Primordial Villain with a Slave Harem

Chapter 1287  Eric's Troublesome Letter

Alexios slid a thumb beneath the seal and opened the wax with a soft snap.

The letter inside was neat, formal, and carried the crest of a familiar fringe county.

Eric Winterwood.

He rolled the name in his mind.

Winterwood… yes.

A border county in Greenvale. They were newcomers by Alexios' old aristocrat standards, because the previous owners of the county were brutalized when the Beastman Confederation, which bordered, conducted an invasion and ran over the county before Alastair Greenvale could respond.

Nonetheless, while not even close to the strongest county, the Winterwoods were a consistent military value, holding respectable strength for a land bordering the immensely aggressive and prideful beasts.

Of course, Alexios knew the family name.

He knew all the names.

Counts. Viscounts. Barons.

He had reigned long enough to memorize thousands. In a kingdom as large as Vraven - once a handful of petty kingdoms before his ancestors unified the human lands - he had made it a point to know every noble family who had the authority to tax even a single village.

But Eric?

That name… did not belong to the lord he remembered.

The last Winterwood on record was…

"Alaric," Alexios murmured.

Without a prompt, an elderly aide stepped forward. The man had a long grey beard that brushed against his chest and eyes that suggested he had been doing this job for far too long.

"Lord Alaric Winterwood died of illness not long ago, my liege," the old advisor said quietly. "His two surviving sons, Eric and Griffin, had a minor dispute over succession. The elder, Eric, assumed the title."

Alexios nodded.

It wasn't strange that he wasn't informed of the succession just yet, as the dukes didn't need his approval to appoint or confirm counts. It wasn't how Vraven was structured.

Dukes were almost kings of their territory, and while their loyalty was sworn to the throne, their administrative powers were nearly autonomous as long as they abided by the rules.

Alexios only received annual reports summarizing changes in their territories when it came to matters such as this.

And Greenvale's latest report, authored by Duke Alastair Greenvale himself, had not yet arrived.

Which meant this new lord, Eric Winterwood, had risen to his seat in the last few months without Alexios being formally notified.

The king exhaled and rubbed his temples.

Perfect.

Another new variable.

And a variable tied directly to the Primordial Villain's recent… activities. Alexios unfolded the letter, bracing for whatever had compelled a count to bypass his duke and write the king directly on a day like this.

—

To His Most Sovereign Majesty,

Alexios Valorian,

Shield of Vraven and Keeper of the Human Realm,

With dutiful reverence, I, Eric Winterwood, Lord of the Border County of Winterwood, lay before Your Majesty a matter of grave urgency.

In accordance with my obligations as a vassal of House Greenvale, I heeded the summons of Duke Alastair Greenvale, who called upon his bannermen to provide military aid for the campaign against the Vesper Consortium. Trusting in the righteousness of that endeavor and in the judgment of my liege, I deployed half of my standing forces, including my trained household knights, to his banners with neither hesitation nor reservation.

Yet fate has turned in a manner no man of reason could have foreseen.

On this very night, the entity known as the Primordial Villain descended upon my estate. He breached my walls, slew more than a dozen of my elite guards, and departed before my stationed armies arrived to storm the castle. If not for the sacrifice of my elites, who valiantly offered their lives to slow the invader down, I would not be writing this letter.

I remain now with but a single surviving knight of my household retinue. Winterwood stands dangerously exposed, its defenses crippled, its lord wholly vulnerable should the villain choose to strike again.

As is proper, I sent a petition to my liege, requesting that he release my levied soldiers for the defense of their homeland.

Duke Alastair refused.

He cited the ancient decree of Rennhal's Covenant, which forbids a vassal from recalling troops once they have been committed to a ducal campaign until the allotted campaign window has elapsed. I do not dispute the legitimacy of this law; yet its application in this singular circumstance leaves my lands without shield or sword at the very moment the existential threat, who can bypass my border forts, my city walls, and descend on my home without anyone noticing, returns to finish what he started.

Thus, I stand in disbelief that my home may fall not only to the Villain's wrath, but to the inaction of the very man under whom I serve.

And so, with the utmost humility, I beseech Your Majesty's guidance.

While Duke Alastair enforces his authority with the weight of Rennhal's Covenant, Your Majesty yourself declared, before the courts and before the nobles of the realm, that the ducal seat of Greenvale shall belong to the house that succeeds in eradicating the Vesper Consortium. If the ducal succession is contingent on this contest, then I find myself uncertain:

Is Lord Alastair Greenvale still the rightful Duke of Greenvale in Your Majesty's eyes?

—

A quiet chuckle slipped out of the old king's throat as he read that line.

The old advisor glanced at him. "My liege?"

"This boy… he has a way with words," Alexios murmured. "How old is he?"

The advisor stroked his long beard. "Between twenty-five and thirty, Your Majesty. If you would like, I can look-"

"No need," the king interrupted. To a millennia-old person like him, whether someone was 25 or 30 did not matter; both were akin to babies.

"Hoh…" Alexios stroked his own beard as he leaned back and finished the rest of the letter.

—

If he is the rightful Duke of Greenvale, then I accept Your Majesty's word as law and shall trust in my liege's decisions, even should my family line be extinguished as a result.

If he is not, then I respectfully ask whether Your Majesty intends to appoint an interim authority, one who will act in a manner befitting the crown's will until the rightful victor of the contest is named.

I raise this only because my house's survival rests upon clarity.

Without Your Majesty's ruling, I fear that Winterwood may perish not from foreign beasts and perhaps not even the Primordial Villain, but from the uncertain loyalties of those who claim the right to command us.

Whatever Your Majesty decrees, the Winterwood family shall obey.

Our line endures solely by Your Majesty's grace.

With unwavering loyalty,

Eric Winterwood

Lord of Winterwood, Border of Vraven

—

"…" The letter made the old sovereign exhale inwardly. This was troublesome.