The war between the Princess Royal of Lyndaria and Crown Prince Titus has dragged on for more than a year, with no clear victor in sight...
After such a long conflict, not only is the Princess Royal exhausted, but Northlyn is weary as well. In addition to the initial fifty thousand troops, Northlyn has sent another fifty thousand soldiers to the front lines.
Unlike Eastlyn, Northlyn doesn’t have a large population, nor does it rotate its troops in batches to prevent fatigue. Northlyn’s one hundred thousand soldiers were sent to the front and never returned; fighting day and night has left them utterly exhausted.
“If this continues, the national treasury won’t be able to sustain it. Your Majesty, please bring this war to an end or call for a truce as soon as possible.” All of the Princess Royal’s ministers are urging her to stop the war.
The Princess Royal pressed her aching forehead in silence. Lately, she’s been doing this more and more often—a sign of just how much pain she’s in.
She’d thought she could unify Lyndaria in at most a year, but to her shock, the war has dragged on for over a year with no progress at all. She hasn’t even managed to cross Jiangdu and is still stuck in her original territory.
What’s worse, the war has cost Lyndaria countless young people and laborers. Farmland lies abandoned, with no one left to plant crops. If this keeps up, Lyndaria will end up just like Northlyn.
“Your Majesty, we’ve all fallen for Eastlyn’s scheme.” One of the Princess Royal’s strategists, after a long pause, spoke slowly: “Eastlyn clearly has the strength to send massive troops to Lyndaria and help Crown Prince Titus end the war quickly, but instead, they’ve let the front drag on. While our two countries are locked in stalemate, Eastlyn has been reclaiming wasteland and expanding farmland. Last year, their total grain harvest was more than triple the usual, while ours didn’t even reach a third of normal years.”
The contrast is stark. Eastlyn has grown wealthier from postwar recovery, while Lyndaria—already weaker—has now been left even farther behind.
“Your Majesty, Eastlyn could swallow us whole with just a hundred thousand troops, and I fear our people would rather be Eastlyn’s subjects.” The strategist recalled the recent rumors spreading in the barracks—that after Southlyn’s fall, its people have grown wealthier and more prosperous.
With rumors like these spreading, the common people can’t help but wonder: if Lyndaria falls and is annexed by Eastlyn, will they, like the people of Southlyn, have land to farm and enough to eat and wear?
Once this idea takes root, it’s hard to shake. If Eastlyn’s armies ever attack, Lyndaria’s citizens might even throw open the city gates to welcome them...
The Princess Royal isn’t unaware of this risk, but she insists, “We’ve fought this long—I refuse to give up!”
Yes, she refuses to accept defeat!
To conquer all of Lyndaria, the Princess Royal has already sacrificed far too much. And with nearly seventy thousand Northlyn troops still on her territory, if she calls for a halt now, will those Northlyn forces really leave?
If they refuse to withdraw, they’ll turn on her instead—and she’ll lose everything, both her land and her army.
“No, I absolutely cannot stop now. I have to fight this war—and I must win.” The Princess Royal made up her mind; her strategist sighed inwardly, knowing there was no other choice.
From the moment they allied with Northlyn, they mounted a tiger and couldn’t get off. If they were much weaker than Northlyn, they’d be swallowed whole. Now, even if they want peace, they have no choice but to fight.
“After fighting for so long, both the Princess Royal and Titus are worn out. A life-and-death showdown is inevitable. To outsiders, Titus is Eastlyn’s ally, so Eastlyn is expected to send troops.” Serena Feng looked at Ninth Royal Uncle, waiting for his answer.
“A hundred thousand.” Ninth Royal Uncle gave Serena a definite number. As Serena wondered why he’d make such a costly move, he added, “Garrison!”
In other words, these one hundred thousand Eastlyn troops will be stationed in Lyndaria permanently—they won't be withdrawn.
To station troops openly in another country—this is absolutely a slap in the face. But right now, Eastlyn really does have the power to pull it off.
"We can't let Northlyn expand, and we can't let them get outside support." Serena Feng understood the Ninth Royal Uncle's deeper intent. On the surface, it looks like they're occupying Lyndaria, but in reality, it's to stop Northlyn from swallowing it whole.
Northlyn's ambitions are no smaller than Eastlyn's. Right now, Northlyn is Eastlyn's greatest enemy—they can't afford to let their guard down.
"Mm. Have you decided about the academies?" As soon as the Lyndarian war ends, the academies can be established—starting with the capital.
"Simon Sun told me a couple days ago he wants to go to Lyndaria to practice medicine, so I'll put him in charge." Just thinking about Simon Sun gives Serena a headache.
Ever since he served on the Southlyn front two years ago and saw the suffering of soldiers and civilians, Simon has been determined to be a doctor without borders—wherever there's war, that's where he runs, never caring about the danger.
If Serena Feng hadn't kept a close eye on him, Simon Sun would have rushed to the Lyndarian front long ago, not waited until now.
"I'm not worried." The Ninth Royal Uncle stepped forward and took Serena's hand. "With Ling Mo there, he'll be safe."
"Cold steel doesn't care who it hits—no one can predict what happens on a battlefield, and Lyndaria isn't our territory." Leaning into the Ninth Royal Uncle's arms, Serena Feng sighed softly. "The kids are growing up—they don't listen to us anymore. Every single one is like this, just thinking about it gives me a headache…"