The First Vampire

Chapter 168: 168 White Dew City (Part 1)_1

Translator: 549690339

White Dew Fortress is located within White Dew City.

This seems like a redundant statement, but it hides a bloody piece of history behind it.

Originally, the capital of the East was Ningxiang City, which was famous for its various precious spices.

Over time, the entire city was so imbued with fragrance that it was not simply the scent of spices, but an enduring aroma resulting from the deposit of hundreds of years of history.

Bards once described it in this way-

Even if Ningxiang City disappears from the world, you can still smell it on the map.

However, who would have thought that this eulogy would end up being a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Ningxiang City, the capital of spice, was ultimately wiped out from existence by the forbidden spell – [Falling Stars] – activated collectively by ten sixth-tier mages.

All that was left was a large pit that has now turned into a lake, and a faint aroma that can be perceived from a map.

Luckily, the fortress of the Lord of the East, the St. Prowse Family – White Dew Fortress, was built outside Ningxiang City and hence, managed to evade this disaster.

However, some people believed that the reason why mages targeted Ningxiang City for destruction was because White Dew Fortress was not located within the city.

The mages hoped to demonstrate their power to the Empire’s nobles through this action, making them fear, rather than extinguishing a Holy Knight Family, exacerbating conflicts, and causing unceasing enmity between the two sides.

Anyway, from then on, the St. Prowse Family and the Mage Council finally reached an agreement of non-interference and non-aggression.

Although Ningxiang City was destroyed, life must go on.

Through this event, the citizens of the East finally realised one thing – it is safer to stick with the nobles!

So when the East was rebuilding its capital, the design of the new city decisively included White Dew Fortress within it, and even changed its name to White Dew City.

In fact, the Easterners have not accomplished much in terms of military battles. They were at a loss when faced with a Mage’s City. If it were not for the Elf tribe, who also despised war and bordered the East, this region might not even belong to the Glorious Empire.

Although militarily weak, the Easterners’ achievements in art are quite high. Even the elves, who have not yet fully retreated to the depths of the Bright Moon Forest, believe that the Easterners are the “most noble and elegant” among humans.

White Dew Fortress, located in the centre of White Dew City, is one of the proudest architectural masterpieces of the Easterners.

The white and flawless dome, made of solid blocks of marble, emits a cold and mysterious glow even on moonless nights, as if the palace of deities had descended to earth.

In the square in front of the castle, there is a huge statue of a winged white horse, as if it is about to take off at any second.

This is precisely the insignia of the St. Prowse Family – the pure white Pegasus.

As night falls, bonfires are lit on the square, and hundreds of Eastern knights, dressed in pure white armor, circle around the statue. They all look solemn with their hands on their swords, praying with their heads bowed.

Below the statue, a woman in a white priest’s robe is leading the knights in prayer.

Her voice is dream-like but solemn.

” The Lord’s glory is omnipresent, guiding the spirits of the departed back to His holy temple ”

” Rest in peace, fearless warriors!”

This priestess appears to be in her forties, but she is still charming. The holy glow enveloping her adds an enigmatic appeal to her persona.

With the end of her prayer, a middle-aged man dressed in the Duke’s ceremonial dress strides into the square.

He is the lord of the East – Duke St. Prowse.

The Duke of the East approached the woman priest, placed his left hand on his chest, bowed in salutation and said-

“May the Grace of the Lord of Glory be eternal, may the souls of the departed warriors find peace!”

His voice was soft, with a touch of hoarseness, very infectious.

After finishing his speech, the Duke of the East lifted his head, his face instantly turning as hard as stone.

He drew the sword belted at his waist, raised it high above his head, pointed towards the sky, and vociferously proclaimed:

“But their will shall be inherited, their vengeance shall be engraved in our hearts!”

Ching

The knights gathered in the square drew their swords, imitating the Duke of St. Prowse, raising their swords to the sky, and chorusing:

“To inherit the will, to remember the vengeance!”

After concluding the ritual for the heroic spirits, the knights gradually dispersed.

Count Evan slowly walked over, saluting the only remaining Duke of St. Prowse and the Priestess in the square and greeted: “Father, Mother.”

Turns out, this Priestess was the Duchess herself.

The Duke of St. Prowse looked at his second son, his tone indifferent: “What is it? Are you here to plead for Viscount Auston too?”

Count Evan swiveled his eyeballs, smiling: “Actually, I am here to plead for my brother.”

“What’s the point? Your brother is still a captive of the Angler family, what use is there in pleading with me?”

But Count Evan did not answer directly, he rather detoured:

“Father, Viscount Auston has been kneeling in White Dew Fortress for three days and nights without a sip of water, if this continues  even his fourth level knight body might not withstand it.”

“Humph! You sympathize with him? Who will sympathize with the 200,000 soldiers of the Pegasus Army?”

“No, Father, I do not sympathize with Viscount Auston. But, if the deputy, Viscount Auston, was to die kneeling in White Dew Fortress, then what punishment should be bestowed upon the commander – Marquis Vincent?”

The Duke of St. Prowse raised an eyebrow, grunting: “So you really have come to plead for your brother.”

Count Evan grinned and urged, “Yes, Father. If you aren’t willing to pardon Viscount Auston now, then what reason will you have to pardon my brother when he returns?”

The Duke of St. Prowse snorted, “Why do you think I would pardon that worthless Vincent?”

“Oh? You have no intentions of pardoning my brother? That’s great!” Count Evan clapped his hands, even more excitedly claiming, “When can I inherit the title of Marquis from my brother then?”

“In your dreams!” The Duke of St. Prowse glared, enraged.

But Count Evan was not frightened at all, rather, he asked with a face full of shock:

“No way, Father, if you don’t pass this Marquis title to me, then who do you plan on passing it to? Surely it’s not Anna? With her discombobulated personality, are you really planning on entrusting the East to her?”

The Duke of St. Prowse was so enraged he began wheezing, his right hand tightly gripping the sword handle, seemingly ready to cut down his irresponsible son the next second.

“Enough, stop arguing.” The Duchess timely tried to mediate, “Evan, you are forbidden to speak with your father in such a tone in the future, and don’t belittle your brother nor your sister.”

“Yes, Mother.” Count Evan shrank back, seemingly more in awe of the kindly mother who spoke neither in haste nor irritation.

Subsequently, the Duchess turned to her husband: “Same goes for you, prepared to draw your sword on your own child? And that Viscount Auston, don’t really let him die in White Dew Fortress, it would tarnish your reputation.”

“I know.” The Duke of St. Prowse sighed, striding into the castle.

But after walking a few steps, he noticed that Count Evan didn’t follow and he turned back to order:

“Hurry up, I need to ask you something.”

“Yes, Father!”

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