Imperial Calendar Year 537 [Note: 23 years ago, the Imperial Succession War began in this year]

Castile Peninsula, Limestone City, interior of Coliseum.

A twenty-year-old young man was inspecting armor and weapons. The two attendants beside the young man were so anxious that they were sweating profusely, but they could not intervene.

"Message" has no wings or four legs, but nothing can fly farther or run faster than it.

Richard III [Madman] is dead.

Some people say that he died peacefully in his sleep; some people say that he died from falling from a horse and went through a long period of torture before his eyes... But the way the old emperor died is not important, people just use it as a topic of conversation after dinner.

The emperor is dead and a new emperor should be established.

From the Gulf of Cotan in the easternmost part of the empire to the Castile Peninsula in the westernmost part of the empire, from the shady mountains in the southernmost part of the empire to the icy sea in the northernmost part, everyone is waiting with bated breath for the coronation of the new emperor...especially at the same time.

When there are three heirs.

The door was pushed open, and a man dressed as gorgeously as a peacock strode into the room.

The man looked to be in his early thirties, and his appearance and height were three-thirds similar to that of a young man, but he was seven-fold more handsome and four-quarters more dashing.

Seeing the man entering the door, the two attendants grasped at straws and begged with tears: "Your Majesty, Duke Lothair! We really can't stop your majesty, please! Please advise your majesty!"

The handsome man known as [The Duke of Lothair] signaled the attendants to leave the room, and the two attendants bent over and walked backwards as if they had received an amnesty.

The handsome man closed the door, glanced at the lance leaning against the young man's side, then looked at the protective gear that had been arranged on the young man's body, and asked jokingly: "Are you going to play in person? Your Majesty?"

"I am not your Majesty." Only when he was talking to the handsome man, the young man showed a smile and deliberately drawled: "Your Majesty the Duke."

The handsome man shrugged and asked cheerfully: "I'm not a duke either? Your grandpa has a strong body."

The identity of the young man is self-evident - the eldest son of the late emperor, one of the heirs with the right to claim the throne, Henry of Suncastle.

The handsome man is Henry's uncle, Louis, Duke of Lothair, known as "Louis the Handsome". However, privately, people prefer to call him "Louis the wanton".

After a moment of pause, Louis Lothair put away his casual attitude and asked: "Do you really want to play in person?

Henry stood up silently and began to do a simple warm-up.

His body is slender and well-proportioned, and his limbs are strong and elastic. This is a body comparable to that of a top gladiator, the result of years of training.

"Are you really sure?" Little Duke Lothair asked seriously: "Once you step into the arena, there is no room for regret. I don't want to see your mother or my sister sad."

Louis and Henry are less than ten years apart in age and have grown up together. They are uncle and nephew in name, but their actual relationship is closer to friends and brothers.

For Henry, even brothers are no closer than his uncle. Therefore, only Louis can ask these outrageous words, and only Louis can ask them without being outrageous.

"I don't know." Henry replied truthfully: "Because I haven't tried it."

"In that case, why take the risk? Appoint a knight! There are many people willing to appear in your name."

Henry was about to answer when suddenly, a deafening cheer came from above the two of them.

The roaring like a tsunami even shook the walls, and fine dust floated down from the stone dome.

The young Duke of Lothair brushed off the dust on his shoulders and sighed with disdain and helplessness: "Huh, Castile barbarian..."

The magnificent building above the two people's heads is a legacy of the ancient empire. Its original name cannot be verified. Today, people generally call it the "Grand Arena" or "Graystone Arena".

Roughly speaking, the Coliseum has been standing for thousands of years. Because it has been used all the time, it has been well maintained and repaired.

As the only "amphitheatre" capable of accommodating tens of thousands of people, this arena has hosted almost all major public events in the Duchy of Tarlac and even the Castile Peninsula.

Every festival, mass, execution, competition, duel... Nobles and commoners from Gray Rock City, the Duchy of Tarlac and even the entire Castile Peninsula will flock here.

If the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart is the faith center of the Castile Peninsula, and the Prince Regent's Palace is the political center of the Castile Peninsula, then the Arena is the center of glory of the Castile Peninsula.

If you win here, you will win the Castile Peninsula.

However, the thunderous cheers that echoed in the arena at this moment were not dedicated to the royal family, let alone Henry—it was dedicated to Duke Tarlac.

To celebrate the birth of his eldest son, Duke Tarlac spared no expense to hold this grand celebration.

It is undoubtedly a serious offense to make such a fuss during the emperor's mourning period. However, the Castilian nobles have always been known in the empire for their unruly nature, and the royal family's face is worthless to them.

It can even be thought that Duke Tarak deliberately chose this opportunity to celebrate his eldest son's birthday in order to show his contempt for the authority of the Sun Royal Family.

"How many people are in the arena now?" Henry asked thoughtfully.

