The Way of Knight
Chapter 31 – Rise of the Marsh Baron
Four years had passed since the day Eisenwald, a miserable swamp on the fringes of the Luminaria Empire, had been shaken by its first war. Back then, Fenrir was only thirteen—a boy forced to take up the sword and lead a ragtag militia to protect his home.
Now, he stood tall at seventeen years old, clad in a black mantle embroidered with the crest of a wolf. His gaze was sharp, his boyhood innocence long gone. The aura that once flickered faintly now blazed crimson, dense and heavy like molten lava, pulsing with every breath he took.
Today would be remembered by the people of Eisenwald as the day their young lord was formally crowned Baron of Eisenwald.
---
The hall of Eisenwald was no grand palace like those of powerful nobles. Its walls were rough stone, the ceiling low, and the floor plain wood, polished as best it could be. Yet today, the hall was filled with the people of Eisenwald—farmers, craftsmen, militiamen, even the village elders.
At the seat of honor sat Celdric Eisenwald, the former baron. His once-dark hair had turned white, his skin pale, and his body frail. Illness and hardship had carved years into him that his age alone could not explain.
Beside him stood Elena, Fenrir's mother, dressed in a modest dark-blue gown. Her gentle eyes shimmered with pride and worry alike as she watched her son step forward.
Celdric struggled to rise, his cane trembling in his grip. His voice rasped as he spoke:
"From this day forth… I, Celdric Eisenwald, relinquish the title and lands of Eisenwald… to my son, Fenrir. May he rule with greater wisdom than his father."
Fenrir stepped forward and knelt before him. The Eisenwald family blade—an old sword with humble engravings—was laid upon his shoulder.
"With this sword," Celdric declared, "you are now Baron of Eisenwald. Lead your people, defend this land, and prove that the blood of Eisenwald still runs strong."
A roar of cheers erupted. The people called out Fenrir's name. His crimson lava aura flared, filling the hall, silencing them in awe—not out of fear, but reverence.
Fenrir rose, raising the sword high.
"I, Fenrir Eisenwald, swear this! Our land will no longer be looked down upon. Eisenwald will rise, and any who dare to take from us… will be destroyed!"
The cheers shook the very walls of the humble hall.
---
That night, after the celebration ended and the villagers returned to their homes, Fenrir stood on the balcony of the manor's upper floor. From there he could see the marsh stretching into the horizon.
The view had changed drastically.
Once, Eisenwald was nothing but stagnant mud, choking miasma, and wasted soil. Now, thanks to the canals dug through sweat and steel, fertile marsh-rice fields spread across the lowlands. Fishponds dotted the villages, bringing both food and trade. Parts of the swamp had been cleared, replaced with timber roads connecting settlements.
The population of Eisenwald had doubled. They no longer merely survived—they built. And all of this was because a boy of thirteen once decided not to bow his head.
Fenrir gripped the railing, his eyes narrowing.
"Four years… and this is only the beginning. The outside world will not let us be. Every success breeds envy and greed. But if I don't challenge it, how can I ever reach my dream—to sit on the throne of emperors?"
Visions of battle flashed through his mind: banners in the wind, steel clashing, blood and fire consuming the battlefield.
His crimson aura flickered, radiating heat that warped the air. It pulsed like magma beneath the earth, eager to burst forth.
---
The next day, Fenrir visited his father's chamber. Celdric lay in bed, breath ragged but eyes still sharp with spirit.
"Fenrir," he said weakly, "you've taken everything upon your shoulders now. But listen well… the world of nobles is not only about swords. It is about land, taxes, politics… and sometimes betrayal."
Fenrir nodded.
"I know, Father. I've seen it already in the councils of minor lords. They mock us, call our swamp worthless. But that is our strength. None of them believe a swamp can rise."
Celdric gave a faint smile.
"You're right… Eisenwald must be the wolf of the marsh. Silent in the fog… but when it strikes, none can escape."
Elena entered with a bowl of warm porridge for her husband. Her eyes fell on Fenrir, tender and full of pride.
"You've grown into a leader, Fenrir. But don't forget—your people are your family. They trust you. Never betray that trust."
Fenrir bowed his head.
"I will protect them, Mother. With my life."
---
A few days later, Fenrir gathered his captains in the training grounds. Once, they had been mere farmers clutching crude spears. Now, after four years of discipline and drills, the Eisenwald Militia had transformed.
Two hundred men stood in formation, divided into squads. They carried forged steel spears, bows, and a handful wielded swords. They were still no match for the elite armies of great lords, but under Fenrir's hand, they were wolves of the marsh—feral, unpredictable, lethal.
"From this day forward," Fenrir addressed them, "we are no longer peasants who only endure. We are a force that will protect—and expand—Eisenwald! Remember this: the swamp is our fortress. The fog is our ally. And I am the sword that leads you."
A cheer erupted, shaking the ground. His crimson aura enveloped them, burning their spirits brighter, as though lending them strength beyond their own.
---
The System Reacts
That night, as Fenrir laid his sword upon the table, the long-silent chime returned within his mind.
[DING!]
🔻 [System Update] 🔻
Because Fenrir Eisenwald has officially become Baron, his status has been updated.
---
[Fenrir's Status – Age 17, Beginning of Arc 2]
Name: Fenrir Eisenwald
Title: Baron of Eisenwald, Wolf of the Marshes
Age: 17
Level: 12
EXP: 11,500 / 16.000
Aura: 145 (Crimson Lava – dense, throbbing like molten magma)
Stamina: 119
Strength: 98
Cunning: 115
Charisma: 99
Mental Fortitude: 123
Skills:
[Aura Control Lv.3] – Aura can be condensed, creating burning slashes.
[Swordsmanship Lv.3] – Aggressive combat style fully integrated with aura.
[Leadership Lv.4] – +25% morale to troops, able to command larger units.
[Tactical Instinct Lv.3] – Adaptable, able to read major battles.
[Marsh Warfare] (Unique Skill) – Units fighting in swamp terrain gain +30% mobility & morale.
Traits:
[Wounds That Shape] – Battle trauma permanently increases Mental Fortitude.
[Wolf's Charisma] – Easier to inspire loyalty from soldiers and common folk.
Active Quests:
1. [Defend Eisenwald] – Protect the land from greedy neighboring barons.
2. [Expand Territory] – Seize your first enemy barony through war.
3. [Path to the Throne] (Hidden) – ???
---
Fenrir read the panel, a thin smile curling on his lips.
"So this is the first step… from a swamp baron… to an emperor."
The fire of lava burned bright in his eyes.
---
#wanD48