"Welcome, everyone, to Fort Ethel!"

  The cheerful greeting fell ft, failing to warm the hearts of the gathered nobles. They remained firmly seated on their horses, locking eyes with Count Piers, unwilling to be the first to back down. The atmosphere was palpably awkward.

  Seeing these nobles dare to stand up to their leader was an eye-opener for Hudson. Clearly, the status of nobles in this world was even higher than he had imagined.

  Despite holding both military and administrative power and boasting an impressive lineage, Count Piers was still unable to exert full control over the noble lords under his jurisdiction.

  "Governor, my apologies. We are still in our armor, so please forgive our ck of decorum."

  The speaker was Viscount Orn. His smug expression made it clear that his apology was anything but sincere.

  As a noble who had joined the battle midway, Elias Orn hadn't been directly affected by the earlier missteps. However, that didn't stop him from using the situation to his advantage.

  The unity dispyed by the small and medium-sized nobles was, at its core, a bid to secure their own interests. The rhetoric about seeking justice for the fallen was merely a facade.

  The world of nobility was ruthless, and power always dictated the distribution of benefits. In this game, the small and medium-sized nobles were inherently at a disadvantage against the great houses. To secure a share of the spoils, they had no choice but to band together.

  As the alliance that had suffered the most in this war, they should have been the most vocal. However, constrained by their limited strength, they could only lend their voices to the chorus.

  From the grim expression on Chelse's face, it was clear that he was filled with resentment. He wanted to speak up several times but ultimately chose to remain silent.

  While a Great Knight was impressive, that was only true among the lesser nobility. With his family's limited influence, Chelse couldn't afford to provoke Count Piers too much and had to relinquish the initiative.

  For Hudson, this was far from ideal. Without sufficient influence, the alliance would inevitably find itself at a disadvantage.

  Unfortunately, there was no way to change the situation. With none of his allies stepping forward, Hudson, as a rookie knight, couldn't afford to make waves either.

  After a tense standoff, Count Piers dismounted from his fming lion and said coldly, "The cursed artifact, the Blood Moon Horn, has appeared. You've all experienced its power firsthand during today's battle."

  "Impossible!"

  "With the Pope's seal and the Judgement Knights guarding it, who could have taken the Blood Moon Horn from under their noses?"

  Viscount Orn's voice was filled with disbelief.

  Hearing this shocking news, Hudson nearly fell off his horse. He was no longer the clueless newcomer he had been when he first arrived in this world. The name "Blood Moon Horn" was all too familiar to him.

  Among the few scrolls in his family's library, one was dedicated to this very artifact.

  Three hundred years ago, during the Blood Moon Catastrophe, the Coslow family alone had lost thirteen knights, and several branches of the family had declined.

  That such a cursed artifact, sealed away in the Papal State for three centuries, could resurface and wreak havoc again—and that he had the misfortune of encountering it—left Hudson speechless.

  Gncing at his companions, he noticed that aside from a few who were less well-read and still waiting for an expnation, the rest were breaking out in cold sweat.

  Seeing that he wasn't the only one shaken, Hudson felt slightly reassured. Even if the sky were to fall, the taller ones would bear the brunt of it. The Blood Moon Horn was clearly beyond the control of a small-time knight like him.

  On the surface, it seemed like the Skull Society was merely using a cursed artifact to cause chaos. However, the real issue was how the Blood Moon Horn had escaped the Papal State and ended up in the southeastern province.

  The implications were vast, potentially sparking a new conflict between royal authority and the Church. Not only was Hudson a mere bystander in this, but even a figure like Count Piers was likely treading on thin ice.

  "I, too, wish this were false. But you've all experienced today's battle. The moment the horn sounded, the soldiers turned into mindless killing machines. Doesn't that sound like the Blood Moon Horn from the legends?"

  Count Piers' response shattered any remaining illusions. Everyone knew that trouble was brewing.

  If the rebellion wasn't swiftly crushed, the entire southeastern province—and perhaps even the Kingdom of Alpha—could be dragged into the abyss. No one would be spared.

  Forgetting their earlier grievances, the nobles dismounted and followed Count Piers into the fortress.

  This was no time for petty disputes. With the Blood Moon Horn involved, many matters had to be discussed behind closed doors.

  As soon as they entered the hall, an impatient young noble blurted out, "Count, what does the Church have to say about this?"

  "It's too early for that. I've just sent messengers to inform both the kingdom and the Church. Even if the Papal State responds immediately, it will take at least a month for their reply to reach us.

  Distant water cannot quench a nearby fire. For now, we'll have to solve this problem on our own—unless you're willing to invite wolves into your home."

  Count Piers' answer only deepened the gloom on everyone's faces. With neither the Church nor the kingdom able to provide immediate assistance, their options were severely limited.

  In theory, they could seek help from nobles in neighboring provinces. However, the world of nobility was divided into factions.

  While they might fight among themselves over resources, the nobles of the southeastern province formed a united front against external threats. In the kingdom's political system, they were a cohesive group—what Hudson understood as a form of regional politics.

  In the capital, they banded together to counter the influence of nobles from other provinces. Locally, they maintained their own systems, ruling their territories as de facto kings.

  In the world of nobility, there was no such thing as a free lunch. Everything was based on equivalent exchange. Seeking help from neighboring nobles would inevitably come at a high cost.

  Unless absolutely necessary, no one was willing to take that step. No one wanted to see their neighbors meddling in their affairs.

  "Inviting wolves into our home is out of the question. The Skull Society alone isn't worth that price. The real problem is the Blood Moon Horn.

  Unless we deal with it, the enemy can keep arming cannon fodder to wear us down. You've all seen how frenzied the rebel soldiers became under the artifact's influence during today's battle.

  We lost dozens of nobles, yet we failed to eliminate the enemy's leadership. All we managed to kill were worthless pawns."

  Viscount Orn spoke with grave seriousness.

  The more one knew, the more one understood the need for caution. Compared to the lesser nobles, Orn clearly had a deeper understanding of the Blood Moon Horn.

  "Still, there's no need to despair. The Blood Moon Horn may be formidable, but after being sealed for over three centuries and continuously exposed to holy light, its power has undoubtedly waned.

  If it were at its peak, today's battle wouldn't have gone so smoothly. Legend has it that it could even raise the dead as undead soldiers.

  As long as we act swiftly and deny the enemy the time to gather strength and feed the artifact, we can still turn the situation around..."