In Kisor Castle, Zidan stood before his office window, gazing at the northern horizon. Sigret, now part of his growing influence, loomed in the distance as a testament to his rising power. Yet, his mind wasn't occupied with recent victories, but with an old memory, that of Noble Leonac.
Zidan recalled those difficult days, just one year ago, when his father died in the nobles' rebellion. Zidan was a young man, barely eighteen, and suddenly found himself Baron of Kisor, surrounded by doubts and threats. During that period, Baron Sirot, recently killed, threatened Kisor's security and coveted its lands. Amidst that chaos, Noble Leonac, Baron of Lionji, was the only one who extended a helping hand. Leonac sent a company of 150 soldiers to support Zidan's rule and prevent Sirot from invading or threatening Kisor's security. That gesture was a lifeline for the young Zidan, who was struggling to establish himself.
"Uncle Leonac..." Zidan muttered to himself, his eyes fixed on the horizon. "He was an honorable man. He supported me when no one else did. And now, he's been killed, his city destroyed, and his daughter is missing."
Zidan felt a deep sense of responsibility. He had made a promise to Marion to protect Lin and rebuild Lionji. This wasn't just a duty; it was a debt of honor. "I will repay you, Uncle Leonac," Zidan thought to himself. "I will protect your daughter, and I will rebuild your city. Lionji will not die."
Zidan knew that this promise would bring him more enemies and more challenges. But he was ready. He had built Kisor, and he would build Lionji too.
Elsewhere, in the Royal Palace, the atmosphere was charged with a different kind of tension. Prince Geral, Duke of Kirthia, sat in his luxurious office, reading a report about Lionji's fall to the pirates and Viscount Zidan's rise in the north. His eyes narrowed, and his mind worked quickly, connecting the events.
"Lionji... Kisor... Sigret..." Geral muttered to himself, closing his eyes. "The northern strategic triangle. If that noble called Zidan can control this triangle, he will become an unstoppable force. He will desire more rebellion and will pose a direct threat to the throne's authority, and to my own."
Geral saw in Zidan an ambition similar to Duke Frederick's, but Zidan was more cunning and intelligent. Zidan had crushed Sirot and Rick's army with mysterious power and seized Sigret. Now, with Lionji's fall, the path was open for him to control the entire north.
Geral summoned his trusted general, Marioth. Marioth was a man in his fifties, with vast military experience and a face bearing the marks of battles.
"Marioth, what do you think of this situation?" Geral asked, pointing to the report. "This Viscount Zidan is growing stronger by the day. We must stop him."
Marioth pondered for a moment. "My Lord Duke, this noble is dangerous. He has shown unexpected strength. If he controls Lionji, he will have a seaport and complete control of the north. I suggest we send a force of 7,000 fighters to invade Lionji before it falls into Zidan's hands. We will crush any of his forces there and secure the city for ourselves."
"7,000?" Geral said. "That's a large number. And what about my brother Leo? If we decide to invade Lionji, will he intervene against us?"
Marioth smiled slyly. "My Lord Duke, Prince Leo is currently occupied with his battle against the barbarians in the far south of his territory. His forces are exhausted, and he faces significant challenges there. He won't care much about Lionji. He sees the north as just a remote area that doesn't concern him. This is our chance to move without his interference."
Geral was convinced. He knew Leo wouldn't intervene. Leo saw Geral as a rival for the throne, but he saw Zidan as a distant threat not worth his attention.
"Very well, Marioth," Geral said. "Prepare the forces. 7,000 fighters. You will head towards Lionji. Leave nothing for Zidan."
Geral's ambition didn't stop there. He knew that the Royal Duke Elianus, his uncle, had suffered heavy losses in the Battle of Givarri, and his forces were exhausted in the Lighthouse. He saw this as an opportunity to strengthen his position and demonstrate his power to the King.
Geral sent a secret message to his uncle Elianus, offering him help. "My Lord Duke Elianus, I have heard of your suffering. I, Prince Geral, offer you assistance. I will send you reinforcements of approximately 10,000 soldiers to support your forces in the Lighthouse. Together, we will crush Frederick."
In his command tent at the Lighthouse, Royal Duke Elianus read Geral's message. He sat with Richard, his trusted aide, and the rest of his commanders. Elianus smiled calmly, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He knew Geral wasn't doing this out of loyalty, but out of ambition. But he needed the help.
"10,000 soldiers?" Elianus said. "That's a decent number. Geral wants to show his strength and gain a foothold in the north. So be it."
Then Elianus looked at Richard. "Richard, I have another mission for you. This Viscount Zidan in Kisor... he refused our help and insulted our messenger. It's time to teach him some manners."
Richard's eyes widened. "What do you mean, My Lord Duke?"
"Frederick's forces are now quiet after the Battle of Givarri," Elianus said. "He's regrouping. This is our chance. I want you to lead a force of 5,000 soldiers to besiege Kisor. Don't destroy it; just besiege it. Create chaos there. Make Zidan realize there's a price for disloyalty. Make him beg for mercy."
"Besiege Kisor?" Richard said, feeling some tension. He had heard of Zidan's mysterious power.
"Yes. Don't worry about his forces. I heard he has 3,600 soldiers, but they're not well-trained. 5,000 soldiers are enough to cause chaos. I want you to move quickly. Don't let Zidan prepare."
"As you command, My Lord Duke," Richard said, realizing that this mission might be more dangerous than it seemed.
That night, Geral's forces moved. A force of 7,000 soldiers headed towards Lionji, led by General Marioth. And another force, 5,000 strong, headed towards Kisor, led by Lord Richard, from Royal Duke Elianus's camp. These forces moved silently, under the cover of darkness, like ghosts in the night.
But the ghosts of darkness couldn't hide from Zidan's eyes.
In Kisor, in the secret map room, Marion stood before Zidan, his face serious.
"My Lord Baron, I have urgent reports," Marion said, his voice carrying a warning tone. "Duke Geral's forces are moving. A force of 7,000 soldiers is heading towards Lionji, led by General Marioth. And another force, 5,000 strong, is heading towards Kisor, led by Lord Richard, from Royal Duke Elianus's camp."
Zidan was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the map. The entire kingdom was moving against him. Frederick, Geral, Elianus. But he felt no fear. He was ready.
"Let them come," Zidan said in a calm voice, yet carrying an unwavering tone of determination. "Lungi will not fall into Geral's hands. And Kisor will not be besieged. It's time to show our true strength."
The wheels of war had begun to turn faster. Zidan, who saw himself as a guide to justice, now found himself in the heart of a political and military storm, a storm that would determine the fate of the entire Kingdom of Albido.