TGS - Chapter 153
Chapter 153: The Sanur Conflict
The wind rose again at the border. The cold air currents from the north were mostly blocked by the Xitings Mountains, but the wind blowing from the highlands where the Sanur lived was still fierce.
The strong wind shook the trees, battered the city walls, and let out a whistling howl.
It also stirred the "offerings" hanging on the city walls.
They were the heads of Solancian warriors, nailed to the city walls. Their disheveled hair drifted like withered grass, and their bloodless faces were pale and bluish.
Arranged in the very center was the head of the city's former administrator, Hephit. Even now, his eyes were not closed, his vacant gaze staring straight ahead.
Inside Digebia City.
Sanur soldiers occasionally marched in formation through the streets, but not a single Solancian could be seen. Every door was tightly shut, though everyone knew this was a futile resistance.
Whenever the Sanur felt like it, they would break down doors, amuse themselves with the homeowners, and then kill them without a second thought.
This was not the first time such acts had occurred. In the two days after Digebia fell, Sanur soldiers had gone door to door, "cleansing" the city, plundering valuables and women who hadn't been hidden in time or had already been concealed.
During that time, rivers of blood flowed through Digebia.
They didn't massacre the entire city, not because the Sanur didn't want to, but because it wasn't necessary. If food became scarce later, the city's original inhabitants would serve as a backup supply—living people were fresher and easier to preserve.
The Sanur patrol passed through the streets.
Unlike their usual arrogant swagger and boisterous laughter, the atmosphere among the patrol was quite somber today.
King Hamonge had been ambushed during a campaign. Gravely wounded, he had breathed his last while being brought back to the city by his confidants.
For the Sanur tribe, his death was far too sudden.
The Sanur system of succession was simple. If there were two or more princes, they would be made to compete against each other in wealth, prestige, the number of warriors under their command, and their own martial prowess.
This competition was meant to take place while their father was still alive to determine the heir in advance. The defeated princes would lose their special privileges and remain in the army as ordinary warriors.
But King Hamonge's death came without warning, and the nine surviving princes had not yet determined a winner.
So who would inherit their father's position? Who would lead the kingdom to continue this war?
These were all unknowns.
The patrol soldiers passed by houses with tightly locked gates, courtyards with blood-stained fences strung with entrails, and the empty Temple of the Moon Goddess.
Finally, they returned to the Lord's Manor to change shifts.
At this time, the nine princes, between whom the atmosphere was tense, were all living in the Lord's Manor.
It was in the Sanur's nature to occupy the best of everything. By that logic, they should have brazenly moved into the Digebia temple. After all, its occupants—including the priests and scribes—had already been dragged out and slaughtered by one of the princes as a credit to his name.
But the Sanur tribe believed in all mysterious powers.
They only believed in the beast-headed gods of their own tribe, which had evolved from their original animal totems. These gods not only represented the beasts that survived on the highland wilderness but were also symbols of spiritual traits.
The Sanur also believed that the gods of other peoples and nations possessed a certain power. Although they were certain their own gods would eventually defeat them, what if they hadn't been defeated yet?
The Digebia temple was dedicated to the god of the moon. The Sanur dared to commit atrocities there during the day, but they would deliberately avoid it at night, let alone live inside it.
Besides the Digebia temple, the Lord's Manor was the largest and most prestigious building in the city. So, the Sanur King had occupied it with his ten sons, using it as their main base in Solancia.
Now, their father was dead, and their youngest brother was also dead.
The nine princes sat in a circle around a round table. The atmosphere was stagnant, and their minds were restless.
The competition had not yet been held, so it was impossible to decide who should inherit the throne.
However, according to tradition, only one person could hold all the power. The defeated princes had to hand over all their subordinates and excess wealth, becoming ordinary warriors themselves.
When their father was alive, everyone was kept in check and had to comply, however unwillingly.
But now, with no one to keep them in line, who would be willing to give up everything they had accumulated? Once the competition began, the situation would only become more chaotic. It wasn't impossible that it would devolve into the other eight ganging up on the winner, followed by a free-for-all among themselves.
Even so, a leader still had to be chosen. Otherwise, if the Seaton army attacked, the Sanur would not even have a unified commander. They would probably be worse off than when the tribes were scattered.
According to the personal guards who brought back their father's body, the commander at Seaton was the Solancian Princess...
The princes were traumatized by her to varying degrees, but on this matter, they could reach a consensus:
Bewilderment, resistance, a fear they didn't want to admit, and a hatred so deep they wished they could devour her flesh.
You're a princess in name, a ruler in practice. Why not stay properly in the royal city and wait for news from the border? Why did you have to come out and fight?
Fine, you came. But you arrived so silently. The news that the Princess was leading troops to reinforce Seaton arrived along with their father's body. Who wouldn't have a mental breakdown in that situation?
Oh, right. And their youngest, most inexperienced brother—it seemed Alyuin had killed him too.
Silence. Silence was the Sanur royal family tonight.
Finally, one of the princes spoke.
