Chapter 68 : Chapter 68
Chapter 68: The Sword of Damocles, the Craft of Kingship
The revelry lasted until deep into the night.
The training grounds were a wreck. Fading embers from the bonfires flickered in the night wind, and the air was thick with the smell of ale, roasted meat, and sweat.
Only after the last drunken “beast” had been dragged back to the barracks did the place finally fall quiet.
Caesar stood alone atop the platform. The icy night wind had blown the fumes from his body and restored the depthless calm to his deep violet eyes.
He looked out over the empty grounds and knew that from this night onward, the blade called Black Dragon’s Wing belonged wholly to Caesar.
Its loyalty might still need to be tested in blood, but its edge would now serve him and him alone.
Five figures appeared behind him without making a sound. In perfect unison, they dropped to one knee, not a single footstep audible.
They were his first batch of Squire Knights: Thomas, Peter, Sam, Matthew, and Colin.
After this period of bitter training, their auras were already far more condensed than before. They stood only a single step away from the threshold of true Knight.
“You may rise.”
Caesar did not turn around. His gaze remained fixed on the darkness ahead.
“My lord!”
All five answered at once, their voices steady and strong, utterly unlike the howling of those undisciplined soldiers in Black Dragon’s Wing.
“You all saw today’s battle?”
Caesar asked lightly.
“We did.”
Thomas answered. There was still a trace of lingering fear in his voice, but even more than that, there was relief.
“What do you think?”
The five fell silent.
Only after a long while did Matthew, the least noticeable of them, finally speak. His voice was thin, but unusually clear.
“They were mad, and also… pitiful.”
At last, Caesar turned around and looked at this youngest knight with interest. Matthew had always been the most perceptive of the five.
“Oh? In what way were they pitiful?”
“They were like gamblers who had lost every last chip they owned. Then they borrowed one final stake from you and wagered both their lives and their souls on the promise you held out to them.”
Matthew met Caesar’s gaze without retreating.
“They have no road left to turn back to.”
A glimmer of approval flashed through Caesar’s eyes.
He liked fierce men, but he appreciated minds that could see through appearances even more.
“Whether that promise comes true depends on me.”
He spoke slowly.
“And you are the foundation that guarantees it can.”
He looked at the five before him. These were the men he truly intended to cultivate as his direct core.
Black Dragon’s Wing was his wolf pack. Black Dragon Guard was his shield wall.
And they would be the sword hanging over every head.
“From this night onward, your recruit training is over.”
A sharp light exploded at once in all five pairs of eyes, impossible to conceal.
“Thomas.”
“Your subordinate is here!”
“I order you to select twenty of the most elite and most reliable veterans from Black Dragon Guard and form a night patrol squad.”
Caesar’s voice turned cold.
“From now on, you are not responsible for defending the city, nor will you fight on the front lines.”
“You are my eyes and ears.”
“I want to know everything that happens inside this city, even if it is only who said something they should not have after drinking too much.”
Thomas froze for a moment, then nodded heavily. Excitement burned in his eyes.
This was absolute trust.
“Yes, my lord! I will not fail you!”
Caesar’s gaze shifted to the remaining four.
“Peter, you will take the eastern wall.”
“Sam, the western wall.”
“Colin, the northern wall.”
“Matthew.”
At last, his gaze fell on the youngest knight.
“The southern wall, facing the undead, is yours.”
That appointment startled all five of them.
The southern wall was the most dangerous point and under the greatest pressure, yet it had been handed to Matthew, the least experienced among them?
Even Matthew himself jerked his head up in surprise, but the flash of astonishment in his eyes was quickly replaced by resolve.
He did not ask why. He merely straightened his back and answered loudly:
“Yes, my lord!”
Caesar nodded, very satisfied with their reaction.
That was exactly why he had made so unreasonable an appointment. He wanted everyone to understand that when he chose men, he looked only at ability and loyalty.
He stepped in front of the five and let his gaze pass over their young but resolute faces one by one.
“You five are the first knights I personally raised up.”
“You are the pillars of this city, and the five sharpest swords in my hand.”
“Remember my words.”
Caesar lowered his voice, but it carried an authority that allowed no contradiction.
“Black Dragon’s Wing is my wolf pack, meant to bite people and expend the enemy.”
“They may be mad. They may die. Their lives are cheap.”
“Black Dragon Guard is my shield wall, meant to withstand impact and protect the core.”
“They are the foundation—solid, but cumbersome.”
“And you…”
He lifted a finger and touched it, one by one, to each of their chests.
“You are the Sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of all my enemies, and over our own people as well.”
“You must be fiercer than the wolves, tougher than the shield wall, and more ruthless than I am.”
“What you represent is my will. It is the highest law of this city.”
“Do not disappoint me.”
The five men dropped to one knee again, pressing their right fists tightly against the left side of their chests, over their hearts. With every ounce of strength they possessed, they gave the most solemn and burning oath they had spoken since becoming knights.
“To be our liege’s sword, unto death without hesitation!”
Under the moonlight, the five young knights stood like five silent peaks, guarding the one king they acknowledged.
After they departed, Roland stepped out from the shadows and came to Caesar’s side.
“My lord, your decision tonight… was very clever.”
Roland weighed his words carefully.
“But it is also dangerous. Military discipline is the soul of an army. To pardon a defeated force so easily, and even reward it so lavishly… I fear…”
“I fear they will begin to think failure carries no consequence, is that it?”
Caesar finished the thought for him.
“Yes.”
Roland admitted it frankly.
Caesar let out a soft laugh and turned his head toward the endless darkness beyond the city. In that direction lay Grayrock Town, and beyond it Augustus’s encampment.
“Roland, who do you think our greatest enemy is?”
“Those slow-moving Abominations? Or the necromancers hiding behind them?”
Roland was silent for a moment before answering,
“It is Augustus.”
“Exactly.”
A trace of cold light flashed through Caesar’s eyes.
“A living enemy who thinks, who envies, who schemes, is far more dangerous than a horde of mindless undead.”
“Now then—after today’s defeat, what do you think he will conclude?”
“He will think we are too weak to stand against him. He will think you have been frightened out of your wits, and that will make him careless and arrogant.”
In an instant, Roland understood.
“Precisely.”
Caesar nodded.
“So not only could I not punish them—I had to reward them lavishly. I had to let them revel. I had to let everyone see my stupidity, my incompetence, my uncontrolled fury.”
“I want Augustus’s spies to carry all of that back to him. I want him to believe even more firmly that I am nothing but an inexperienced waste of a young master.”
“The stupidity of those fools in Black Dragon’s Wing, and their disastrous defeat, bought me a precious window of strategic deception.”
“They earned that feast.”
Caesar’s voice held the coldness of someone who saw through everything.
“As for discipline…”
He looked at Roland.
“Starting tomorrow, you will double their training.”
“You will use the most brutal training possible to teach them that today I may reward them with wine, but tomorrow I can take their lives on the training ground.”
“I want them to understand that whatever blood they spill on the battlefield must be repaid with ten times the sweat on the training ground.”
At last, complete understanding dawned in Roland’s eyes.
He bowed deeply. Every trace of doubt in his heart had vanished.
“Your subordinate obeys.”
Caesar said nothing more. He only stood there in silence.
The night wind stirred the black hair across his forehead and exposed those deep violet eyes, as profound as the star-filled sky.
Augustus, do you think you won the first round?
No. The game has only just begun.
And very soon, you will discover that what stands before you is not an enemy you can simply surround and destroy.
What stands before you… is the abyss itself.