The calculating Dumel people had already laid their plans far in advance. When the Chieftain of the Korza summoned his tribal nobility to devise a counter-strategy, he found that these men had already accepted lavish bribes from the Bolsei. With a shocking unanimity, they voiced their opposition to the Chieftain, blinded by the fleeting pleasure of their gifts and utterly indifferent to the future of their tribe, or the dignity of their leader.

　　In a fit of impotent rage, the Korza Chieftain lashed out with reckless words, a mistake that ended with him and his family perishing under a rain of arrows. The neighboring Chieftain of the Nazigu, paralyzed by shock and fear, chose the path of silent submission. By quietly accepting the "gifts," he effectively accepted the vassalage of the Bolsei. Having seized control of the grasslands without shedding a drop of blood, and emboldened by his Dumel connections, the Bolsei Chieftain grandly proclaimed that he had forged a firm and unbreakable alliance with the Northern Basin.

　　Meanwhile, the Count of Dumel had long since seen his authority carved up by his three brothers, leaving him with nothing but the hollow trappings of rank. These brothers wielded absolute civil and military power within their respective fiefs, dispensing life and death according to their own whims. The senile Count remained content with their nominal obedience, his actual reach extending no further than the walls of his capital and his own manor.

　　The three brothers not only held the Count in contempt but also eyed each other with restless suspicion. One among them, Pirdi, felt the prickle of threats from every side. Controlling neither the southern passes nor the landward fortresses, he was confined to a southwestern corner where the flat borders offered no natural defense. His retainers, disguised in shadows, attempted to forge a clandestine bond with the Tartars of the steppe. It seemed as though the calamities of the past were destined to repeat themselves.

　　However, Pirdi’s machinations were uncovered, drawing the swords of his two brothers upon him. He and his family fled in disgrace to the capital, reduced to begging for clean food and water at the Count’s doorstep. Yet even then, Demons and Lorpe fell into renewed conflict, unable to agree on how to divide the spoils of the land. The feeble King Pandir sat idly by, watching the Dumel fratricide unfold, allowing the fires of confrontation to burn ever hotter.

　　The people of the steppe might have lived a life far removed from the world's strife, but the arrogant and ambitious Bolsei Chieftain insisted on bartering with the Limidians. With ill intent, he dispatched an envoy to propose a marriage alliance with the Frontier Alliance.

　　The tribal messenger appeared at the Lord’s manor with practiced humility, his submissive words striking a chord of warmth and cordiality. However, once all preparations were in place, the West Town lords learned to their shock that the engagement had been unilaterally canceled. The Chieftain’s envoy stood before the Lord and insolently declared that they owed allegiance only to Karsain, and would accept the banners and seals of vassalage from no hand other than that of the "Satra" soldier himself.

　　The Alliance suppressed its fury and stayed its hand. Once they had fully gauged the situation, the lords of the West Town issued a strict ban, forbidding the export of iron and cloth across the border. The former struck at the nomads' military readiness; the latter inflicted a staggering economic blow, as the local merchants had long reaped enormous profits by reselling these goods for essential supplies. Even so, the Bolsei Chieftain turned a deaf ear to the voice of reason.

　　The vigilant Governor of the Mud City signaled the various fortresses to muster and prepare for battle. In the heat of the ensuing clash, the Bolsei’s "allies" turned their cloaks. For the vainglorious Bolsei, the battle was a humiliating disaster that stripped them of every shred of dignity. The Bolsei Chieftain himself vanished during the carnage, leaving his tribe to the mercy of their victorious foes and the turncoat allies.

　　High-born prisoners were paraded through the capitals of the Frontier Alliance, and the Korza nobles became the living trophies of the victory. The sheltered Dumel people were hunted down. Under the watchful eyes of the Limidian army, the remaining tribesmen, after a period of chaotic bickering, elected a new Chieftain. The Frontier Alliance then lifted the trade ban, allowing commerce to breathe once more.

　　Though this battle was but one of many Limidian victories, for Count Demno, it was the victory that allowed him to peacefully entrust the throne to his successor.

　　The Count’s relentless struggle had left his heir a prosperous domain and a cohesive alliance. Like all rulers, Demno had heard a lifetime of both blunt truths and hollow flattery, yet he had always grounded his decisions in the public good, remaining wise and cautious. Nevertheless, the "Karsain Affair" haunted him. In a fit of superstitious dread, Demno even blamed the premature death of his eldest son on the karmic retribution for his fratricidal strife.

　　Thus, in his final hours, Demno committed the heavy burden of the lordship to Bird. This brother had been living a life of constant terror on the lands of the purged rebels; had it not been for the companionship and counsel of his wife, Drestya, he likely would have perished of a broken spirit or disease long ago.

　　In Demno’s eyes, Bird was not only weak in character but also frail in body—a man with no political network who would pose no threat to the power and status of the Crown Prince. Ironically, this fulfilled the old vision of their father, Glader: that all three of his sons would one day be lords of Delone.

