Two days ago, Lucas and a few of his subordinate knights had stormed out of Valeran Castle, which was located in Mirin’s capital. They set their course for Fort Efork, located in the northernmost part of Mirin.

Alan Pendragon’s shocking declaration in the imperial castle was true, and his father, Otto, was thinking of going against the empire.

Mirin’s knights and soldiers would unconditionally stand by the side of the margrave and heed his orders, even if fanned them closer to death.

The warriors of Mirin were strong.

They were well-trained, and their skills were honed through battles with various barbarian tribes in the northeast. However, the land would surely be thrown into chaos if a few of the imperial legions were dispatched to Mirin.

Of course, Otto’s dream wasn’t an impossibility. Perhaps the empire would give over control of the plains stretched across the Dolsen River, which could be considered it southern border, to Mirin. Perhaps Mirin would be given independence and its status would be elevated to a kingdom, just like Pendragon.

However, there was a high chance that just the opposite would happen,...