Arrogance and prejudice

"The Ferrera family? Sorry, I've never heard of them," Harvey Garcia said arrogantly, his tone carrying a hint of sophistication uncommon in the northern provinces.

"I've just returned from the capital and am not very familiar with the countryside… excuse me, not very familiar with the Ferrera family. I heard you're here to purchase iron ore?"

Suppressing his irritation, Derek forced a smile. "Yes, I heard your family recently discovered a mine. I'd like to buy a portion of the output."

"Ha! Such matters should be discussed with Baron Ferrera himself. Moreover, I'm afraid we don't have much to spare," Harvey replied nonchalantly, shrugging as if he found his own words amusing. "You see, iron ore is in high demand. We need to reserve some for when our friends arrive, to provide them with some assistance.

"By the way, if your family is buying ore, you must have surplus blacksmiths. If you're willing to lend them to my friends, once they make their mark, they might share some with you, perhaps even grant you a knight's fief? You understand what I mean, don't you, Sir Derek?"

Alright, Derek understood perfectly. He was interested in their ore, and they were interested in his manpower, possibly even eyeing the entire Ferrera family as subordinates. And likely, they intended to pledge allegiance to some external noble.

Derek nearly laughed out of anger. He wasn't even keen on aligning with Count Perez, so why would he care about the Garcia family?

"Harvey, you must have been away from the northern provinces for too long and forgotten the valor of its people. Your friends might come here looking for scraps, but they are not qualified to flaunt themselves before me. Remember, before me," Derek retorted, openly defiant.

Harvey never expected Derek to respond so boldly. In his eyes, a country noble should be eager to curry favor when offered an olive branch. In the capital, noble scions held significant political clout, with many holding minor royal appointments or effortlessly securing knightly fiefs, a dream for many.

How dare he?

As Derek prepared to leave, Harvey, humiliated and furious, shouted, "Aude, Aude! Teach this disrespectful country bumpkin a lesson!"

The Garcia family, after all, had enough clout to enter royal circles. This second son, accustomed to capital life, had a retinue of retainers. At his call, several warriors moved to block Derek's path.

Adrian, who had been quietly following Derek, sprang into action. Lowering his shoulder, he charged, scattering the warriors like they'd been hit by a bear.

Without turning back, Derek strode through the cleared path. As he passed one of the fallen warriors, he paused, drawing the man's sword.

Not bad quality.

Derek inspected it briefly, then flipped it in his hand and hurled it backward.

The blade flashed through the air, embedding an inch deep into the wall right next to Harvey.

Harvey stood frozen, sweat pouring down his face. Had the sword veered even slightly, it wouldn't be in the wall—it would be in him.

"You idiots! I paid so much for your services, and this is how you protect me?" Harvey Garcia raged, unable to accept the humiliation of being outmatched by a mere country noble. Even worse, the men he had relied on so heavily had proven utterly useless.

Aude, one of his warriors, could only grit his teeth in silence. The sheer strength of that northerner, combined with his speed, had been overwhelming. He had barely had time to react before being knocked aside. Reluctantly, Aude stepped forward to retrieve the sword embedded in the wall. It took several tries, but he finally pulled it free, staring at the deep hole it had left.

Was this how powerful all northern nobles were? If so, what was the point of even trying? He considered the possibilities: either the northern nobles would crush the barbarians, or the supposedly even fiercer barbarians would crush them. Either way, what chance did a weakling like Harvey have?

Meanwhile, Derek, oblivious to the existential crisis he had triggered in Aude, had already left the Garcia estate. Mounting his horse, he rode off quickly. He had just made an enemy out of a local power, and he wasn't about to risk his safety on their mercy. Derek considered himself brave, but he knew better than to overestimate his chances in a direct confrontation.