　　During their exile, Drestya had conceived and given birth to a baby boy, bringing a flicker of solace and joy to Bird. The couple poured all they had into their son, Situs, finding a measure of happiness in their simple life. When Bird received the Lord’s summons, he mistook it for his final death warrant. He wept as he bid a heart-wrenching farewell to his family, only to be left utterly bewildered by the reality that awaited him.

　　Demno gazed upon his trembling brother with a gaze of profound gentleness; it was only when a reassured smile finally broke across the Lord’s face that the suffocating tension in the room began to thaw. The two brothers inquired after each other’s lives as if trying to mend the frayed threads of a long-lost fraternal bond. Yet, the warmth was fleeting. The scene quickly regained its solemnity as the Lord informed Bird that he was to shoulder the heavy mantle of sovereignty—on the non-negotiable condition that he accept his nephew as the Crown Prince.

　　Bird bowed to the dying wish of his sovereign and brother, but his wife, Drestya, was a woman of voracious ambition. Her husband’s inherent weakness served only to provide a broader stage for her own forceful nature. Having already given birth to their son, Situs, Drestya was determined to carve out a magnificent future for her own bloodline.

　　During his years of exile, Bird had leaned on her as his sole emotional anchor; now, as a Lord, he could finally bask in a life of material opulence. Still, he felt a lingering sense of inadequacy, which he sought to compensate for through a reckless indulgence—a desperate way to repay his gratitude and apologies to his wife. While Bird’s devotion was a tool she could easily wield, the politically isolated Drestya knew that to truly seize power, she would have to rely on the Corit family to bolster her cause.

　　The Corits, a house of modest standing, had previously been tainted by the Karsain affair. Though they had escaped execution through the Lord’s mercy, they remained frozen out by Demno and shunned by other nobles for their past as informants.

　　Initially, Bird followed his nephew’s counsel, adopting a policy of meritocracy. He pardoned those ensnared in the Karsain scandal, allowing their sons to serve in civil offices or the military. Under the protecting wing of the new Countess, these men felt as though they had been granted a second life.

　　However, though Bird wore the crown, the actual gears of Delone’s civil and military administration remained in the hands of Casalens, supported by a circle of vigilant and cautious courtiers. Consequently, Bird dared not offend these venerable elders, nor did he wish to spark a direct confrontation with his nephew.

　　Suri and Tiralner had been entrusted by the dying Demno to ensure the stability of the realm. The former was a valiant and loyal commander whose military genius was the bedrock of wartime victory and daily security; the latter, born of a high noble house, possessed both virtue and immense learning, alongside a vast network of influence.

　　In private, however, Bird’s indulgence and frail character made him easy prey for his wife’s machinations. Will Corit, the Countess’s eldest brother, was elevated to a high position without a whisper of resistance. Emboldened, Drestya began to whisper a daring thought into Bird’s ear: to distance himself from Casalens and let the unranked, inexperienced Situs take his nephew's place.

　　Situs, a pampered youth, had shown his true colors during the Spring Festival. Standing behind his mother, he grumbled incessantly, complaining that the mud of the earth soiled his fine shoes and that the rough carriage rails chafed his palms. Later, during the sacred ceremony, he had the audacity to stumble over the prayers, yet he maintained an air of utter indifference afterward.

　　His behavior sparked the righteous fury of the High Priest, Riddel. Ignoring Bird’s embarrassment and Drestya’s mounting resentment, the priest insisted that Situs recite the prayers again with proper reverence. Nursing a bitter grudge, the Countess began plotting to exile this venerable High Priest to some far-flung corner of the world.

　　The learned High Priest was a master of both sacred and secular knowledge, often invited to lecture on theology in temples across the Frontier or to debate classics and herbalism with local scholars. As his fame soared, Riddel was invited by the Crown Prince to Hedlim. For the following month, he consulted with humble and passionate colleagues on theological nuances, lectured the Prince on divine theory, and participated in the Grand Sacrifice at the Pantheon.

　　Riddel’s brilliance was the fruit of a life spent in deep thought and keen observation, born of a chance encounter in his youth. He had once accompanied his mother to the temple in the capital of Delone to pray for his elder sister’s upcoming marriage. There, the young man was captivated by a statue of a goddess that blended aesthetic beauty with divine faith, leading him to dedicate his life to the exploration of the divine. Though his father had hoped his youngest son would win glory through the sword, he eventually yielded to his wife’s persuasion.

　　Riddel, despite his high station, believed that a world must exist beyond the divine, just as an endless sea lies to the east of Scrolo; he saw that vast spaces could dwell within the most inconspicuous things, much like a beetle’s nest hidden inside a withered log. Thus, he argued that what men understand is but a narrow, limited sliver of reality. Regarding the world beyond that sliver, he warned against proclaiming it either rational or absurd—to do so was the height of arrogance and ignorance, a path that inevitably leads to disaster.

　　It was for this reason that Tel Delinos, a man revered by the Limidians for his profound virtue and vast knowledge, always considered himself ignorant and incapable, refusing to leave behind a single book or written work.

