Sovereign Helles Willem mobilized the nation’s manpower, military, wealth, and resources, marching in a grand procession to the Pilater Highlands. There, he erected the Gravel City, a formidable fortress of the Willem Kingdom. Though the immediate cost was staggering, it was a necessary investment against an uncertain future, designed to check the rise and expansion of the barbarians and bring lasting stability to the frontier.

　　In ages past, barbarian conquerors had led their armies into these same highlands, only to dismiss the land with indifference upon finding it could not sustain their herds. Yet, in the areas nearing the mountains, one could still find tribes dwelling upon the slopes. During the fleeting summers, they used ingenious skills to hunt bighorn sheep and crag deer for food, bartering their pelts with the steppe barbarians for meager necessities.

　　Through the influence of trade and military presence, these wasteland peoples learned the art of cultivation. Initially settling near the foothills, they gradually moved down into the plains to lead a settled life. Gravel City flourished as a result, evolving into a true urban center. A hardy crop from Akran proved perfectly suited for this parched environment; its powerful root system could grip the unyielding soil. Though its texture was coarse, it satisfied the local hunger and brought a flicker of vitality to the bleak desolation.

　　The men garrisoned at the fortress served as both farmers and soldiers. Yet, still harboring concerns over the highlands, the Willem Sovereign elevated one royal kinsman and three low-ranking officials and nobles to be the Lords of the Gravel Wasteland, charging them with the perpetual duty of guarding the borders and watching the barbarians.

　　These newly minted lords were profoundly grateful for the Sovereign’s favor. They adopted an open posture, accepting mountain tribes and steppe herders as their subjects. The temperaments of the latter had cooled significantly following the brutal wars; having found stable homes and food on their patrons' lands, they no longer felt the urge to harbor predatory thoughts.

　　These subjects enlisted in their patrons' forces, following Limidian commanders to purge the rampant bandits and ensure the safety of the trade routes. This allowed the people to reliably obtain necessary goods while fostering a sense of discipline and order through combat.

　　Water-storage facilities brought convenience to the public, and the people were eager to answer the lords' call to labor for such improvements. Ramparts and bastions provided security, which the lords—at great expense of labor and gold—extended to the edge of the Great Passage. This ensured that in the event of war, any invading army would find itself at a crippling disadvantage, forced to attack from below against entrenched positions.

　　The tireless efforts of later generations brought material abundance, allowing for the construction of temples, academies, and theaters to cultivate the souls of the subjects and enrich their lives. Small theaters featured not only the plays beloved by Limidians but also tales and legends of the steppes. Barbarian horsemanship and various acrobatics frequently appeared in the great markets and hippodromes.

　　The duty of guarding the Gravel Highlands was originally entrusted to four lords. However, after several upheavals, the lands of the Wessas family were partitioned among Beveris, Korlin, and Bigadi. They traced their lineage back to a common ancestor, Debur Wessas, a courtier whose father and brother had fought alongside the Willem ancestors across countless battlefields before falling in action. Upon reaching manhood, Debur wed a woman of the Willem house, and their prolific descendants brought a bright future and hope to the family.

　　Bill Wessas accepted the King’s heavy mandate to become a Lord of the Gravel Highlands. The royal banner flew high above the towers and ramparts—a mark of the Sovereign’s reward and authorization. Loyalty and sacrifice had always been the principles of the Wessas family, yet his successor, Kasako, brought shame upon their name through involvement in wine smuggling. This wine, common in Scoro, was a rare and coveted luxury in the Gravel Highlands.

　　Kasako was stripped of his rank as lord. The royal crest was replaced by a mere family marker, and the King redistributed the lands among Kasako’s three brothers to continue the duty of guardianship. The Wessas family endured quietly for generations. One branch, lacking a male heir, saw its lands reclaimed by the King, only to have them reassigned during a drunken banquet to a distant descendant of another highland lord.

　　During the reign of Helles Willem, these lords were granted immense autonomy out of a concern for border threats and as a reward for loyalty. However, the indifference and lethargy of later Kings allowed this autonomy to fester into entrenched privilege. Eventually, the local populace obeyed only the laws of the lords, knowing nothing of royal regulations or authority.

　　The palatial residences of the highland lords grew to rival the King’s own court, brazenly usurping the predatory beast motifs exclusively reserved for royalty. Despite the lack of royal oversight, years of careful local management brought prosperity to the borderlands. Within the towering walls, enough supplies were stockpiled to sustain military campaigns against the barbarians—or any other activities conducted under that pretext.

