Chapter 103 – The Barons' Roar
The ink on the parchment of alliance between Eisenwald, Kessler, and Mühlberg was barely dry when the news already raced across the frontier. Merchants, couriers, even spies all carried the same whispers:
"Baron Fenrir Eisenwald now has allies. Two neighboring barons have bound themselves to him in trade and mutual defense."
The tidings struck the borderlands like a hammer. Eisenwald, once just a swamp-ridden stain on the map, now commanded attention. With Falkenrath's steel, Eisenwald's grain, and two new allies feeding his markets, Fenrir had transformed a backwater into a rising hub. What was once dismissed as a marshland barony was suddenly at the heart of frontier politics.
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High on a craggy hill stood the grim keep of Baron Hohenberg. That night, torches burned hot in the great hall, shadows of armored men stretching long across stone walls. The four restless barons had gathered.
Baron Hohenberg, scarred face, scarred heart, fists like hammers, sat at the head.
Baron Falkenhain, tall, broad, silver-haired with a giant axe leaning on his shoulder.
Baron Altenburg, thin and sly, lips curved in a permanent mocking smile.
Baron Drachenfels, the youngest, fiery eyes full of unchecked ambition.
The crackle of the central bonfire mingled with the slam of Hohenberg's gauntlet against the oak table.
"That brat…" Hohenberg growled, voice low and venomous. "To bind two barons to him already? Does Eisenwald think itself equal to us?"
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Falkenhain's rumble followed, deep as a landslide.
"This is an insult. That swamp should've been ours to carve. Instead, the boy builds power from it."
Altenburg chuckled softly, eyes gleaming.
"Don't be so quick to sneer. He caught our spies, did he not? That alone marks him more dangerous than we thought. The merchants whisper his market thrives, that steel from Falkenrath is being forged into weapons. He is not just a boy."
Drachenfels slammed his hand on the table, youthful face ablaze.
"Then we act now! Strike before he grows further. Together we muster fifteen thousand—twice what Eisenwald could ever field! We burn the swamp to ash before the Crimson Wolf bares more fangs!"
Falkenhain sneered down at him.
"You're reckless. If we strike now, the realm will think us afraid of a boy. Better to wait, let him strut and boast, let him believe himself untouchable. Then we cut him down when pride blinds him."
Altenburg shook his head slowly.
"Wait, and we lose the initiative. He already has two barons. Who's next? If another joins him, we will find ourselves encircled."
The hall fell into tense silence, broken only by the spitting of the bonfire.
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Hohenberg's scarred lips curled into a wolfish grin.
"You all make fair points. But one thing is certain: Fenrir Eisenwald must not be allowed to grow unchecked."
He rose, towering above them, voice booming across the hall.
"Let the boy savor his little victories. Let him play lordling in the mud. For every step he takes, our eyes will watch. And when the time is right…" His hand curled into a fist, knuckles whitening, "…I will rip the wolf's head from his shoulders and mount it on my gate."
Dark laughter filled the chamber, echoing off the stone. Yet beneath the sound lingered unease. They all knew Eisenwald was no longer a forgotten swamp—it was becoming a threat.
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Far away, Eisenwald was cloaked in a calmer night. The air carried faint murmurs of the market, still alive even after sundown. Merchants chattered of new prosperity, villagers spoke with pride in their baron. Hope flickered where despair had once reigned.
On the balcony of the Eisenwald manor, Fenrir Eisenwald stood, silver moonlight carving his profile sharp against the darkness. Beside him, armored and vigilant, stood Kael Morgenstern, the wandering knight who had bent his knee after their duel.
Kael's deep voice broke the stillness, low and steady.
"They will not sit idle, my lord. You have shaken them. Their retaliation will come."
Fenrir glanced sidelong, a faint smile curving his lips.
"Let them. A hungry wolf does not chase blindly—it waits. And when the prey finally leaves cover… it strikes, fast and merciless."
His crimson eyes gleamed beneath the pale moon. Somewhere beyond that horizon, in the halls of his enemies, barons already plotted. But Fenrir—he was not afraid. He was waiting.
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> [Quest Update]
Shadows of the Border
– Spies neutralized (✔)
– Military strengthened to 10,500 (✔ Completed in Ch. 99)
– Expand diplomatic alliances (✔)
New Objective: Prepare for confrontation with hostile barons.
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Fenrir leaned forward on the balcony railing, voice a low whisper lost to the night wind.
"Let the barons roar all they wish. When the Crimson Wolf howls, their walls will crumble."
The torchlight below flickered over the loyal soldiers drilling in the courtyard, over blacksmiths hammering Falkenrath steel into new blades, over the shadows of Eisenwald swelling in strength.
And the moon bore silent witness to a predator who was no longer hidden in the marsh, but ready to claim the frontier.
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