Chapter 193 – Princess Trelinka

Dunke City was a northern city in the Dillon Kingdom. Due to its proximity to the perilous yet monster-rich Howling Mountains, it had once become a gathering place for adventurers across the kingdom.

Beyond its identity as a “starter town,” Dunke City also served as the headquarters of the “Glory Army.” After Princess Trelinka’s uprising, the first recruits of the Glory Army, including her two most vital lieutenants, hailed from this very city.

Yet now, this typically bustling city was steeped in pervasive sorrow and desolation. Since its inception, the Glory Army had not secured a single victory, only suffering continuous defeats.

Morale within the Glory Army was critically low. They had sacrificed much, only to be slandered as rebels by the Kingdom’s “Church Faction.” Most chillingly, even the King had sided with the Church of Dawn. Were it not for Princess Trelinka’s immense prestige among the troops, this army—fighting for a kingdom that had abandoned them—would likely have disintegrated from sheer despair.

If the atmosphere in Dunke City was one of sorrow, then Dunke Keep at its heart was a bastion of utter hopelessness.

In the strategy room of Dunke Keep, Princess Trelinka stood silently, two exquisite parchments in hand. Though she maintained her composure, those nearby could see the faint tremors coursing through the young woman’s frame.

“Is this… true?”

After a prolonged silence, Princess Trelinka slowly lifted her head, golden tresses spilling over her shoulders. Glimmering tears fell, soaking both parchments.

The two documents contained separate reports.

The first was an urgent dispatch from the frontlines: General Serkes, a Formal-Level powerhouse leading one of the Glory Army’s “Five Main Forces,” had encountered a Church of Dawn sabotage team while advancing toward Mora City. While his 50,000-strong army should have effortlessly crushed the 500-strong squad, the opposite occurred—the entire force was annihilated by a single Holy Warrior.

Leading the enemy squad was a level 13 Holy Warrior. Serkes, newly promoted to Formal-Level, stood no chance and was decisively slain. His 50,000 troops were systematically eradicated by that lone Holy Warrior…

If the first report had brought Princess Trelinka to tears over the loss of her dear friend, the second intelligence from the Dillon Kingdom left her too numb for tears: The Church had dispatched five Formal-Level clerics, five hundred Apprentice-Level clerics, and twenty-five vials of “High-Density Holy Water” to the frontlines.

Reading this, Princess Trelinka understood true despair for the first time—a horrifying sensation of her very soul being engulfed, crushed, and shattered by darkness.

In that moment, she realized her powerlessness. She could conceive no strategy to preserve the lives of her loyal soldiers, nor any means to salvage the homeland she so fervently loved.She truly wanted to run to her room and cry loudly, just like those wronged children.

Seeing Princess Trelinka standing frozen for a long time, the Consul beside her—also the current lord of Dunke City, Formal-Level warrior Ex—stepped forward and solemnly knelt on one knee, declaring loudly:

“Your Highness Princess Trelinka, though we are indeed in crisis now, it is not yet time for despair. Two hundred thousand troops will steadfastly follow you, and I will surely shed every last drop of blood fighting for you, Your Highness!”

“That’s right, Your Highness. I am your sharpest blade. No matter how fearsome your enemies may be, I will cut them down one by one, even if it consumes my life and soul!”

From the shadows behind Trelinka emerged a petite figure—a Stalker in tight-fitting attire, gently draping a gem-adorned lady’s coat over the princess. Her voice was soft, but the resolve and determination within it were almost tangible.

“Lord Ex… do you truly believe… we can win?”

Princess Trelinka’s pale, slender fingers tightly clutched the coat draped over her shoulders as she murmured with dim eyes.

At this moment, Princess Trelinka truly looked like a helpless little girl, her slender frame protected by light armor appearing so fragile and powerless.

“Your Highness, we still have loyal and courageous armies, countless people who genuinely love the Dillon Kingdom supporting us, and the protection of Tyr, the God of Justice. Most importantly… we still have you! How could we not win?”

Ex’s voice echoed through the hall, causing even the lantern flames to flicker incessantly.

“Your Highness, do not worry!”

The female Stalker named Naya gently embraced Princess Trelinka, allowing the headache-ridden young princess to lean softly against her shoulder.

“Even if we fail, you still have us. No one can harm you before I die, I promise.”

“Thank you, Naya!”

Princess Trelinka whispered into Naya’s ear, then took several deep breaths.

She gently set down two pieces of parchment, wiped away her tears with her delicate, gloved hands, and within seconds, she had restored herself to the spirited, ever-vibrant princess.

“Lord Ex, Lord Naya, rest assured, I am fine. I am truly sorry—I am the most useless princess, not only letting things come to this but also failing to devise any solutions… truly… utterly useless.

But I will not abandon hope. My armies, my people, and countless others who await me will not allow me to give up easily. I firmly believe that justice will triumph over evil, and even in the deepest darkness, there must exist a brilliance called hope.”

Princess Trelinka spoke with determination—this was her command to herself. She was not one of those vase princesses waiting only for political marriages; she possessed an unyielding resolve.

The expressions of firmness and conviction returned to the princess’s exquisitely beautiful face. Were it not for her slightly reddened bright eyes, no one would have thought this princess had just been weeping in sorrow. She appeared exactly as everyone saw her: beautiful, valiant, resolute, and unbreakable.In truth, neither Princess Teleilinka nor the Glory Army had truly fallen into utter despair.

A young female officer in military uniform forcefully pushed open the doors of the council hall, solemnly knelt on one knee to perform a military salute, and then declared in a voice trembling with suppressed excitement and joy:

“Your Highness the Princess, according to the latest intelligence from the front lines, an unknown faction calling itself the ‘Nightwalker Alliance’ has attacked five churches, eliminating all five Formal-Level clergy and the lord of Redfruit City. All five hundred Apprentice-Level clergy have been slain, and twenty-five bottles of ‘High-Concentration Holy Water’ have been seized. Our crisis… has been resolved”!

(End of Chapter)