Chapter 70: Agressive Offer
The carriage bearing the insignia of the Northern Sect rolled past the stone slab and entered the Fortress. The vehicle stopped just beside the ⟨Unbroken Fire⟩.
From inside, three people stepped out one by one.
The first was someone Edgar knew. He was the former Builder of the Yamhad Clan, Mord.
Behind him walked a young boy who bore a striking resemblance to the old Builder, likely his son.
The last to step down was a middle-aged man wearing a dark blue robe. A long sword rested calmly at his waist, and his sharp eyes immediately swept across the Fortress.
Edgar walked down from the Fortress Wall and reached them in no time.
Sir Gordon was right behind him with his hand tightly gripping the hilt of his sword.
Folding his arms, Edgar looked at the three of them, who were still looking around the Fortress.
"How can I help you?" Edgar asked, his body relaxed and his voice clear.
The man wearing the blue robe stepped forward and said, "Are you Edgar?"
Edgar didn’t respond and just kept looking at the man, who had an air of arrogance around him.
"He is," Mord said in his stead. "Like I told you, the brat is drunk on his own power."
"Who are you?" Edgar asked, still looking at the man.
His sharp eyes lingered on the young Builder for a moment before he spoke.
"I am Bravi. The Second Elder of the Northern Sect."
His tone carried the confidence of someone accustomed to being respected wherever he went.
Edgar’s expression didn’t change. "...Never heard of you."
"..."
The blue-robed man with short brown hair glared at the blonde boy. "You should be careful how you speak to your elders."
’I don’t give a flying fuck.’ Edgar thought before asking again, "How can I help you?"
This time, Mord walked forward while limping.
"The Northern Sect formally asks you to hand over Hera Yamhad, and in return, we will not kill you."
Edgar’s gaze shifted toward the young lad, whose face immediately showed lust after hearing her name.
"Is he your son?" Edgar asked, not hiding his disgust. "Damn, he is ugly."
’Now I know why Hera hated him so much.’
The young man’s face instantly turned red.
"You—!"
He took a furious step forward before Bravi raised a hand, stopping him.
The young man glared at Edgar with undisguised hatred. "Do you know who you’re talking to?"
Edgar looked him up and down before nodding. "An ugly fuck."
The veins on the young boy’s face bulged as though they were about to burst.
Edgar slowly shifted his gaze back to Bravi.
"I will under no circumstances give away what’s mine."
His voice grew colder. "Now, get out before I throw you out."
"You are making a mistake, boy," Bravi said, holding back his anger. "You have no idea how deep the Northern Sect’s power runs."
Edgar nodded as though he agreed with the comment.
"I probably don’t," he replied. "But that doesn’t mean I can’t deal with it."
The Second Elder, Bravi, let out a soft chuckle and decided to end the negotiations.
He turned and walked back toward his carriage as he spoke loudly.
"The young fool has decided to start a war with the strongest sect in the south over a woman!"
His words were not meant for Edgar but for everyone inside the Fortress to hear.
"You all could have lived normal lives, but he chose to sacrifice you!"
As he entered the carriage, his voice grew softer, but it was still clearly heard in the silence of the Fortress.
"May the Goddess send you all to hell."
He entered the carriage and closed the door while Mord also walked inside.
However, the young lad walked toward Edgar with anger and arrogance written all over his face.
Standing in front of him, he barked,
"My name is Cedric Mord, and I will take everything from you, including that bitch Hera—"
Before his words could even leave his mouth, something invisible slammed into him from the side.
Bang!
Cedric’s body flew several meters through the air before crashing into the side of the carriage with a sickening thud.
Edgar placed his hand over his mouth and said with mock concern, "You should watch your step."
Mord quickly grabbed his unconscious son and glared at Edgar with his one eye.
However, under Bravi’s command, he didn’t do anything and simply carried his fat son into the carriage.
The carriage moved out of the Fortress, leaving silence behind.
Edgar cleared his throat and said loudly,
"The show is over!"
The refugees immediately looked away.
"Get back to work!"
The Fortress instantly became lively once again.
Edgar turned back toward Gordon, who had stood by his side the whole time.
"We have a sect to deal with," Edgar said as though it were a matter of fact. "Mind telling me how wars usually go here?"
Gordon had so many emotions on his face that it was hard to determine what he truly felt.
After letting out a soft sigh, he couldn’t help but mumble,
"Are you really going to fight them?"
"Yes," Edgar replied. "I always planned to bring Soragon Bazaar under my control."
"..."
The veteran knight fell silent.
He had thought the young man was simply refusing to hand Hera over.
He hadn’t expected Edgar to have been planning to oppose the Northern Sect from the very beginning.
After taking a deep breath, he spoke in a soft tone.
"There are usually three types of wars fought in the Roselle Kingdom."
He walked back toward the Fortress Wall while continuing.
"The first type is a single-day war, in which the battle must end before the arrival of the Eternal Night. Needless to say, this is how small sects and clans fight."
"The second type is an elongated war, in which a clan creates temporary ⟨Unbroken Fires⟩ around the enemy Fortress and attacks them relentlessly day and night."
"The third type of war is the most gruesome. In it, a clan uses Nightmares to massacre another clan, including the innocent citizens."
Silence settled between them as they now stood atop the Wall.
After a long moment, Edgar asked, "Which one do you think the Northern Sect will choose?"
Gordon didn’t hesitate. "The second."
He looked at the towering walls around them. "They’ve already seen these defenses."
Edgar rubbed his chin and looked at all the ⟨Watch Towers⟩ on top of the wall.
His expression gradually relaxed.
’If they really try to surround us, they’ll walk straight into a trap.’
Edgar leaned back against the battlement and looked at the young-looking old man.
"By the way," he said. "Do you just swing your sword without any technique?"
Gordon’s brown eyes widened in disbelief.
"You don’t know about the Three Sword Styles?"
Edgar blinked.
"The what?"