This encounter left Derek with a bitter taste in his mouth. Up until now, the nobles he had visited had been polite, either out of respect for their mutual acquaintances, the Ferrera family's reputation, or simply because they shared the status of northern nobility. But strip away those formalities, and the true, ugly nature of people like the Garcias was laid bare.

The Garcia family wouldn't be the last to show their true colors, Derek realized, and this experience deepened his understanding of the world he lived in. Adrian, who had been stewing in his frustration, couldn't help but voice his anger. Despite all his knowledge, nothing had prepared him for this kind of disdain.

"Derek, should we keep going?"

"Absolutely. A true man must be able to endure hardships, Brother Adrian. The struggles we're facing now will be stories of our triumphs in the future. Trust me, when we succeed, the Garcia family will come crawling back to apologize."

Adrian felt revitalized by Derek's words. Pride? Derek was more clear-headed than most; he knew that pride alone was worthless.

The road ahead remained tough. Derek encountered all manner of contempt and opportunism. The war had indeed become a goldmine for some, and even merchants had begun looking down on him, a noble by birth. Derek swallowed his pride, mentally noting each slight, resolving to outlast and outmaneuver them all.

"Just wait," he thought. "I'll drive each and every one of you out of business."

By the time Derek returned to his estate, the iron ore shortage had been more or less resolved. Now, his focus turned to training, pushing his men to their limits. Never again would he allow anyone to disrespect him like that.

While the northern provinces were buzzing with activity, a band of barbarians from the far northern wilderness had crossed into the buffer zone. These barbarians, taller and more rugged than the northern men, had skin that was nearly brown and eyes that gleamed a pale green.

Yet, despite their primitive weapons, each man was armed, and some even wore armor and rode on tall, powerful horses. The air around them crackled with their fierce energy.

"Foolish Lokians," their leader sneered as he spurred his horse forward, staring intently towards the north. "They think we're the same as we were thirty years ago?"

Arrogance and prejudice have always hovered over humanity like a shadow.

When Derek encountered the arrogant Harvey Garcia, he was confronted with the disdain and prejudice of the capital's nobility towards the rural nobility. However, Derek himself also fell into the same trap of arrogance and prejudice.

Everyone believed that the barbarians were backward, ignorant, and uncivilized. Thirty years ago, the split wars were seen as merely a result of the barbarians' opportunism. And it was only because of the civil wars among the three kingdoms that they hadn't been able to address this nuisance.

Perhaps thirty years ago, the barbarians did fit the impression held by the nobles of the Locke Kingdom. However, what was taken from them back then wasn't just land—it was also a significant portion of the population.

Thirty years have passed—how could the barbarians not have made any progress? Over the course of a generation, the barbarians established a simple semi-feudal system, acquired some technological and military knowledge, and even had a portion of the Locke Kingdom's descendants serving them.

The northern lands were remote, and with a buffer zone in between, combined with the prevailing prejudices, people ignored the changes in the barbarians. The land they had voluntarily relinquished back then had instead become a perfect shield.

Even though some nobles traded with the barbarians, they still fundamentally believed that the barbarians were ignorant and uncivilized. Derek shared this belief—how many among the northern nobles were truly clear-headed?

So, when the barbarian army suddenly appeared, the northern nobles were caught completely off guard. It wasn't just the Locke Kingdom; even the neighboring Holy Cross Kingdom saw the presence of barbarians.

Thirty years ago, it might have been considered luck. Thirty years later, the barbarians openly declared their place on the southern continent.

The nobles of the northern province and the officials of the kingdom were utterly unprepared. In just a few days, the barbarians had blitzed through four or five cities, even beheading an earl. Many nobles and the kingdom's forces suffered heavy losses, and it seemed like history was repeating itself.

When Derek finally heard the news, it was already ten days after the barbarian invasion. The message had finally spread after overcoming numerous obstacles, and the northern nobles realized that this was no mere rumor.

