Chapter 268: [268] Cunning That Forsook The World (1)

The Donia aligned army set out early in the morning, long before the sun had kissed the skies, long before the birds shook off the cold to take flight.

They trodden through the unforgiving Thalikan plans, through thick snow that went up to their ankles, and the unforgiving cold that grasped at their heels.

All for the sake of a war that was lost the moment it began. Fools, the lot of them.

Lord Baldwin was not a fool. He was the illegitimate son of a common whore, a disregarded child whom most would not even bat an eye at.

But he had something others did not, the blood of the lord running through his veins, and a cruel cunning that surpassed even the sharpest of swords, or the most sturdy shield.

He snaked his way into his fathers estate, bowed so low to his brothers that he kissed the floor, did unspeakable things when he discovered his sister’s sick feelings for him...

And when he had managed to convince them all that he was no better than a slave boy, a tool to be used and discarded, he stuck a knife in the backs of his brothers and sisters.

Those that were kind to him... those who hated him... their children who could barely speak, his sister who loved him... it did not matter who.

In the space of one week, he sat in his father’s chair, a crown neatly placed atop his head, while the castle overflowed with rivers of scarlet, and wails that he could still hear up to today.

For the sake of survival, Baldwin would do anything. Or so he thought... times had changed, and time had not been the kindest to him.

That sharp cunning he always revered? It had been dulled by none other than a common miller’s girl, with a countenance so soft that it straightened the jagged edges of his mind.

He was a knife, and she was wool, what then could he do to but be swallowed in her warmth?

His cold ideals melted when she had his first child, even more so when his daughter called him by his name.

It had been that way for years. But now, that version of him had risen once more, only for a different reason. The will to protect.

Baldwin’s fingers tightened on the reins of his horse as he steered it forward. He was no fool, he preyed on folly, that was why he could see folly coming from ten thousand miles away.

And this was folly...

Fighting against the undead was folly, thinking they could win was folly.

Once the plague of the undead consumes the south, and cleaves through the capital, his region would be next, those horrid creatures would swallow them whole.

So as despicable as it was, Baldwin made a deal... a deal with the dead.

To preserve his family, he sold out his nation, to keep their smiles, he cursed others to lose theirs.

’No...!’ Baldwin hissed at his own self. Those people, they were doomed to die from the very beginning. Deal or no deal, they would have met the same fate.

This was not on him, their deaths, it was not his fault...

Maybe if he repeated that in his mind for an eternity, his sins would fade, just like the screams of his sister had begun to fade.

These days, he only saw her in his dreams...

"My lord—"

Baldwin jolted as he was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts. His face was pale, and a cold chill slipped down his spine as the world spread out before him.

It was noon, the marching had stopped, and everyone was going about, performing one task or the other.

The fire mages were melting the ice to provide water for the horses, the infantry were stretching their legs, the scouts on wyverns were landing to rest.

"My lord, are you alright?" A man asked. He was dressed in an ornate steel armour, the symbol of his region etched on his chest.

He was the commanding general of Baldwin’s troops, as well as his closest confidant, his brother from a different father.

Baldwin let out a breath, the air steamy as it curled in the air, before vanishing into nothing.

"I am fine." He said plainly.

The general nodded and glanced at the eastern part of the forest. "Will you be visiting them again?"

Baldwin tilted his head down, it was barely a nod. Seth’s face hardened. He had been against it from the start, he never trusted the undead, but he had followed Baldwin nevertheless.

He would march down to hell if he commanded it.

"May our ancestors be with you my lord." Seth bowed as walked away from his path.

Baldwin almost laughed. What ancestors? The ones who weep for their children? The children he killed?

He branched off from the army, his horse trodding through the snow, and towards the dark forest, a look of conviction burned into his brown eyes.

Superstition, another folly of mankind, one that had been preyed on for a millennia. He shook his head.

’Best not to keep him waiting...’

<•••>

Lord Baldwin had successfully distanced himself from the army contingent, his excuse being that he was going on a solitary walk.

It was not hard to believe, a lot of knights and lords often went out during breaks as well, a little peace was needed when you could be marching towards your death.

He was just at the border of the forest, when an animated voice reached his ears.

He turned around and nearly fell off his horse. Waving at him as he rode towards his direction was none other than Lord Eliron, the elven lord!

How had he come so close without sensing him?! Baldwin had turned around multiple times to make sure he was not being followed, how then did he get this close?

A darkness nestled within him as his hands twitched at the hilt of his blade. ’Does he know?’

No... it was not possible. There was no way to link anything that had happened to him, his name was clear.

Baldwin’s face became a mask of joy. "Ahh, lord Eliron!" He chuckled. "What do I owe the sudden visit?"

Eliron strode up to him. "Haha. Are you saying I cannot visit a comrade?"

He shook his head and laughed even louder. "Of course not, we are all friends here. But how did you know I was out here, if you don’t mind asking." He quickly said.

"Oh that?" He waved his hand in the air. "I paid your people a visit, and my, my, you have a lot of beauties at your camp, my lord. One would think you hand picked them..." He said with humor in his voice.

Baldwin’s expression faltered with displeasure, but before he could speak, Eliron placed a hand on his shoulder as his horse stepped up to him.

"Ahh, don’t get the wrong idea my dear lord. We are both men, are we not, have you seen my party?" He winked.

Baldwin recalled the elven lords party, remembering how there was just a single man, while the rest of them were beauties beyond compare.

His eyes widened. How had he not seen it all this time? Every man had a weakness that could be exploited, and for him, it was women!

Then the reason he is here...

Baldwin could not hide the smile that came out.

... The Elven lord had likely seen a woman that interested him from Baldwin’s camp, he likely wanted his help with getting her.

"Oh, and forgive me for my rudeness at the meeting." Lord Eliron clasped his hands together. "I had to show off a little, you know?"

A shallow apology, just like the man he was.

Baldwin remembered the incident quite well. He had insulted the elven lord, called them

half-ear, the worst of racial slurs.

And yet, he was apologising just so that he could have a new woman warm his bed? These snow laden lands did wonders to men.

Baldwin felt sick to his stomach. It was disgusting, a man should stick to one, love only one... but it was an opportunity.

"There should be no quarrel between us my lord!"

He would change their route, instead of meeting the undead, he would have a casual stroll with the elven lord.

Then when they got back, Baldwin would supply him with the prettiest knights and mages in his army. And with their help, they would gather the deepest secrets of the elven lord.

Baldwin snickered in his mind.

They would be bound like glue, and having the strongest person in the camp as ally would naturally avert all suspicion from him.

Up until the appointed time... the day the kingdom was soaked in blood and fire.

"So?" Baldwin’s bounced his brows. "Which of them do you like?"

The elven lord’s voice dropped low. "You know, I have a thing for red heads, the icier the woman is, the better."

Lord Baldwin roared with laughter. "I understand! So you’re that type of man eh?"

They had gone deeper into the forest now, enjoying the serene atmosphere, and breathtaking views.

Eliron smirked. "I knew you would understand my dear friend. After all..." his voice dropped to an icy tone.

"...you seem to have a thing for the undead."

Baldwin stopped dead in his tracks, and then slowly, as though time had frozen stiff— he turned to glance at Eliron, only to meet the elven lord’s cold smile.

"W-what..." The words were heavy on his tongue. "What d-did you mean by that?"