　　Under the High Priest’s call, his clerical colleagues ceased their hollow disputes. Previously, the monks had engaged in preposterous quarrels over the nature of divinity and the boundary between gods and men. Deriel, the High Priest (also known as Riddel), was further inspired to believe that divinity is boundless, and that the "God" the pious serve is but a single facet of a grander spirit. It is through this limited facet that fragile humanity is allowed to survive and flourish.

　　In his conversations with the Count of Delone, Deriel was even more blunt: Scrolo is not as vast as one thinks, nor are the Lord’s subjects as small as they seem. Compared to the myriad worlds, Scrolo is not even a small stream; only the arrogant believe they have conquered the entire world. This was a subtle hint for the Count to remain humble. He further implied that the lives of the subjects are multifaceted and not nearly as simple as they appear from a throne, urging the Count to treat his people with kindness.

　　On the eve of his departure for exile, peers and friends came to bid him farewell, lamenting that his boldness had brought this calamity upon him. But Riddel remained serene, believing his conduct had never betrayed his inner conscience or the divine will. He told them calmly that there is no feast that does not end; one can only hope that the beautiful days might last a little longer. Finally, with a smile, he bid them all goodbye.

　　The pious commoners had already lined the roads, sighing with regret as they paid their respects and sent blessings to the kind High Priest. Even Casalens, the Crown Prince, appeared in the crowd to bow respectfully to the departing sage.

　　This display only fueled the Countess’s hatred; she burned with a desire to see everyone who had seen him off put to death. However, Drestya feared inciting a violent backlash, especially as the Alliance partners were incessantly sending high-ranking envoys to inquire about the situation. This pressure eventually forced Bird to issue the order recalling Riddel from exile.

　　In the aftermath, Drestya sought to bring her weak husband entirely under her thumb. To this end, she introduced fawning sycophants and masters of "curious arts" to Bird’s circle—men whose skills catered to the Lord’s personal whims but contributed nothing to the governance of the realm. Sheltered by the Countess, these men amassed wealth and status, unknowingly setting themselves against the very fabric of the state.

　　Most loathsome of all were the informants. Masters of fabrication, they had once stirred up trouble for Karsain’s private gain; after being purged by Demno, they were now sprouting anew under Drestya’s protection.

　　However, Situs’s own arrogance and contempt for others eventually brought humiliation upon himself and disaster upon his parents. During a polo match, after losing a point, he publicly insulted his elder cousin and future sovereign, Casalens. In the name of the law, Casalens subjected the arrogant youth to a public flogging, ordered his guards to disarm Situs’s retainers, and had them bound and thrown into the dungeon.

　　At this time, Casalens possessed the power of a Crown Prince but had not yet been formally invested through the official ceremony. Therefore, his punishment was technically a breach of protocol and law. Drestya seized upon this as a pretext, goading the Count into stripping Casalens of his titles as Commander of the Guard and Garrison Commander. When an envoy presented the Count’s decree to the Crown Prince, Casalens immediately rejected it and detained the messenger within his residence.

　　At nightfall, under the guise of "ensuring safety," Casalens led his guard units to successfully surround the Count’s residence and storm inside. When some attempted to resist, arrows were immediately loosed to cut them down.

　　Upon receiving the signal, the city defense commander threw open the gates. The garrison troops charging into the city split into two columns: one descended upon a mansion in the West District—the stronghold of the Corit family—where retainers and desperados were prepared for a last stand; the other moved to the capital’s Castle Hall to reinforce the defenses.

　　Casalens first denounced the "treasonous acts" with a roar, then issued a chilling warning: if the Lord suffered any harm, he would ruthlessly exterminate the rebels. Left with no outside help, a trembling Bird was supported by Drestya. Under the relentless scolding of the Old Grandmother, they were forced to open the gates to the inner courtyard.

　　The soldiers immediately sheathed their swords and saluted their sovereign. A troop of servants then stepped forward, forcibly separating Bird and Drestya under the guise of "protection" and leading them to separate locations. The Corit family’s feeble resistance met with brutal retribution; Casalens secured his position through force of arms. Situs, however, was nowhere to be found. In reality, the young man was hiding inside a large wooden barrel stacked in the courtyard.

　　The raw instinct for survival allowed the pampered youth to endure the freezing night. Situs sought his mother’s help, but the heavy guard made it impossible to get close. He tried to trade his only ring for a groom’s assistance, but the bounty on his head was far greater than the value of the ring; the groom promptly betrayed him.

　　When Bird heard the news of his son’s capture, fatherly love finally sparked a flash of masculine courage in him. He resolved to save his son. He requested a final dinner with Situs—a human request that was difficult for the captors to refuse. As he escorted Situs back, Bird suddenly stabbed the gate guard and grappled with a warrior who tried to seize the boy, shouting for Situs to run for his life.

　　Situs actually managed to escape the palace gates and found help on West Will Street. This savior, a man named Keltimit, was a retainer of the Corit family who had luckily escaped the soldiers’ blades and Tiralner’s pursuit by disguising himself as a chicken-feed tender. He hid Situs inside a cart filled with trash and manure. Through various disguises and deceptions, they bluffed their way past the checkpoints, finally reaching Slovenr. Once they crossed the open fields ahead, they would enter the lands of the Huror.