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The Prince of Obelia

A young man dies of cancer and is reincarnated in a magical world then dies again....he transmigrates into the body the youngest prince in the kingdom of Obelia now. When his uncle usurps the throne, his father pleads for his life, sparing him from execution while his family is killed. Exiled to the kingdom's frozen outskirts, the prince must survive using the knowledge from his past lives

TundraHundredth · Kỳ huyễn
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
40 Chs

Chapter 31 New Lords

A few weeks passed and the regions now had newly elected lords:

Frostpine Hold: Elric

Far to the northeast, in the dense forests of Frostpine Hold, another leader emerged from the ashes of Lord Aldric's fall. The people of Frostpine elected Elric, Aldric's former huntsman, to manage the domain. Elric was no noble, but he knew the forests better than any, and his deep knowledge of the land's timber and game kept Frostpine alive in its most desperate hour.

Elric had no interest in politics or ambition, only in ensuring the survival of his people. Under his leadership, Frostpine became more insular, retreating into the safety of its woods. The people relied on Elric's knowledge of the forest, cutting down timber and hunting for food while avoiding the growing tensions in Obelia. Frostpine's wealth, once tied to its timber trade, was now less about coin and more about survival.

Frostmarsh Keep: Runa

Situated near the treacherous marshes, was once known for its rare herbs. After the fall of Count Havel, the people turned to Runa, a skilled herbalist who had once been Count Havel's personal advisor. Runa had no love for politics, but she had a deep connection to the land. She was respected for her knowledge of the dangerous marshes and the valuable herbs they held.

Runa's rule was one of practicality. She focused on restoring herbal trade, sending out small bands of trusted gatherers to collect the precious plants that had once made them famous. She knew that without the herbs, the area had little to offer, so she tightened her grip on the knowledge of the marshes, ensuring that only those loyal to her could navigate its dangers.

Ironstone Hold: Thane

The miners of Ironstone Hold, had been leaderless after the death of Lord Godfrey, and rebellion had threatened to tear the region apart. In their desperation, the people elected Thane, a former blacksmith and respected figure among the miners, to rule the hold. Thane had no noble blood but understood the value of the mines better than anyone.

He was a hard man, forged in the fires of the forges he once worked. Thane immediately set about restoring order to Ironstone Hold by organizing the miners and restoring the flow of iron and coal. Though it was a slow process, Thane's no-nonsense leadership brought a semblance of stability to Ironstone, though tensions between the miners and the local elites remained.

Snowgale Ridge: Anwen

In the wide, open plains of the Ridge, where Lady Stark had once ruled, the people turned to Anwen, a renowned horse trainer who had served under Lady Stark's command. Anwen was known for his deep connection to the prized horses of Windfall and was elected by the surviving leaders of the region.

Under Anwen's leadership, Snowgale Ridge focused on preserving the prized bloodlines of its horses, though the land itself was fractured by infighting. Anwen's knowledge of horse breeding kept the region afloat, though he power was tenuous at best. He struggled to maintain peace as rival factions vied for control of the plains, each seeking to dominate the horse trade.

Stonevale: Miro

In Stonevale, where Duke Radomir's death had left the quarries abandoned, the people elected Miro, a former quarry foreman, to manage the region. Miro had worked the stone for years and knew every inch of the quarries. His election was not out of respect, but out of necessity—he was the only one who could keep the quarries functioning.

Miro was a gruff, no-nonsense man who saw Stonevale's survival as tied to its ability to continue exporting its marble and stone. He set about restoring order by bringing the workers back and reopening the quarries, but his control was fragile, and many feared that Stonevale would crumble under the weight of its economic decline.

The remnants of the army that had once pledged itself to these regions returned home, their numbers vastly diminished. Without the leadership of their fallen lords, many soldiers took up new roles, becoming mercenaries, farmers, or even bandits. Some were absorbed into the forces of the newly elected leaders, but many simply disappeared into the wilderness, disillusioned by the loss of their comrades and the futility of their cause.

---

The grand hall of the newly built Royal Palace which was not yet complete, was filled with an air of tense anticipation. Courtiers, nobles, and high-ranking officials gathered in the opulent chamber, their murmurs barely audible over the clamor of excited voices. Martin stood at the head of the room, his regal presence commanding silence as he prepared to address the assembly.

He cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd. "My esteemed lords and ladies," he began, his voice firm and resolute, "I stand before you today to announce a momentous decision that will shape the future of our kingdom."

A hush fell over the room as the crowd leaned in, eager to hear the proclamation. Martin's expression was one of unwavering determination as he continued. "After much deliberation and consideration of our kingdom's strategic and economic needs, I have decided that Rotengen will be declared the new capital of our realm."

The declaration was met with a mix of gasps and murmurs. The shock and curiosity among the attendees were palpable. Many had anticipated a shift in policy but not such a sweeping change in the kingdom's heart.

Martin raised his hand to quiet the crowd before proceeding. "Rotengen has proven its resilience and strategic importance. It stands as a symbol of our strength and unity. Its fortifications, resources, and position will serve us well as we navigate the challenges ahead."

As the news spread throughout the kingdom, it reached every corner with the rapid efficiency of an established network. The streets of Rotengen buzzed with excitement as citizens and traders alike spoke of the transformation of their city into the new capital. The anticipation was high, and the prospect of prosperity and recognition filled the air.

In Frosthaven, the reaction was one of mixed emotions. The members of Frosthaven, already concerned about the shifting tides of power, received the news with varying degrees of surprise and apprehension. The Frosthaven council, accustomed to their prominent position, now faced a significant shift in their influence.

Meanwhile, Martin's decree included a crucial aspect for the kingdom's economic stability. "In addition," he announced, "to support the growth and fortification of Rotengen, I am instituting increased wages for blacksmiths and craftsmen who choose to relocate to our new capital. Their skills and contributions are vital to our plans."

This announcement was met with enthusiastic approval from the artisans and laborers. Many saw this as an opportunity for better wages and improved conditions, and a flood of blacksmiths, craftsmen, and their families began making their way to Rotengen. The promise of fair compensation and the chance to be part of the kingdom's transformative period drew skilled workers from across the realm.

As the hall began to empty, Martin remained at the center, reflecting on the significant changes underway. The decision to move the capital and invest in his people was a bold step toward securing Rotengen's place at the heart of the kingdom's future. He knew the path ahead would be challenging, but with determination and unity, he believed in the promise of a stronger, more prosperous realm.

---

General Drakos, her tall figure outlined against the dimming light of Snowshade, stood motionless atop a ridge, surveying the army camp below. The weak sunlight cast long, jagged shadows over the rows of soldiers preparing for deployment. Wrapped in heavy furs over her armor, she radiated authority, her piercing blue eyes as cold and sharp as the winter winds. Below her, newly established forces—the backbone of his fragile kingdom—moved with a sense of purpose. Their loyalty would be crucial in quelling the dissent that threatened to unravel Obelia.

Captain Vance stood beside her, a scroll in hand, waiting with the patience of a seasoned officer. His breath formed clouds in the frigid air, yet he remained unbothered by the biting cold. Drakos spoke without turning her gaze from the camp.

"Send the first battalion to Snowfalll Ridge," she commanded, her voice low and firm. "Lord Anwen needs reinforcements to maintain order in the plains. The roads may be thawing, but that only gives the bandits more opportunities to strike."

Vance nodded, swiftly recording the orders.

"Second battalion to Frostmarsh Keep," Drakos continued, her tone unwavering. " The marshlands are teetering on the brink of rebellion. I want those agitators stamped out before they can spread further."

Another swift note from Vance, his eyes briefly darting to the general as she paused.

"And send two companies to Ironstone Hold. The mines are essential for the king's plans. The iron and coal must continue to flow, and I won't tolerate any disruptions."

Vance hesitated for a moment before asking, "And what of Frostpine Hold?"

Drakos finally turned to face him, her expression as unreadable as ever. "Leave them for now. He'll fall in line once he sees the consequences for those who defy us. But I want every region secured. We can't risk an uprising while Martin consolidates his power in Rotengen."

Captain Vance gave a sharp nod and hurried off to relay the orders. Drakos watched him disappear into the camp, her thoughts already racing ahead. Martin's decision to declare Rotengen the capital had been bold, but it was bound to spark unrest. It was her task to ensure no rebellion—no matter how small—would jeopardize the king's grip on the throne.

As she gazed out over the snow-covered expanse, her hands clenched into fists.

"Let them try," she muttered, her breath freezing in the cold. "We'll crush them."