　　Chieftains of the steppe tribes, seduced by the calculated kindness of these highland lords, became their vassals—a relationship that far exceeded their duties as subjects and the boundaries allowed by royal law. In times of peace, they engaged in various labors; in times of war, they rallied under the lords' banners. Though they had acquired skills and a veneer of refinement in civilized society, the fierce and cruel nature of confrontation would still ignite their violent temperaments and predatory ways.

　　King Karinosas would occasionally hear whispers of peril in official petitions, yet his eyes and ears were swiftly clouded by a barrage of flowery rhetoric. In the end, it was the blare of war trumpets that finally jolted him awake, though the ensuing string of defeats brought only humiliation. The people of Scoro were struck with horror to see barbarian banners following the contingents of Limidian lords, crossing the frontier walls of East Town. The fatuous King, trapped amidst the infighting of his courtiers, wavered in agony between negotiation and the use of force.

　　Within the Great Hall of the King, the courtier Kelvin, tasked with oversight, presented a report before the throne. It was this very document—its authenticity highly suspect—that led to Ledamos, the Treasurer, being publicly stripped of his ceremonial robes by guards and shoved out of the hall. The remaining courtiers watched the scene with either paralyzed terror or cold apathy, while some even raised their arms to chant, "Long live the wise King!"

　　Soon after, the blades of the Praetorian Guard fell upon Paranoger and his followers. To prevent any resistance from the Interior Minister, every procedure meant to guarantee rights and justice was reduced to a mere formality. Wilamo, the Commander of the Guard and Paranoger's bitter rival, laid the entire burden of the rebellion at his feet.

　　Ultimately, the disgraced courtier was convicted of treason, paraded through the streets, and executed. Over a dozen officials caught in the purge were likewise subjected to humiliating deaths. The vast wealth that Paranoger and his cohorts had amassed through extortion was summarily confiscated into the treasury by Wilamo. The survivors, trembling with fear, resorted to mutual denunciations simply to save their own skins.

　　In the bloody period that followed, Wilamo’s garrison and court guards patrolled the streets of the capital and the highland avenues night and day. Wherever these warriors made their stand, arrests followed—then imprisonment, exile, or the executioner's block.

　　To facilitate his future designs, Wilamo led a squad of fully armed soldiers into the King’s inner chambers under the pretext of "protecting the throne." The cowardly King and his Queen were relegated to a side wing of the palace, their every movement restricted even by lowly attendants.

　　Yet, this much-maligned Commander of the Guard demonstrated remarkable talent for military command and coordination in the ensuing conflict—a result of his rigorous youth. His family's status had afforded him a fine education, but the physically powerful youth had shown a keener interest in rhetoric and various forms of physical training.

　　To master the former, Wilamo studied grammar and eloquence day and night, enabling himself to use refined and tactful language that could win favor even when it failed to win agreement. His father, Glubis, respected his son's path and, gratified by his diligence, placed him under the tutelage of Delcorens, a master of debate said to possess the wisdom of a god and the tongue of a bird.

　　Upon reaching manhood, Wilamo chose to pursue glory in the military—a rare path for a noble youth in an increasingly decadent age. He mastered an array of weapons and developed unique insights into the art of war, providing the vital support for his future ambitions.

　　However, due to his lineage, Wilamo was soon transferred from the camp back to the court, a move that left the young man’s heart heavy with regret. His impeccable manners and robust physique made a favorable impression on the late King Lurnes Willem, and serving as a palace guard was considered an honor. By the reign of Karinosas Willem, he had risen to command the Capital Guard, thanks largely to the influence and connections of his father, Glubis.

　　Glubis and his legion had been among the forces that propelled Karinosas to the throne. The aged King Lurnes, under duress, had pressed the royal seal upon documents handed to him by Paranoger and Kedamos, agreeing to bestow the crown upon his son—thus sowing the seeds of rebellion. Yet, this indolent ruler brought profit only to himself and no blessing to the people. It was, perhaps, a stroke of poetic justice that the lords of the Pilater Highlands now led an army to topple him from his seat.

　　In the ancient city of Dirdaze, the Commander of the Guard led the royal army and the forces of his supporters to defeat and execute Kem, the defiant Lord of Derbille, erecting an insurmountable barrier against the rebels. Messengers from King Pandir brought good tidings: a newly formed coalition of troops would march through Alonso to support the Limidian King's "righteous cause." Meanwhile, the nomads of the Hulor region and the lords of West Town posed a threat to the rebels' rear.

