As Derek watched the barbarians withdraw across the border, he finally let out a breath.

The dispossessed nobles soon returned with hastily assembled forces to reclaim their lands. Some would answer for the disaster with stripped titles or confiscated estates, depending on the severity of their failures. After this invasion, no one would underestimate the barbarians again, and the border defenses would inevitably be strengthened.

For the moment, several thousand-man units of the Second Legion took over the region to guard against another invasion. As for Derek, a bright future awaited him.

The other commanders he met during the handover could not have been more cordial. Everyone knew that his status would be different from now on.

When Derek returned to Ironwall City with his military orders, the welcome was even grander. Both thousand-man units were permitted to enter the city for a banquet. In a sense, he had saved the city.

The acclaim nearly went to Derek's head. Memories of his previous life kept warning him that success was when humility mattered most.

Attention bred jealousy. His victory outshone every resentful gaze for now, but those resentments could become dangerous once the glory faded.

Humility and restraint could prevent many problems. Of course, a young man still needed the spirit to fight for what was his when the time came.

He could act boldly without making himself insufferable.

Each day taught Derek something new. Drawing on the experience of his previous life, he refined the way he dealt with this world's nobility and earned widespread praise.

That praise reached its peak when the Governor received him.

With the war over, the Governor once again stood as the foremost man in the Northern Province. He governed more than a million people and, in most cases, could decide any individual's fate. Even powerful counts had to yield to him in matters of law and administration.

By law, he was the Kingdom’s Governor and the highest authority in the province. He could deploy troops, administer civil affairs, collect taxes, and even exercise the King’s right to summon nobles.

He held immense power, yet he was only a court noble in his own right. That was the King's check on the office: a Governor commanded the province while in office, but could not easily turn that authority into lasting family power.

None of that was for Derek to consider. Right now, the man before him could decide his future.

So Derek made himself deferential. When the Governor came out personally to welcome him, he responded with convincing humility.

“Knight Derek, I have already sent the memorial of your achievements to the royal capital by fast horse. Your reward will arrive soon. For now... allow me to host a feast for the hero of the north.”

“I would not dare claim it. This battle was not my achievement alone. My comrades of the First and Second Legions aided me, the Iron Lion Legion and city guard stood firm, and the northern nobles gave their support. This is everyone’s merit. How could I take it for myself?”

Derek’s words surprised everyone.

After his brazen display outside Ironwall City, many had expected a proud and unruly youth. They might have tolerated arrogance from a newly made hero, but that tolerance would eventually have curdled into resentment.

Instead, every noble present smiled. Whatever the truth, Derek’s words gave each of them a share of the credit. The punishment for the dispossessed nobles might even be reduced—perhaps a fine would settle the matter.

And Derek lost nothing. His own merit could not be diminished. On the contrary, everyone now had reason to magnify the victory—and therefore Derek's leading role in it. Nor could the King reward him poorly without unsettling the north.

That was a win for everyone.

Governor Jeffries gave him a long look, then tightened his grip on Derek’s hand.

“Well said. I had long heard of the bearing of northern knights. Today, I have finally witnessed it.”

Governor Jeffries warmly led Derek into the banquet hall, seated him in the first position below the host, and personally helped remove his armor.

It was political theater. For Derek, it was also an honor worth boasting of, so he played along perfectly.

“My lords,” the Governor announced, “through the strength of the north and the aid of Knight Derek, we drove back the barbarians. Drink!”

The Governor truly deserved his reputation as a politician. He made a disaster sound like a triumph. Someone who did not know better might have thought the Kingdom of Locke had invaded the barbarians.

Everyone cooperated. The opening stage of the war had been humiliating, and all of them wanted it buried beneath the final victory.

Amid it all, Derek gained a deeper understanding of politics. Facts mattered less than the story powerful men agreed to tell about them.

Military merit. Reputation. Achievement.

They could help him rise, but they could not secure lasting power on their own. For that, Derek still had to master the rules of this world.

The banquet ended in cheerful harmony. The Northern Province appeared peaceful and prosperous. The traces of war from only days before seemed completely erased.

Everyone was doing their best to make the war disappear.

Only a few unfortunate people had died. Only commoners had been carried away. The nobles remained nobles, and the Northern Province remained theirs. That was the version everyone preferred.

Derek finally met his second brother. Sergei had been swiftly promoted to centurion, carrying him beyond the lowest officer ranks.

The Iron Lion Legion was the standing legion of the Northern Province, and it expanded whenever war came. It had already grown from three thousand to five thousand men, and another expansion was likely. With some support from Baron Ferreira, Sergei might rise further.

For now, however, he cared more about his younger brother.

“Derek, you are truly famous now. Everyone has been asking me about you.”

Sergei was delighted. His younger brother’s success reflected well on him too. He asked for every detail of the war, then praised Derek all over again.

In hindsight, the barbarians had been thoroughly outmaneuvered. Derek had drawn them into the trap step by step, and the unexpected strength of his soldiers had decided the battle.

From the beginning, the barbarians had been destined to suffer. The only question was how badly.

“I do not think this war is over,” Derek said, voicing his concern. “The barbarians acted too strangely. More trouble may be waiting for us. Second Brother, do not lower your guard.”

This time Sergei remembered the warning seriously. Derek was no longer the child he had once known. Sergei trusted his judgment, though neither brother could guess what the barbarians were planning.

They discussed it for a long time without finding an answer. Then shocking news arrived, followed by two consecutive orders from the royal capital.

...

The Kingdom of the Holy Cross had suffered a crushing defeat. The barbarians had fought a major battle with it and routed the entire army of Saint Miller Province.

An entire province—vast territory with a population of more than a million—had fallen into barbarian hands.

