When Blake appeared unannounced before General Celt once again, the old soldier's expression turned distinctly complicated.
"I must admit, you've given me quite a shock, Mr. Blake," Celt said with a bitter laugh, rising to his feet and shrugging helplessly. He stared at Blake, at a loss for words. Of course Celt had heard the news of the Knights of the Apocalypse's return to the continent. He had suspected the young man might have an impressive background, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined it would be this formidable. The Knights of the Apocalypse—they were easily the most untouchable force on the entire continent.
"I fail to see what's so surprising about it," Blake replied, shaking his head. He pointed out the window to the right flank of the fortress, where a triangular flag fluttered gently in the wind.
"Ah…" Celt's weathered cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It was true—ever since Blake had arrived at the fortress, he had been flying that flag. But Celt and his men had paid it no mind. After all, the Knights of the Apocalypse were a forbidden topic on the continent, rarely spoken of aloud. So they had never made the connection, until the news broke and left them all stunned.
"But I didn't come here to discuss flags," Blake said, clearly uninterested in lingering on the subject. He glanced at the maps spread across the desk and asked, "What are the Sith Empire's recent movements?"
"They've begun to consolidate their defenses," Celt answered, a hint of relief finally crossing his face. He reached out and pointed to the side of the border belonging to the Kingdom of Olut. "According to our latest intelligence, the Sith have withdrawn their two frontline legions. The Puppeteer's and Wind Messenger's forces remain stationed in place, taking no action. I think… perhaps war can be avoided."
"Oh? And where exactly are they stationed?" Blake followed Celt's gesture, his eyebrows lifting slightly before a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "They're playing this very cleverly."
"What do you mean by that, Mr. Blake?"
"It's obvious they have a commander with a sound head on his shoulders," Blake waved a hand, gesturing toward the Sith encampment. "He's clearly assessed the situation and realized that a direct confrontation with me would be suicidal… but this stalemate won't last forever. He's waiting for an opportunity."
"What opportunity?"
"The Knights of the Apocalypse can't remain garrisoned at Crimson Fortress indefinitely."
At that very moment, inside the Sith military camp, a magical projection of Lindilot appeared, her expression resolute as she addressed the generals gathered before her. This meeting included not just Sidvi and Karan, but also all their senior officers—a sign of how critical this situation was for the Sith Empire.
"If that Sir Blake had never revealed his identity, we would truly be in grave danger," Lindilot explained. "But by doing so, he has laid his cards on the table. The Knights of the Apocalypse are, first and foremost, an independent faction, owing allegiance to no nation. No matter what their true purpose is in returning to the continent this time, he cannot afford to stay here indefinitely. And from what we've gathered in our investigations, this man clearly has no sense of loyalty or affection for the Kingdom of Wester. The fact that he chose to distance himself from Wester just as our empire launched its invasion is highly suspicious. Therefore, I believe… Sir Blake has no intention of leading his knights to garrison Crimson Fortress permanently!"
"But Your Highness," one general spoke up quickly, voicing the question on everyone's mind, "according to our intelligence, Ophelia—the former First Princess of Wester—is now serving as Sir Blake's adjutant in the Knights of the Apocalypse. She was once a princess of Wester, after all. Can she really stand idly by while her homeland is under attack?"
"I've looked into that as well," Lindilot nodded gently. "It's certainly a possibility. But as we all know, Princess Ophelia was declared dead thirty years ago, supposedly in an accident. Now it seems that Wester V was behind her 'death.' While I cannot claim to know the princess's true character, the fact that she holds the position of adjutant to Sir Blake yet has made no move to claim the throne that rightfully belongs to her is highly suspicious. Given the current situation, Princess Ophelia still commands great popular support in Wester—seizing the throne should be well within her grasp. Yet she has chosen not to do so… I believe there are deeper reasons at play here."
Lindilot's tone grew solemn as she continued, "I will send envoys to negotiate with them and see if there is any room for compromise. Until then, all units are to remain in their current positions. Your mission will be temporarily shifted to maintaining local order and constructing border defenses. I want all of you to be prepared—this 'temporary' assignment may last a very long time. A year, two years, even three or four. But make no mistake—our ultimate goal remains unchanged."