　　Wilamo dispatched silver-tongued envoys to appear secretly in the tents of the steppe chieftains. In the King's name, they granted amnesty for their past sins and promised them a share of the rebels' spoils. Consequently, the steppe barbarians remained idle during the coming battle, providing an opening for the royal army and the lords' forces. Ironically, these very strategies that saved the day on the battlefield would later be used as evidence of Wilamo's "collusion with foreign enemies" and "rebellion against the King."

　　As the people cheered and offered food and wine to welcome the army, King Willem looked upon Wilamo’s victory at Derbille with eyes of hatred. He signed the list of appointments presented by Wilamo with extreme reluctance. However, had one carefully examined the caliber and virtue of these new officials, it would have been clear that the Commander's actions were not driven solely by personal gain.

　　The fully mobilized Willem army stood ready to cross the frontier, launching an operation intended to tear the rebellion out by its very roots in the Pilater Highlands. Throughout the war, Wilamo used his steady smile and resolute words to dispel the shadows of defeat and bolster morale; his boundless energy and robust physique sustained him through both the complexities of pre-war planning and the mortal perils of the battlefield. Valiant generals remained constantly at the commander’s side, and the lords followed his every word with absolute deference. Though he maintained a simple and austere private life, Wilamo was lavishly generous toward his aides, subordinates, and followers.

　　The highland ramparts, originally built to ward off barbarians, were now turned against the Limidians themselves. After three years of grueling combat—which nearly exhausted the skill of the artisans, the courage of the soldiers, the patience of the generals, and the gold of the treasury—the royal banner was finally planted upon the shattered battlements. The Willem soldiers and their barbarian allies exercised the victor’s prerogative without restraint; slaughter and pillage stained both their honor and their flags. Captured or surrendered rebel soldiers were executed to a man, their bodies piled into grisly towers—a horrific sight that became commonplace across the Gravel Highlands.

　　The fruits of generations of labor crumbled into rubble amidst the persistent looting, and even the dwellings of the gods suffered boorish desecration. Had it not been for the strict orders of the Commander of the Guard, the Temple of Quias would surely have been profaned in every imaginable way. Yet, the Library of Gemetel was reduced to nothingness in a fire that raged for four days. Within that sanctuary of craft and scholarship once sat volumes from both Limidia and foreign lands. Numerous translators, supported by the lords' stipends, had worked tirelessly to render foreign texts into Lier—all to broaden horizons, enrich scholarship, and cultivate the soul.

　　Wilamo attributed the victory to divine protection, the King’s wisdom, and the valor of his men. Yet, as the Commander of the Guard stood at the King’s side with a sword girt at his waist, his conduct—a flagrant breach of courtly etiquette—laid bare his true designs and ambitions. His presence remained a constant thorn in the side of Karinosas, particularly after Wilamo had personally struck down Ledamos in the King's presence, even if that courtier’s corruption and arrogance meant his death was well-deserved. After defeating the lords who had conspired with Ledamos, Wilamo claimed at a victory banquet that his lineage could be traced back to the era of Brill Willem, asserting that his ancestor, Harunmes, had called the late King Brill "Uncle."

　　In light of the current Sovereign having no heir, Wilamo emphasized his own standing through both merit and birth. His utter disregard for the King prompted his subordinates and family to repeatedly warn him to, at the very least, strengthen his personal security to avoid potential dangers. Wilamo remained indifferent, believing that the King’s troops, the Capital Garrison, and the Court Guards all answered to his command. He felt it impossible for them to plot against their patron and commander; to him, they were the very source of his safety.

　　Wilamo traveled through the capital with a minimal escort, and his entries into the palace grew even more brazen, deepening the King’s sense of humiliation. During an ordinary court assembly, he stood beside the King reading various reports. When he mentioned the ruined state of the Gravel Highlands, Karinosas interrupted him, remarking that the nation’s misfortune lay in subjects who defied the Sovereign’s will and failed their duties—those who believed that royal trust granted them the license to act as they pleased without fear of retribution.

　　Wilamo countered with a sharp and direct rebuttal to the King's face: if a subject fails to correct the conduct of his Sovereign, such a display of disloyalty is the true tragedy and misfortune. A King, he implied, should feel nothing but gratitude toward such men.