Yet the Aoshan Clan was defeated in the duel by the Iron Whip Clan, who had secretly employed treacherous tactics. Worse still, their chieftain was killed, and the clan was exiled to the remote cusp of the endless sea. Zuo 'er Yin Yue, the chieftain's daughter—also known as Echo—was sold as a top-tier slave to a merchant in Bishui Harbor due to her striking beauty.
Though adopted by the Aoshan Clan, Iron Axe was never recognized as a true Mojin by the Sha people due to his mixed heritage, thus avoiding exile. His exceptional martial skills, however, drew the attention of rival clans eager to recruit him. Grateful for the clan leader's years of protection and determined to save Echo, Iron Axe firmly rejected their offers. After enduring a grueling journey, he finally reached Bishui Harbor, only to discover Echo had already been sold to the capital of Graycastle.
Later, one was rescued by the Witch and became a member of the Guild of the Common; the other, disheartened, journeyed westward to Graycastle. To their surprise, the two unexpectedly reunited in Border Town.
"What do you plan to do," Roland mused, "return to the Southernmost Lands with Echo and revive the Aoshan Clan?" "No, Your Highness!" Iron Axe knelt on one knee. "I swore to the Three Gods that I would serve you for the rest of my life. I was just... overwhelmed by emotion when I met Lord Silvermoon, and failed to control myself. Please punish me!" "What about you?" Prince turned to Echo. "Do you want to avenge your people?" Echo knelt again. "I thought of revenge when I awakened as a Witch, but that thought has long faded." She bit her lip. "Please let me stay... I have nowhere else to go." "I understand," Roland said calmly. "Stand up now. You don't need to do this. I haven't said anything yet." He paused briefly before shifting his tone. "Actually, helping you avenge yourselves isn't impossible." "What?" Iron Axe stared wide-eyed, unable to believe his ears. Echo showed little reaction, clearly no longer holding any hope of returning to Iron Sand City.
"Of course not now," Roland waved his hand. This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision. In the Iron Axe's account of the Far South, he'd heard tales of extraordinary phenomena—the land was scorching dry, its environment bizarre and unfathomable. The most striking were the orange flames erupting from the earth's depths, capable of burning for decades without dying out. Near these fiery vents, one could often spot dramatic ground fissures. At their base, the black River of the Netherworld flowed ceaselessly.
Whether it was the Crimson Fire or the River of the Netherworld, Roland couldn't help but think: wasn't this oil? And it was oil flowing openly in the wild! The industrial importance of this black liquid was self-evident—modern warfare often stemmed from it, and oil price fluctuations could sway the fortunes of nations, even reshaping the world order. If he could leverage the Aosha Clan's affairs to intervene in the Far South, he might secure a stable oil supply.
Roland, however, has no time to deal with the disputes in the remote regions now. He can only leave a pretext for later, when he plans to stage a 'time-honored' drama.
"Once I ascend the throne, I will seek justice for you," Roland commanded, halting the iron axe that was about to strike again. "But your actions today violated the First Army's discipline. You're confined for two days. Take this as a lesson." "Yes, Your Highness," the iron axe replied with excitement.
"Then the training continues," Roland said to Chief Knight, "and you'll be in charge of the next formation march." Carter nodded in agreement.
...
Brian had expected today's training to end there, but everyone remained seated in the practice area, with no one leaving alone.
Before Carter left with Prince, he had ordered everyone to stay put and rest, not disband the group.
If he had been in the patrol unit he used to be with, such a scene would have been unimaginable.
"Lord Knight, do you think Lord Iron Axe will show up again?" asked Nail, a fellow squad member, "His recent actions really startled me." "How many times have I told you not to call me Lord?" Brian corrected. "In the First Army, you should address me as Squad Leader. Your Highness has always insisted on using military ranks." After being knighted by the Fourth Prince, his standing in the unit skyrocketed. While most avoided him, Nail—the short man who had transitioned from the mines to the army—often sought him out. According to Nail, he had even spoken closely with Lord Roland, Your Highness, not just Knight.
"Such a thing... Your Highness wouldn't hold him too accountable, would you?" Though he said this, Brian remained uncertain. He had witnessed a civilian accidentally ramming the former Lord's carriage and being stabbed to death by guards. As an outsider, Iron Axe's act of kneeling before the Prince to worship a woman and addressing her as' Chief' was clearly a breach of decorum.
"I suppose so," Nails nodded repeatedly. "I even spoke with Your Royal Highness myself. He and those Nobles—well..." He scratched his head, struggling to find the right words. "They look similar, but feel completely different." Brian, too, feared for Iron Axe's safety. After over a month of intensive training, he had developed deep respect for the alien. His exceptional skills and tireless guidance during field exercises, particularly in teaching tent-building techniques, had greatly benefited everyone. In Knight's eyes, Iron Axe was even more qualified than Carter Lannis to command the First Army.
"They're here!" Nails nudged Brian's arm. "Hmm, Lord Iron Axe seems absent." Before Brian could dwell on it, Carter had already ordered everyone to form up and stand in their assigned ranks. Then Roland Your Highness stepped forward to address the troops: "The woman beside me is a witch named Echo, a long-lost... relative of Iron Axe. He violated military discipline by disrupting formation and was sentenced to two days of confinement per regulations. Let me reiterate: you're the regular army. Obedience to orders and discipline are paramount! Understood?" "Yes! Your Highness!" Brian shouted in unison with the others. Hearing Iron Axe's punishment, he felt a wave of relief. Nails beside him gave him a knowing grimace.
The next training session will be guided by Echo. Her ability lies in mimicking various sounds—from instruments to horns and drums. The marching tune she will play next will be your command to advance! Everyone must march in unison to the drumbeats, keeping the formation as straight as possible. At this point, Your Highness paused. "On the battlefield, Echo will stand behind you. She is the banner of the First Army, the soul of the musketeers! You must do everything in your power to protect her. Now... let's all familiarize ourselves with the tune." What was a marching tune? Brian listened, puzzled. Was it some soft, folk-style melody played occasionally in taverns? Could such a gentle tune really command the troops forward?
But when the melody he had never heard before echoed from the mouthpiece, he instantly grasped Your Highness's meaning—the rhythmic drumbeats made him want to step out, and the lively tune kindled his fighting spirit.
The so-called march song is a battle anthem that boosts morale and inspires everyone to keep moving forward on the battlefield.