Hamonge's ten sons were close in age, as if they'd been born in a cluster. The eldest among them was not yet thirty.
"I know what everyone is thinking, but now is absolutely not the time for infighting," the eldest prince said. "We followed our father to unite the wolf and eagle tribes, bringing the bull, sheep, and wild fox under our banner. We are brothers and comrades-in-arms. Are we going to be suspicious of each other like this, let the Solancian Princess laugh at us, and hand her victory so easily?"
"Eldest brother is right. Our tribe's warriors are ready to trample the lands of Solancia. Our chances of victory are high. If we fight amongst ourselves, it will all be over—"
"Who knows? I don't want to worry about all that. I just want to fight."
"In any case, we can't let the Solancian Princess get off easy. She killed our father!"
As the princes argued back and forth, it's unknown who was the first to say, "Easy for you to say. Who will lead the tribe? In any case, I won't give up easily."
A sudden silence fell around the round table, then it was as if a pot had exploded. Every prince began to state their position on the issue. It was clear that no one wanted to give up; they would rather compete.
However, if they lost the competition, would they really be willing to hand over their power according to the rules?
The eldest prince slapped the table, signaling for his younger brothers to be quiet before saying, "I will command."
The sounds of argument grew louder:
"On what grounds—"
"We might as well compete first!"
The eldest prince was unmoved. "Hear me out. I will command the battle against Solancia. We must first unite as one."
"After we defeat the Solancians and kill their princess, you can compete against each other. I will voluntarily withdraw from the competition and unconditionally hand over my power to the winner."
"Eldest brother, are you joking?"
"I am serious. I swear by the name of the Wolf God Huracan, I will not break my promise!"
The princes were stunned by their brother who was voluntarily giving up his right of succession. They looked at each other for a moment and all thought this method was not bad.
If there were any other way, who would want to kill each other right now?
Especially in the current situation, only by reaching an agreement could they stabilize things. If Alyuin took advantage of the chaos to defeat them, it would truly be better to just hand over all their accumulated power to a winner.
Thus, the princes all expressed their agreement—at least on the surface.
The somber atmosphere returned to normal. The turbulent undercurrents lessened, and they began to listen to the eldest prince's arrangements.
Behind an inconspicuous side door, a small, thin figure pulled their ear away from the door.
She straightened up and stood there blankly for a moment.
"Hey, what are you doing standing there?"
A patrolling Sanur guard spotted her and shouted harshly.
His companion curled his lip. "No need to make a fuss. She probably came here looking for food. I don't know what the person watching her is doing. Haven't they given her any food?"
"Hurry up, come with me!"
This last sentence was directed at the small figure.
She nodded silently and followed the soldier away.
The wind passed over Digebia City and continued to batter another city's walls.
Separated by a hill, Seaton City and the occupied Digebia faced each other from a distance.
The Sanur camp on the hillside had been completely cleared out, torn tent fabrics fluttering in the wind. The defenders of Seaton City even had the leisure to search the small hill, hoping to find any items left behind that could be counted as spoils of war.
Unfortunately, either the enemy had taken everything useful back with them, or the Sanur were simply so poor they didn't have many useful things to begin with.
In any case, they returned disappointed.
Alyuin sat before the window, sealing a reply to be sent to the royal city.
Since she had led her troops to the border, the daily affairs of Akhet were entrusted to two trustworthy ministers—one from the old nobility and the other from the pragmatist faction. The temple priests had the right to participate, and Motis was there to keep things in order.
In the short term, the royal city would be fine, but they would be relatively passive in the face of unexpected situations.
Relaying important matters to the Princess was an essential step.
The golden eagle sisters were well-suited for this job. They were quite familiar with Motis, the Captain of the Royal Guard, and could carry messages back and forth, much faster than a mounted courier.
This time, Lotus beckoned the golden eagle over and tied another sealed letter to its slender leg.
"This one is for Rhea," Lotus said. "Don't get them mixed up, and don't let anyone else see it."
The golden eagle's eyes darted, and it ruffled its feathers, clearly confident in its ability to complete the mission.
Alyuin looked at Lotus, turning her head a little quickly, causing a few strands of black hair by her cheek to sway gently.
"For Rhea..."
"You have something you need her for?"
Lotus applied divine power to the seal. If anyone other than the little priestess tried to open the envelope, they would find it impossible to succeed.
After doing this, Lotus said, "Yes, there are some things that require her participation."
Alyuin's hand paused. Her golden eyes narrowed slightly, making the corners of her eyes appear even more slender.
Without directly asking what it was about, the Princess suppressed the various thoughts that instantly arose. "Can I help?"
Lotus looked at the map in front of Alyuin, which was covered in circles and dots.
"In fact, you're already helping."
Alyuin: "?"
Just then, there were three knocks on the door, followed by a royal guard's report from outside:
"Your Majesty, the patrol cavalry outside the city caught a woman. She says she has something to tell us, but she insists on seeing you before she'll say anything."
The guard's voice held a note of hesitation. "Judging by her attire, she seems to be a Sanur."
Comments
Post a Comment