"I have a question, Your Highness Lindilot," a voice called out from the ranks. The generals murmured among themselves, clearly uneasy. They had hoped for a swift end to the war, allowing them to return to their peaceful lives. Lindilot's orders had left them restless. Sidvi, surprisingly, did not resort to violence. Instead, she cast a cold glance over the assembled officers and let out a sharp snort—her disapproval of the arrangement was plain to see. Then, another general stepped forward, summoning his courage to raise his hand.
"What is your question?" Lindilot asked.
"Forgive me for speaking out of turn… but we have already annexed the Kingdom of Olut and gained control of such vast territories. Now we face the threat of the Knights of the Apocalypse. So… why can't we simply halt our military campaigns here? Why not focus on governing the lands we already possess? After all, the Knights of the Apocalypse are a terrifying force…"
The general's voice trailed off as Sidvi's gaze locked onto him. Though her eyes were hidden behind a blindfold, he could feel a bone-chilling coldness and killing intent washing over him, forcing him to swallow the rest of his words.
Even so, his suggestion resonated with many of the officers, who nodded in agreement before turning their eyes to Princess Lindilot. To voice such doubts now might have seemed like cowardice before battle, and any other commander would have flown into a rage and shouted them down. But Lindilot was known for her gentle temperament, and in her presence, even the most rigid soldiers felt comfortable speaking their minds.
"I understand your concerns perfectly," Lindilot said, her warm smile never fading, though a faint shadow of worry clouded her delicate features. "But the situation is not as simple as it seems… I will do my best to convey your opinions to my father. I too hope that the Sith Empire can bring an end to this war and return to a state of peace soon."
She scanned the room once more and asked, "Are there any other questions?"
The generals shook their heads, saying nothing more. Now that the decision had been made, they had no choice but to follow orders.
"Then this meeting is adjourned."
The magical projection dissolved into a shower of sparkling light, vanishing into the air.
Lindilot looked away from the crystal ball and let out a long sigh. She frowned, lost in thought for a moment, then rose to her feet and exited the communication room, walking down the long, pristine corridor. She stopped in front of a massive, imposing door, hesitated for a moment, then knocked softly.
A deep, resonant voice boomed from inside. "Who is it?"
"Father, it's me—Lindilot."
"Enter."
At his words, Lindilot carefully adjusted her robes and hair before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
It was a most peculiar room. Every surface was pure white, devoid of any decorations. The walls and ceiling fit together seamlessly, with not a single crack to be seen, as if the entire space had been carved from a single block of stone. In the exact center of the room sat an elderly man—the Emperor of the Sith Empire.
Judging by his appearance, the emperor was around sixty years old. His hair and beard were snow-white, but his imposing stature and sharp, vibrant features made him seem far younger than his years. He wore a suit of finely crafted steel armor paired with a jet-black cloak, which only enhanced his aura of authority. The air of arrogance about him was enough to make anyone tremble with fear. At that moment, he sat atop the only stone chair in the room, his eyes closed as if deep in thought.
Lindilot quietly closed the door behind her, walked to his side, and knelt on one knee. "I apologize for disturbing you during your busy schedule, Father…"
"What is the situation?" the emperor asked without opening his eyes.
"It's not good…" Lindilot hesitated for a moment before replying softly. She lifted her head to meet her father's gaze. "Most of the generals are growing anxious over the news of the Knights of the Apocalypse's return. They believe the empire should halt all military operations for the time being and focus on addressing internal issues."
"Do you share their opinion?" The emperor still did not open his eyes, continuing his line of questioning. Lindilot nodded gently.
"Yes, Father. I do. Thanks to our efforts, the war has not yet had a negative impact on domestic production and daily life. But I believe that reckless and aggressive military campaigns will only plant the seeds of instability. Therefore, I also hope that we can temporarily suspend further hostilities."
"Suspend hostilities?"
"Yes, Father. As you know, the entire continent is watching our every move. I believe this is a time for caution."
Lindilot spoke the truth. Ever since Blake had announced the return of the Knights of the Apocalypse, countless nations had been watching from the sidelines. They knew the Knights were currently aiding Wester in defending Crimson Fortress—if the Sith Empire launched an attack, they would inevitably be forced to confront the Knights head-on.
