Chapter 39: The First Ceasefire Agreement

As of the year 1064—

The war, which had raged for thirty-four years, had already claimed over fifty million lives. Further data had surpassed the limits of what this era could even calculate. Most of these deaths were caused not by direct combat, but by famine, disease, and violence brought about by the war.

In regions such as the Holy Federation, populations were reduced proportionally.

What, after all, was sustaining this war?

And yet, it simply would not end.

As if it were a curse cast upon this land by the supreme god himself. Two religions of the same origin, with the same shared faith, had sparked a war of such devastating scale, plunging the world into a cycle of blood and fire.

Perhaps it wasn't a curse cast by god.

Perhaps god had long since departed.

Both Brittany and Hohenstein were locked in brutal meat-grinder battles, as if competing to prove that the Brittany Campaign was not the most savage massacre in existence. The struggle in Hohenstein had already eclipsed Brittany’s carnage, dragging everything into an even bloodier tug-of-war.

The commanders of the Holy Federation were outright madmen. They gave no consideration to the war’s future. All that remained was relentless assault.

They attempted to adopt the rapid maneuver warfare developed the previous year by the Kingdom of Fontaine.

But Fontaine had the capacity to utilize such tactics—thanks to its greater numbers, superior flexibility, and more advanced intelligence networks. The Holy Federation, by contrast, fielded black dragon cavalry units not unlike Albion’s.

To address this gap, General Carlwitz, Chief of Staff of the Holy Federation Army, modified the tactic—using the black dragon cavalry’s superior firepower and durability to suppress and hunt targets. In essence, it meant concentrating large numbers of dragon cavalry to break through critical points.

The result of this method was a dramatically higher death rate—essentially treating elite troops like expendable foot soldiers and sending them straight into the grinder.

It was as if they had no concern at all for the continuation of the war.

This was the Holy Federation’s true all-in: a final, all-consuming gamble to win everything in a single, decisive campaign.

This, in turn, forced Marshal Wrangel, Chief of Staff of the Skandinavian Empire’s Army, to abandon Dornhein.

...

And at that moment, something happened in Waldenburg.

The Grand Duke of Waldenburg was assassinated.

In a land already soaked in blood and fire, the death of a mere grand duke by assassination stirred no waves.

But it seemed this was only the beginning.

Assassinations began targeting the noble elite across the Duchy of Waldenburg. The culprits had no discernible motives, choosing their targets at random. In just two days, five people had already been killed.

The newly appointed Grand Duke of Waldenburg, twenty-two-year-old Erich Friedrich von Waldenburg, had already taken up a firearm and stormed to the doors of the Holy Federation’s diplomatic mission—

Pointing the barrel directly at Ning Luo.

“Was it you? Was it you who did this?!”

Ning Luo gently set down the document in his hand.

He looked up at the youth before him—his contemporary in age, but of an entirely different stature.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what you mean, Your Grace.”

“Don’t play dumb with me! It was you... you murdered my uncle! I know it was you!!”

The Grand Duke of Waldenburg roared at Ning Luo.

He indeed had no proof that Ning Luo had done it—but since the arrival of the Holy Federation’s diplomatic envoys, the assassinations in Waldenburg had begun. Even a fool could piece it together.

“I didn’t know your uncle.”

“You murdered my uncle, and now you claim you didn’t even know him? Don’t you think that’s shameful?!”

Ning Luo sat upright in his wheelchair.

Clearly, Ning Luo was the one seated, and the Grand Duke of Waldenburg the one standing—

Yet it felt as though Ning Luo was the one looking down on him.

“I see. So what?”

“You murdered my family—and you ask me what?!”

“Those who died because of me—directly or indirectly—number in the tens of thousands. Even if your relative was among them, do you expect me to remember every single name?”

“You—!”

Before the new Grand Duke of Waldenburg could finish his sentence—

Ning Luo cut him off.

“In the war that has dragged on for three or four years across the Holy Federation, tens of millions were murdered. Were they killed by your uncle? Or was it your grandfather who started this war? They deserved to die.”

“You think I won’t pull the trigger?!”

The Grand Duke of Waldenburg shouted at Ning Luo, his voice hoarse and furious.

But Ning Luo remained calm.

“You certainly can. And I assure you, Your Grace—

You would only repeat the same mistakes your predecessors made.

Your forebears started this war. And you, you will bring ruin upon Waldenburg.”

“You—!”

...

The Grand Duke gripped the gun with both hands, his fingers trembling uncontrollably.

In the end—

He lowered the weapon.

A pain beyond repair flowed through his heart.

He had to understand—what Ning Luo said was reality. And precisely because it was reality, it hurt. Even after his family was killed, he still had to kneel. Still had to endure.

The moment he became the Grand Duke of Waldenburg,

He had to become responsible for all the people of the duchy.

He could no longer just be himself.

Waldenburg had to end the war.

Enough people had died.

So many that not even the death of a Grand Duke meant anything anymore.

In order to end this war—

The Grand Duke of Waldenburg had to give something up.

Ning Luo’s right hand rested on the armrest of his wheelchair, his fingers lightly supporting his chin.

“The pain you feel—

Is nothing compared to what this land has endured.

And now that you are Grand Duke,

You will come to feel even deeper pain.

This is only the beginning. There will never be an end.”

“What do you really want?”

The Grand Duke bit down hard and asked through gritted teeth.

“Schwarztal and Eisenwald have already surrendered.

As long as Waldenburg also surrenders, I, on behalf of the Holy Federation, will promise your people religious freedom.”

“You murder my family,

And then grant us mercy?”

“I must remind you once again,

Your Grace—

An accusation without proof is slander.”

Bang!

The Grand Duke slammed both hands onto the table before Ning Luo.

His eyes were bloodshot, glaring directly at him.

“I don’t need proof. I don’t trust anyone from the Holy Federation.”

“I understand. That is precisely why I am not here solely representing the Holy Federation this time—

I also represent the Empire of Albion.”

“What do you mean?”

...

That was the true purpose of Ning Luo’s identity—

To remind the Grand Duke of Waldenburg that the Empire of Albion and the Holy Federation had already formed an alliance.

This was meant to be the final straw that would break Waldenburg.

However—

The younger Erich Friedrich von Waldenburg was precisely the kind of person Ning Luo had been waiting for.

The death of the old Grand Duke,

And the rise of the new one,

Would dismantle the old power structure—

Only then could Waldenburg be forced to surrender.

On July 30, 1064—

The Duchy of Waldenburg,

The Duchy of Schwarztal,

The Duchy of Eisenwald,

and the Holy Federation

signed a ceasefire agreement.