it was an important bridge, but even so, Marcus decided that there should be limits for the sake of one’s sanity.

As they rolled onto the bridge and the fortress loomed ahead, he wondered what lurked within. Its walls rested upon a long strip of rocky land that provided a natural barrier for the harbour on the north bank of the river. From the southern end of the bridge, the looming walls already gave the appearance of an imposing obstacle for any attackers.

Though he harboured no hostile intentions, Marcus’ experience on multiple campaigns had him trying to figure out how one might go about attacking it. Constructing rafts to cross the river and assault the walls was out of the question. The distance between the southern bank and the island was far too great for siege engines or magic casters – only powerful Rangers with equally powerful equipment might be able to reach the walls.

The Elder Liches flying around dismissed any notion that they did not consider their aerial defences. Flight magic was limited and defenders on the walls would make short work out of any such assaults. Considering the Elder Liches that patrolled over the river, he supposed that they would primarily use arcane casters instead of divine casters like the Theocracy, but the result would be the same.

Utilizing water breathing spells to facilitate attacks using the river as cover also seemed futile, as any number of Undead defenders were probably stationed underwater. The castle controlled a massive drawbridge, so storming the main gate would lead to a dead end. Any siege engines placed on the bridge were exposed and vulnerable to attacks from the air and the walls.

In the end, Marcus decided that a crossing would have to be made somewhere else along the river. Establishing a foothold on the north shore with the Theocracy’s regular army demanded control of both the river and the air above it, and he was dubious over the possibility that this could be achieved.

It would have to be a clandestine assault with a group of combatants in the Realm of Heroes. He continued to consider this assault until he imagined said heroes being thwarted by wagons transporting grapes. No, not even a force of heroic individuals would work.

Their regular army stood no chance, and even a handpicked group of powerful people would most likely lead to failure. The mightiest forces of the Theocracy would need to be deployed to take Corelyn Harbour…but if a harbour town took that much, how hard would it be to take E-Rantel? For that matter, was it even possible to take Corelyn Harbour if it was being reinforced by the nearby city?

Marcus supposed that this overwhelming strategic position was a deterrent in itself. If a veteran Paladin of the Slane Theocracy considered the challenge all but impossible, he imagined that any other nation in the region would similarly throw up their hands at the futility of it all. It was a textbook example of achieving peace through strength – but from where did all this strength appear?

The most popular theory, at least in Altamura, was that the Sorcerer King was a powerful Undead being that hailed from the ruined metropolis deep within the Katze Plains. The Undead observed in the Sorcerous Kingdom thus far were all roughly as strong as those that could appear there, which supported this speculation. The general notion was that the Sorcerer King had gathered his forces over a long period of time and finally struck out when he was well and ready.

As Katze was once a fertile and productive territory settled by Humanity, perhaps the Sorcerer King was once a Human himself: a great magic caster who had succumbed to the same curse that fell upon his land. With the most recent skirmish between Re-Estize and Baharuth – which had resulted in the appearance of the Sorcerous Kingdom – the Sorcerer King presented claims that the lands around E-Rantel were his, so it made a sort of sense. It would also go far in explaining why the population was left in apparent peace rather than slaughtered wholesale if he considered them his rightful subjects.

The sound of the wagon’s wheels crossing onto the drawbridge turned his attention to the imposing gatehouse. They passed through its multiple doors and portcullises and into a huge space enclosed by walls on all sides. The highway ran through to the northern side. Other gates could be seen to the west and east, and the walls all around were bare save for the gatehouse in each wall.

A killing field.

This was the first thought that entered his mind. If by some miracle an army stormed the bridge and broke through the gate, they would enter an area where the defenders could rain death upon them from all sides. They could even be allowed entry on purpose, and their only avenue of escape denied them. When enough soldiers spilt in…

Marcus gave his head a shake and shuddered. Whoever had designed this place was not someone he would ever want to face in a siege. In a conventional conflict, hundreds of thousands of the Theocracy’s soldiers could be thrown at this place and still not make it past its second layer of defence – probably not even the first.

Surely it couldn’t be the same noblewoman who managed such an idyllic territory. This citadel of unyielding violence stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the pastoral surroundings.

“This fortress,” Alessia noted, “it appears to be many times harder to take than Altamura.”

“You make it sound like you have a way,” Marcus snorted.

“Hmm…I do not know how the defenders would respond, but there is a place to easily make a dam upriver. Build it high enough, and the river will do all the work when it is unleashed.”

“You investigated the Sorcerous Kingdom before we came?”

“Of course!” Alessia said, “Knowing as much as possible before coming here felt prudent, so I took a leave of absence to study in Kami Miyako when I first received the summons.”

“No wonder I have not seen you around recently…still, your plan will probably only damage these fortifications. It is also likely that the bridge will be destroyed, which gains the attackers nothing.”

“This place is impossible to take without ridiculous losses, so denying it to the defenders serves just as well. If it destroys so many of these,” her hand gestured loosely at the Undead that could be seen in every direction, “then it is even better. According to the maps, there is an easier way in, anyway.”

The driver made a derisive noise at her confident statement.

“What?” Alessia frowned at the noise.

“The ‘easier way in’ you’re talking about,” the driver said, “is it the upper reaches?”

“Yes, just so,” Alessia nodded.

“No one in their right mind would think that it’s easier to invade through there.”

“Why is that?”

“Because that’s where House Zahradnik is. No one has ever successfully invaded through the upper reaches for as long as they’ve been there, and now they have the power of the Sorcerous Kingdom backing them up. You’d have better luck here…though that part of the river you’re probably thinking of building a dam at is also Zahradnik territory.”

“Why does everyone keep exalting the nobles here?” Alessia pouted, “even the Priestess at the border had nothing but good things to say about Corelyn.”

“Because the signs that come with a capable noble are easy to recognize,” the driver replied, “especially when you’re looking up from below. This is especially the case in the Sorcerous Kingdom, where criminals and other shady sorts can’t sink their claws into the authorities. There are no excuses for the nobility to hide behind – their results are proof of their ability, clear for all to see.”

It sounded something like an ideal scenario for those nations where order reigned. The Theocracy was one such nation, but even after centuries of building its strength and shaping its culture, a constant effort was still required to root out corruption and immoral behaviours.

“Then are all the nobles so excellent?” Marcus asked, and Alessia plopped back to her seat.

“They’re a mixed bag,” the driver answered, “but the Royal Court holds them to strict standards. The central administration also offers assistance that makes even an average noble’s management here seem good in comparison to the nobles of other countries.”

“I see…then those four you mentioned: they have taken advantage of this assistance as well?”

“I did say House Corelyn and House Zahradnik were the first to employ it, but those four in Corelyn’s group are genuinely talented in their own right. It’s scary to think of what might happen if they put their heads together to do something.”