This was a scenario every nation secretly hoped for. After all, despite the Knights' fearsome reputation, they had vanished without a trace for seventy years. No one knew if they still possessed the terrifying power to destroy a nation with a snap of their fingers. Of course, no country was foolish enough to test this directly—but the Sith Empire was the perfect pawn. Many nations were even secretly praying for a war between the Sith and the Knights. If the Sith suffered a crushing defeat, it would prove the Knights were still as fearsome as history had recorded, and everyone would learn to tread carefully. But if the gap in power was not as vast as feared, it would mean the Knights were not invincible… and the entire continent could breathe a collective sigh of relief.
As long as their own people were not dying, these nations could not have cared less.
What was more, according to historical records, the Knights of the Apocalypse had always targeted the most powerful nations on the continent. While the Sith Empire's territory was not the largest, its military might was unrivaled—four Gifted Knights, a sight unseen in any other kingdom.
For this reason, rumors were already spreading that the Sith Empire was the true target of the Knights' return this time!
"Knights of the Apocalypse… Hmph! Knights of the Apocalypse!!" The emperor repeated the name coldly, then slammed his fist down on the armrest of his chair.
*BOOM!*
A deafening roar echoed through the chamber. Lindilot bowed her head, daring not to glance at her father—she knew this was the sign of his utmost fury.
"They are nothing but a bunch of upstarts! What is there to fear?!" The emperor suddenly waved a hand dismissively. "The imperial conquest will not be halted by such trivial matters! Lindilot! My orders have never changed—the Sith Empire will conquer this entire continent! Any obstacle in our path will be crushed! Any obstacle!"
"But Father… we have no clear understanding of the Knights' true strength. Acting rashly will only lead to dangerous and unpredictable consequences." Lindilot looked up quickly, her voice soft but urgent as she tried to reason with him.
"The Knights of the Apocalypse are beneath my notice!" The emperor let out a cold snort. "If they choose not to stand in my way, they may do as they please. But if they dare to block my path to glory, I will teach them a lesson in who truly rules this continent!"
"Father, we know nothing about the Knights of the Apocalypse's current capabilities," Lindilot persisted in her efforts to dissuade him. "History tells us they possess the power to destroy entire nations. If your judgment is wrong, the Sith Empire will be annihilated!!"
"Then so be it!" The emperor remained completely unmoved. He suddenly opened his eyes, and an aura of unparalleled dominance blazed within them. "If the Sith cannot rise to rule the world, then it deserves to be destroyed! There is no third option, Lindilot. Do as I command! The Sith Empire's march forward will never stop!"
"…Yes, Father." Lindilot's expression fell. She rose to her feet, bowed respectfully to the emperor, then turned and left the room, her steps heavy with resignation.
Outside the door, Lindilot's face was filled with sorrow and gravity. She thought for a long moment, then sighed softly. She walked out of the palace and waved to summon her personal guards. "Prepare my horse. I'm heading to the frontlines at once. Also, send a message to Shirley—tell her to gather all my forces and rendezvous with me at Crimson Fortress immediately."
"At once, Your Highness!" The guards saluted and hurried off to carry out her orders. Lindilot sighed again, her brow furrowed as she gazed up at the sky.
Dark clouds loomed overhead, heavy with the promise of storm.
If she could not stop her father, then she would have to find her own way to protect the empire as best she could.
Lindilot had no idea that, at that very moment, inside the room she had just left, the Sith Emperor had risen to his feet. A confident smile spread across his face, and in his hand, a sword of pure, gleaming white had materialized out of thin air.
"Knights of the Apocalypse…" The emperor stared at the white sword in his hand, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. "Blake, Charlotte, Judy… Excellent, excellent. So it is the Knights of the Apocalypse after all. Long time no see. I've been waiting for you. It seems you've finally crawled out of your rat hole. Using this entire nation as bait was indeed a masterstroke. My patience has finally paid off."
He raised the sword high and swung it down with all his might. A brilliant white light erupted from the blade, slicing a deep gash into the stone floor!
"Come, then! If you dare to stand in my way again, to interfere with my father's legacy… then this time, I will finish what he started. Once and for all."