Clearly, the barbarians had attacked along two routes. They had suffered a minor setback against the Kingdom of Locke, but won a great victory against the Holy Cross.

As hostile kingdoms, Locke should have celebrated the news. But from the perspective of the three southern kingdoms, it was nothing to celebrate. They all came from the same root; their conflicts were civil wars. The barbarians were foreign enemies.

The Barbarian Kingdom's campaign had overturned every assumption. Thirty years had changed the balance of power. Tens of thousands of deaths across two fronts had announced the rise of a new northern kingdom.

Before the nobles and officials of the Northern Province could recover from the shock, two orders arrived from the royal capital.

The first formally rewarded everyone who had distinguished themselves, and the King was generous. Derek received a hereditary barony, the title of court viscount, and the post of commander of the Saint Miller Legion.

The new Saint Miller Legion was authorized for five thousand men. For now, however, it possessed little beyond the name; its actual troops would be carved out of the Second Legion.

But that was secondary. The meaningful name made the King’s intentions plain.

Derek’s fief was also in the Kingdom of the Holy Cross, larger even than House Ferreira’s territory. Nor was he alone. Many nobles and meritorious officers had been granted lands in Saint Miller Province. Spread a map open, and half the province had already been promised away.

Before the northern nobles could begin cursing, the King’s second order arrived.

The Kingdom recognized the Barbarian Kingdom and would formally establish diplomatic relations. In exchange, the barbarians would hand Saint Miller Province over to the Kingdom of Locke in full.

That explained the King's orders. Barbarian envoys must have been waiting in the royal capital all along.

If the Northern Province had fallen instead, would nobles from the Holy Cross have come to claim it?

Before Derek could think further, the King’s envoy and an envoy from the noble Senate arrived together. The special envoy performed a hurried investiture in the King’s name, even waiving the customary journey to the royal capital for an audience.

The Senate’s envoy presented the noble insignia and coat of arms prepared in advance. When Derek’s knighthood had been registered, the double-headed dragon had already been recorded. But a knight could only use triangular pennants and swallowtail banners. Now he could cut away the swallowtail and formally use a noble’s square banner.

The King had made him a court viscount and Baron of Augusta. In formal use, he could now style himself Derek von Augusta, and his descendants would inherit the Augusta name.

His domain was the Augusta region of Saint Miller Province.

Of course, the Holy Cross might retake it before long. That would be infuriating.

“Viscount Derek, please depart as soon as possible. His Majesty awaits good news from you.”

Having completed his task, the envoy brought the King’s urging.

The Kingdom of Locke had little time. The Holy Cross must have begun preparing a counterattack as soon as the barbarians invaded; it had simply not expected the province to collapse so quickly, or Locke to replace the barbarians as its enemy there.

The Holy Cross would certainly try to reclaim the province. The barbarians had handed the entire mess to the Kingdom of Locke—and, more specifically, to unlucky men like Derek.

The King's conduct was hardly honorable, but Saint Miller Province was an opportunity he could not ignore. The barbarians had been his original target; the unexpected chance to seize a rich province changed his plans.

The barbarian plan was easy enough to see: set the two southern kingdoms against each other and gain time to grow. Unfortunately, both kingdoms already had ample reason to fight.

That night, the Governor summoned every noble and official. Many looked at Derek with pity; they clearly knew what had happened. Saint Miller Province might not be retaken, but a prolonged war was unavoidable. The Kingdom of the Holy Cross would not let the matter rest.

The Governor coughed. The King’s change of course had put him in a difficult position as well. His eyes passed over generals and nobles like Derek; some faces were angry, others expressionless.

“Ahem. Saint Miller Province is an unexpected development, and everyone understands the barbarians’ intentions. But this opportunity comes once in a lifetime. Had the barbarians not struck by surprise, Saint Miller Province would never have fallen so easily.”

That was true. If Locke’s army had moved, Saint Miller Province would have prepared long ago. Only barbarians who had slipped from the world’s attention had a chance at such a surprise attack.

It was a rare opportunity. But the King had handled it badly.

Facing the silent nobles awkwardly, the Governor continued. “Rest assured: for the next three years, Saint Miller Province will have no Governor and pay no taxes. The Kingdom will provide food, supplies, and even population support with all its strength.”

The Kingdom knew the new province could not sustain Locke's occupation alone. Food, settlers, and every kind of material would have to flow north. Compared with the potential gain, the investment was worthwhile.

The nobles looked much better.

Count Perez beckoned Derek over. “This time I will also campaign. The First and Second Legions will be combined into one. With your Saint Miller Legion and the private forces of the various houses, we will have perhaps twenty to thirty thousand men against the Holy Cross’s first counterattack. Royal reinforcements will take at least three to five months. What do you think, Derek?”

Count Perez was under great pressure. One wrong move and he could be buried in Saint Miller Province.

Derek considered it, but gave no definite answer. “We must see the situation once we reach Saint Miller Province. But we cannot neglect the barbarians either.”

“True. We must prevent the barbarians from suddenly turning on us. But we must also take over Saint Miller Province as quickly as possible and prepare early.”

It was entirely possible that the barbarians would stab them in the back, then turn and attack the Northern Province. Even if the handover went smoothly, it had to happen quickly. A Holy Cross counterattack during the transfer could be disastrous.

Derek was prepared. “If the barbarians do not cooperate, we will show them some strength. They want us two tigers to fight so they can gain room to develop. Since that is what they want, they will not dare break with us lightly.”

The barbarians had exposed their own pressure point. Derek intended to use it.

Count Perez had not considered it. He immediately laughed. “Then I will transfer the troops to you as quickly as possible. Set out ahead of me and test the barbarians’ resolve.”