"The Blood Moon Horn!" excimed Count Piers, his voice filled with shock. "Impossible! This can't be! The Blood Moon Horn was sealed away in the Holy Land of the Papal State three hundred years ago. How could it have fallen into the hands of the Skull Society?"

  Recognizing the source of the eerie sound, Count Piers still found it hard to believe. A cursed artifact sealed away by the Church for three centuries had somehow ended up in the hands of the rebels.

  At that moment, he finally understood why the rule of the nobles in the counties of Wharton and Light had been so easily overthrown by the rebels.

  With the Blood Moon Horn, even the most docile serfs could be turned into killing machines. While their combat prowess might not be impressive, their sheer numbers could overwhelm even the strongest opponents.

  Just like now, the rebels fighting on the front lines were mostly serfs and impoverished townsfolk hastily recruited into the army. The Skull Society wouldn't care how many of them died.

  But the noble alliance was different. They were fighting with their own forces, and heavy losses could lead to their decline.

  Especially Count Piers' Crimson Knights. Each knight was carefully selected and underwent years of rigorous training before they could join the ranks.

  The cost of maintaining such a force was no small sum. Even for a powerful noble like Count Piers, it was a significant burden.

  Despite their formidable combat strength and reputation as one of the kingdom's top ten knight orders, the Crimson Knights only numbered a little over a thousand.

  Every loss was a blow to Count Piers. Now, he was forced to pit this elite force against the enemy's cannon fodder. It was a losing battle no matter how he looked at it.

  Even with the vast resources of the Dalton family, they couldn't sustain such losses indefinitely. For the smaller noble families, the situation was even more dire.

  "Send the signal! Order the entire garrison to march out. Raise the Blood Banner! This battle will be a fight to the death with the Skull Society!" roared Count Piers.

  There was no other choice. The Skull Society, armed with the Blood Moon Horn, posed too great a threat. If they didn't crush the cult before it grew stronger, it would be nearly impossible to deal with them ter.

  Three hundred years ago, the Blood Moon Cult had used this very artifact to plunge the entire continent of Ystnd into chaos. The once-mighty Sist Empire had fallen because of it.

  It was only through the combined efforts of the Church and the various nations of the continent that the Blood Moon Cult was finally eradicated.

  The Blood Moon Horn, being a divine artifact, could not be destroyed. It was sealed away by the Pope of that era using sacred magic and pced under the guard of the Papal State's Judgement Knights.

  Now, this dangerous artifact had appeared in his territory. If he didn't deal with it quickly, the major powers of the continent would descend upon his nds.

  The thought of various factions converging to fight over the Blood Moon Horn sent shivers down Count Piers' spine.

  Regret filled his heart. If he had known the Skull Society possessed the Blood Moon Horn, he would have led his knights to crush the rebellion the moment it began. He would never have allowed them to grow so powerful.

  But there was no use crying over spilled milk. He had to take action to prevent the worst-case scenario. Count Piers decided to go all in.

  The appearance of the Blood Banner, symbolizing a fight to the death, caused an uproar among the noble alliance. Everyone knew something monumental had happened.

  From this moment on, there would be no retreat. Either they would annihite the rebels, or they would be annihited. There was no third option.

  Every noble on the battlefield would face the same fate. Desertion would not only bring personal shame but also result in pursuit by the kingdom and potential repercussions for their families.

  Of course, the unlucky ones weren't just those on the battlefield. Nobles who failed to arrive on time would also face severe punishment from the kingdom.

  This sudden turn of events left Hudson inwardly cursing Count Piers for his recklessness. Going all-in from the start was a move that left him speechless.

  As a high-ranking count, to act like a gambler in a tavern, staking everything on a single bet, was simply too rash.

  Unable to comprehend the count's decision, Hudson had no choice but to accept it. After all, he was just a rookie knight.

  He was quite satisfied with his current life. With a little more effort, he could become a nded noble.

  Once that happened, he would have everything he wanted—property, wealth, and status. Women would come flocking to him, and he could live the rest of his life in comfort.

  Unless absolutely necessary, he had no intention of giving up his current identity and starting over somewhere else.