Many were caught off guard, unprepared for the war that had arrived so suddenly. According to the kingdom's plan, they were supposed to have six more months to train and gather an army. But now, only two months had passed, and many farmers had only taken up arms for less than a month—how effective could they be in battle?

The most critical issue was that these scattered farmers could hardly form a cohesive fighting force. Even worse, large reserves of supplies had already fallen into the hands of the barbarians.

The Ferreira family urgently convened a meeting to discuss this monumental turn of events.

"The vanguard of the barbarians has already reached Ironwall City. If Ironwall City falls, the entire northern part of the province will be overrun, and Watchtower City will be the next target." Baron Ferrera spoke with a heavy tone, his concern evident. Though he had experience in warfare, the current situation was testing even his resolve.

On the map of the province, two clear dividing lines were marked. Ironwall City was the first line of defense, directly facing the barbarians and the Holy Cross Kingdom. Watchtower City was the second line, closer to the heartland of the province. The Ferrera family's territory was on the side of Watchtower City, not the farthest north, but still within a dangerous area. What was most pressing was that Count Pérez's territory lay in the middle, making it a primary target for the barbarians.

Baron Ferrera understood that if Ironwall City and its structured military forces were defeated, relying on individual nobles to resist would surely lead to disaster.

Derek, after overcoming his initial shock, quickly adjusted his mindset. He asked a crucial question, "What's the situation in Ironwall City? Can they hold out?"

"We're not sure," replied Baron Ferrera, rubbing his temples in frustration. "The current governor is from a courtly noble family and has no military achievements to his name. The Iron Lion Legion, stationed in Ironwall City, has only a force of three thousand, though they've recently been expanding their numbers. Along with the city garrison and the private armies of nobles, they might hold if they don't make any grave mistakes."

Derek saw the severity of the situation but also recognized an opportunity. "Regardless of whether Ironwall City can hold, we need to prepare for both outcomes. We should evacuate some of our people to the mountains immediately. Father, you should stay and defend the family here. With the castle, we can hold out for a while if things go south. My brother and I will prepare to join the fight; we can't just sit by and do nothing."

Derek understood the principle that if the northern province's organized military was destroyed, relying on the nobles fighting alone would be a disaster. His older brother, Marco, agreed, "Derek is right, Father. Our second brother is still serving in Ironwall City, and we can't abandon him. We should send our youngest brother away as a precaution. This way, the family will survive no matter what happens."

From a rational standpoint, even if the worst came to pass, the Ferrera family would not lose its lineage.

"Moreover, the honor and practical considerations of the northern nobles will not allow them to retreat. The fate of the nobles who lost their lands thirty years ago is still fresh in the minds of the northern people. Many have lost their lineages and the glory of their ancestors."

Baron Ferrera understood that Derek's arrangements were sound. It was time to make a decision.

"Baron, there is an order from the governor," the Knight Commander burst in with the royal decree.

"Let me see it."

Baron Ferrera took the order, which was a standard announcement:

"By order of the Governor of the Northern Province, a temporary army corps is to be formed. Earl Pérez is appointed as the commander of the Second Temporary Corps. You are required to assemble within three days of receiving this order and to launch a rescue mission to Ironwall City within ten days. All achievements in this battle will be recorded, with titles and lands granted after the war. The rewards will be generous."

Clearly, the governor had not abandoned the idea of resistance and was very clear-headed. As the highest official in the northern province, he had the authority to issue such orders, and the king would certainly fulfill the promised rewards post-war to maintain the kingdom's credibility.

Baron Ferrera finally made up his mind.

"Follow Derek's plan. Leave a portion of the soldiers behind; Marco, you take the rest."

Baron Ferrera arranged the family's resources and entrusted Marco with the family's forces. Derek would act as an independent entity.

"I will expedite the recruitment and training of soldiers. We'll be able to hold our ground. Derek, please take good care of your brother."

The final remark was a father's heartfelt concern.

"I will," Derek promised. As far as he was able, he would not stand idly by.