"At least twenty thousand." Little Duke Lothair replied: "In addition to the lords of Castile, there are many, many civilians... Gray Rock City has almost become an empty city, everyone is here."

Henry heard this and looked up at the dome.

He had a very strange feeling. Although he could only see darkness, he was convinced that on the other side of the thick stone slab, thousands of Castilians were waiting.

Henry closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The young Duke Lothair looked at his nephew who was ten years younger than him and held his breath involuntarily.

"Let's go. I hope others will fight on my behalf..." The future emperor opened his eyes and raised his lance: "It will never be possible to conquer the Castilians."

…

…

Imperial calendar year 560, early February [Note: now]

wilderness

When setting off from Tiefeng County, Winters only brought a small group of troops, less than forty people.

His initial plan was to visit the White Lion and raise a sum of money to relieve Tiefeng County's financial bankruptcy.

But the change was faster than planned. Vashika brought news from Pierre, Balian and others.

So Winters entrusted his men to the little lion, and he and Vashika sneaked into Jiangbei Province under the rule of the military government.

By the time Winters left Jiangbei Province, he already had a huge fleet of more than two hundred people under his command.

It's certainly a good thing to get back the old troops, but Vashika's flattery of "the centurions always gather more and more people" was slapped on the horse's hooves.

After a brief discussion, Winters decided to divide his forces into two groups:

The large army returned to Tiefeng County along the same route with the wounded who were physically disabled - including soldiers injured during the suppression of bandits, as well as veterans who were disabled in the Great Wasteland Battle last year;

The small unit followed the original plan and went to Chihebu accompanied by the little lion.

The small force was led by Winters himself, but Winters was in trouble as to who to appoint to command the larger force.

"What are you looking at me for?" Lieutenant Colonel Moritz said matter-of-factly: "I don't know how to lead troops...Besides, I've always wanted to taste what kumiss tastes like."

"You want to deceive me again." Anna pretended to be angry: "I knew it."

After careful consideration, there is only one suitable candidate left - Pierre Mitchell. There is no doubt that Pierre is an excellent choice, both in terms of status and ability.

But the problem is: Pierre doesn't want to.

"I want to go to Chihebu with you." Pierre requested firmly.

Looking at Pierre's pale cheeks, Winters couldn't bear to let Pierre sleep in the open air with him: "You have just recovered from a serious illness, so you should go back to Tiefeng County to recuperate first."

"I won't hold you back. I can already ride a horse." Pierre tried to straighten his body and suddenly changed the topic: "And I have already thought about who will command the homecoming team in my place."

"Who?" Winters wondered.

"My father." Pierre said seriously.

After a brief consideration, Winters shook his head: "I don't doubt old Mr. Mitchell's ability and prestige. But he won't be relieved if he leaves you alone."

"I'll convince him," Pierre replied firmly.

So a conversation started between father and son.

In a face-to-face equal conversation with no other participants, Pierre finally confided his true thoughts to his father.

"Dad, I know that deep down in your heart you still regard Winters Montagne's troops as rebels and bandits; I also know that you think that one day the Kings Castle will wipe out Winters Montagne; I

I also know that Montagne has no money, no food, no soldiers, and Tiefeng County’s strength is like a puppy and a lion compared to Plato..."

Facing his father's surprised gaze, Pierre said many reasons why "the Montagne bandits must be defeated". If you only listen to this part, it seems that Winters Montagne will be defeated soon, and

Pierre Michel has no doubts.

But in the end, Mr. Mitchell Jr. gave Mr. Mitchell Sr. an irrefutable conclusion: "But we have no way back."

Pierre stared into his father's eyes and repeated word for word: "There is no turning back."

"Do you still remember the story of Dusak, my hometown on the Dunhe River? You told it to me when I was a child. More than a hundred years ago, the Dusaks who broke the shackles rowed small boats and haunted the upper reaches of the Dunhe River, robbing people.

The emperor's official ship. In the end, the emperor was furious and sent troops to encircle and suppress it."

"What happened to those Dusaks back then? The Dusaks who defeated the emperor were canonized as Ataman! What about the Dusaks who couldn't defeat the emperor? They were all killed!"

"If Brother Montagne can hold Tiefeng County, we have a chance to surrender; if Brother Montagne can conquer new land, we have a chance to be re-accepted; but if Brother Montagne loses, loses

, we don’t even have a chance to surrender. All that’s waiting for us is liquidation! All of our heads will be chopped off and replaced with military exploits.”

"So, Dad, no matter you want it or not, no matter what you think." Pierre drove in the last nail with a smile: "We have no way to turn back."

After listening to his son's words, Gilad Mitchell was silent for a long time. When he spoke again, he seemed to have aged ten years.

Old Mitchell said hoarsely: "Even so, you should go back to Wolf Town with me first. You and I have been away from home for so long, and your mother must be looking forward to our return."

"No." Pierre said firmly: "I can't go back now!"
To be continued...