Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 920 - 23: Blazing Fire

Jiangbei Province, Rum County, Gaoling Fortress.

The Alpard Family’s ancestral home had a history of over half a century and was the embodiment of an “old and decrepit abode.”

It wasn’t that the Alpard Family’s ancestors were short of money, but when breaking ground for the old house, the Paratu People were still living in the shadow of the Hurd tribes, and every year as autumn arrived, barbarians would come to plunder.

Therefore, to take into account both defense and warmth, the doors and windows of the Alpard Family’s old house were few and small. The core areas such as the storerooms, armory, and stables were all wrapped within thick walls. After entering the main gate, one would have to pass through a long corridor riddled with arrow slits and gun ports before truly entering the interior.

The entire building complex is better described as a miniature fortress than a residential place.

For the designers, sturdiness and security were the most pressing needs, while comfort and aesthetics were clearly not top priorities.

Precisely because of this, as soon as the threat from the wilderness was lifted, members of the Alpard Family could not wait to move out of the damp and cold building.

The Alpard Family’s old house has since been left idle, with only a few elderly and frail servants responsible for maintaining the property.

Until Alpad Duyome returned to Jiangbei Province.

…

On the bloody night at Kingsfort, when the Red Rose faction members of parliament jointly signed the order to arrest Major General Alpad Duyome, they certainly did not foresee the situation spiraling completely out of control.

Even if some MPs felt uneasy and panicked in advance, they still tremblingly signed their names and stamped their seals.

Unfortunately, nothing in this world is certain, except for death… and taxes.

As time moved into autumn, whether it was the “Paratu Provisional Military Government” or the “Republic of Paratu,” both had to accept this harsh reality: one might achieve victory, but the cost of victory was bound to far exceed expectations.

The dream of a swift victory had been utterly shattered. It proved that hoping the enemy would surrender without a fight or crumble at the first touch was nothing more than the delusion of fools.

Those agitators who once shouted “If we do this, and that, the enemy will surely do the same,” have now all become mute.

And the optimists who thought the civil war would quickly produce a winner now realized that the war was just getting started.

Calls for an “end to the civil war” began to emerge and grew increasingly louder. The cry came not only from within Paratu but even from allies expressing their concern.

The Chief Secretary of State of the Van Republic openly wrote to both the “Republic of Palatu” and the “Republic of Palatu,” urging “to resolve the war through negotiations.”

And this autumn the large-scale plundering by the Hurd tribes just provided both sides of the civil war with an opportunity.

After thirty years, the iron hooves of the Herdman once again stepped onto the land of Paratu. Even the Red Rose and Blue Rose, who were slaughtering each other just a moment before, could not help feeling a strong sense of shared animosity.

What followed need not be elaborated upon—both the Red and Blue Roses repelled the plundering warbands of the Hurd tribes and tacitly refrained from pulling each other’s legs. Afterward, the two armies rested across the river, and there were no major movements.

As autumn turned to winter, there seemed to be a turn for the better.

Kingsfort openly wrote a letter to the Van Republic National Assembly and Major General Alpad Duyome, taking the lead in expressing the willingness to accept the mediation of the Chief Secretary of the Van Republic, agreeing “to negotiate an end to the de facto division of the Republic of Palatu” and “not to let one more drop of Paratu people’s blood be spilled in vain.”

This beautifully worded public letter was signed by “Speaker of the Grand Council of the Republic of Palatu, Grof Magnus.”

It was also at this time that Alpad Duyome left the army, left the front lines, left the center of power of the military government, and returned to his homeland, Gaoling Fortress in Rum County.

He did not stay in the accommodations prepared for him by municipal officials, nor did he move into the spacious and comfortable new mansion, but instead returned to the place where he lived during his childhood and youth—his family’s old ancestral home.

…

As winter days were short and the Alpard Family’s ancestral home was poorly lit, by not quite five o’clock, the old house was already enveloped in darkness.

A servant quietly entered the study with a candlestick and then retreated just as silently.

Alpad stared absently at a corner of the study, oblivious to the servant’s comings and goings, until another elderly servant pushed open the wooden door with a tray.

“Your dinner, I’ve brought it for you,” the old servant paused at the door.

Alpad nodded slightly, and only then did the old servant step into the study.

Dinner was simple, just bread and soup.

Seeing their young master—who was now the master—return home, the household’s old servants eagerly cleaned the dining room until not a speck of dust remained.

However, Alpad Duyome had been a professional soldier for over thirty years, having spent more time in the barracks than in the old house, and had long forgotten all notions of aristocratic airs. Hence, so far, the dining room had yet to be used.

As the old servant arranged the tableware, Alpad suddenly asked, “Did you see that cabinet?”

“I did, master.”

“There is a hidden compartment behind that cabinet, likely left by a stonemason; you have to move the cabinet to see it. Besides me and Klein, I don’t think anyone else knows about it.”

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The old servant certainly knew who Klein was, but he didn’t know how to respond because Kleinheisler—Alpad Duyome’s closest brother—had died on the bloody night at Kingsfort.