The Vastness of Magical Destiny

Far away in the Caucasus, Komer was unaware that he had just narrowly escaped another catastrophe. If the St. Vasily cathedral and the Court had truly decided to join forces to eradicate Komer’s influence, even with the significant enhancement of his current strength, facing a united assault from the elite of the cathedral and the Court would leave him with only two options—either to shrink back like a turtle, avoiding any confrontation, or to resist and be utterly annihilated.

Right now, Komer was full of ambition, exerting himself for his next grand plan. The return of Rebry relieved a lot of pressure for him, as the Caucasus-Homer United Mage Group finally had a leader they could trust. Although the mages cultivated in their respective ways, there was still a need for communication and discussion among them, especially for those who practiced dark magic. Each had their specialties, but when it came to improving mana and learning by analogy, there was much to learn from one another, and Rebry was just the person to take on this responsibility.

In fact, the strength of the Mage Corps also provided Komer with a solid backbone of confidence. Be it the Furious Wave Corps, the Rock Corps, or the Homer Knights that Lecler was painstakingly creating, having this formidable force of mages as his core strength made everything relatively easier.

However, all this was still not enough. Komer was aware of the multiple pressures he would face. The Silesian lands of the Ferdinand Family and the Poznan region under the Heine Family had now become huge obstacles in Homer’s expansion. While it wasn’t difficult to deal with these two families, Komer worried they had realized this fact and were deepening their connections. Even more concerning was their attempt to strengthen ties with the Galleians to the west. If the Galleians got involved, Komer’s next steps would become considerably more difficult.

Even if the Galleians did not explicitly join the opposition against him, with the Ferdinand and Heine families, Komer could not afford to overlook this power. Zellin, the old fox, was not like Philip, who failed to see the situation clearly—Zellin was far more cunning and ruthless. It was inevitable that he would stab Komer in the back if he thought Komer’s actions might harm Galle. The Nirvana Knights’ performance last time had proven this.

He needed to avoid being attacked on two fronts but he couldn’t ensure that could be accomplished, so Komer had no choice but to strengthen his own power to mitigate this danger. He aimed to maintain a formidable army to deter the Galleians in the west, so he could engage the Two Great Lords to the north without Galle becoming easily involved or affecting his primary plan. This was the goal Komer sought to achieve.

Before him sat two mountain people with bitter expressions, taking their seats in Komer’s reception room with the determination that they wouldn’t leave until they achieved their goal. It left Komer feeling somewhat helpless, yet also slightly amused.

"Chief Dvanch, Chief Bellamong, I’ve stated my opinion time and again," Komer said. "You want your warriors to return home, and I am opposed to this. I will never casually abandon those mountain warriors who have shed blood and sacrificed for my Caucasus. Unless they voluntarily leave me, the restoration of Homer can be said to have been earned with their lives and honor. What they have now was obtained through their own efforts and struggle. You asking me to issue an order to dissolve their ranks and have them abandon everything to return home, I cannot do it. It is an act of betrayal, and I believe that the honorable mountain people could not do such a thing either."

Hearing Komer’s lofty reasons, Dvanch and Bellamong were at a loss for words to counter his argument. His words seemed logical and coherent, but it was obviously a trap, one that initially had come wrapped in the sweet lure of promises.

Dvanch and Bellamong swore to themselves they would never deal with this man again, that they could no longer trust any of his words. The sweet nothings that once sounded beautiful had now turned into heartbreaking poison. The thousands of mountain warriors had become a weapon in his hand. Such devious tactics were simply too vile, right? But that was the reality. It was utterly wishful thinking for the weak to try to restrain the strong with notions of morality. Even Dvanch and Bellamong were well aware that achieving this was nearly impossible, but to leave in defeat with their tails between their legs was also too much for their pride to bear.