Blood Festival
The time goes back a little, to Calutris, one of the towns on the eastern border of the Kingdom of Zain.
In the town, which is ruled by the Count of Calcifer, one of the Eight Eastern Families, many soldiers are gathering, ready to meet the forces of Raidorl.
The Counts of Calcifer have a number of mines in their territory, which produce fine gold and silver. The Count of Calcifer has a strong army, thanks to his ample resources, and his military strength surpasses that of his noble rivals, the Counts of Arbeil.
In the war against the Empire, the Counts of Calcifer were quick to turn against the enemy, but if they had stood as the shield of the kingdom, the Imperial forces would not have been able to easily approach the capital.
In the house of the Countess, one of the most powerful people on the eastern border, a meeting was being held.
“So here’s to our victory…..”
“Cheers!”
An elderly man takes the stage and raises his glass of wine to the crowd.
About twenty men and women are gathered in the large drawing room of the villa, tipping their glasses and savouring the sumptuous food on the table.
They are all dressed in fine suits and dresses, and the elegant manner in which they bring the food to their lips suggests that they are of the upper class.
They are all related to the three noble families of the Eastern Eight: the Counts of Calcifer, the Barons of Kyrgyzstan, and the Viscounts of Kubertos.
They gathered at Count Calcifer’s house in the middle of a victory party to confront the Raidorl’s army that was trying to purge them.
“Well, it’s hard to hold a party of this size even during the war…It’s the Count Calcifer after all, the great aristocrats have different financial power!”
“That’s true, Only a few noblemen in the palace have such financial power!!”
It was the Barons of Kyrgyzstan and the Viscountesses of Kubertos – the heads of the two families – who spoke with such blatant flattery.
“Ha-ha-ha. It’s no big deal. I’m just embarrassed that I didn’t have enough time to entertain you!”
The man who had proposed the toast smiled proudly and humbly.
The man with the romance grey hair pulled all the way back and dressed in a purple suit is called Brutus Calcifer.
He was the head of the Calcifer family and the organizer of this party.
“If we had more time to prepare, we could have thrown a party worthy of the Countess. If there’s no war after all.”
“You’re absolutely right!”
Count Calcifer’s words were followed by one of the guests of honour.
The aristocratic and rotund man snickered and spat out a few words of contempt.
“Empires, royal palaces, nations fighting each other, it’s a foolish thing to do! War is a bloody thing, unworthy of a man of our chosen blood.”
“Exactly! War is the work of barbarians. How unlucky we are to be involved in such a thing!”
They are all war critics, but they all believe that they are the chosen ones, born of noble blood.
They are not just normal people. They are people of noble blood who cannot be harmed.
It is because of this belief that they chose to surrender when the Empire tried to invade them.
He is proud to be a nobleman, but he does not want to do his duty as a nobleman.
They were never aware of this contradiction, because they never thought about it themselves.
“We are the chosen ones to rule this land, to be above the others! What is wrong with surrendering in order to survive? That Royal Family Zain……!”
Count Calcifer’s face contorts in anger.
The news had already reached the Count’s family that the Viscount Ulfert had been destroyed by the Royal Army.
It is also reported by a secret agent that the kingdom’s army is close at hand.
The Count bites his teeth in vexation at the prospect of the purge looming before him.
“Don’t think I’m going to be beaten in the same way as Ulfert, ……! A country prince, once banished, will be vanquished!”
“It is said that he has only five thousand enemies. …… No, the power of the Count of Calcifer will easily defeat him!”
“Yes, yes! Even more so with the help of the Barons of Kyrgyzstan and our own Viscount Kubertos! We have the advantage of the earth and the time of heaven! We will destroy the mere armies of the kingdom!”
“Oooh!”
The guests raise their cups in the air as the three noblemen speak.
The guests slurp up the wine and eat the food.
The party is in full swing. The victory party of the treacherous nobles becomes even more heated, and the self-proclaimed noblemen, red-faced with wine, shout loudly about their victory.
And then…
“Sorry I’m late, Father.”
A young man walked into the party, which was already at the height of its excitement.
He wore a white suit and a dinner jacket with a red rose on his chest, as if he were at a wedding.
“What’s taking you so long, Brad?”
“I’m sorry, I’m a little busy with work…….”
The young man called Brad bends his back politely and bows his head.
Brad Calcifer.
He was the only son of Brutus Calcifer, and the next head of the Count’s family.
The Count sniffed and offered his son a glass of wine as he bowed his head, shaking his golden tresses.
“Bah, fine…you also take a drink, this is a victory party for our army! As the heir to the Count’s throne, you must show yourself worthy of it!
“Yes, I will.”
Brad takes the glass from his father’s hand.
He does not sip it, but looks at the entrance of the party hall with his eyes narrowed like a thread.
Blood Festival
The time goes back a little, to Calutris, one of the towns on the eastern border of the Kingdom of Zain.
In the town, which is ruled by the Count of Calcifer, one of the Eight Eastern Families, many soldiers are gathering, ready to meet the forces of Raidorl.
The Counts of Calcifer have a number of mines in their territory, which produce fine gold and silver. The Count of Calcifer has a strong army, thanks to his ample resources, and his military strength surpasses that of his noble rivals, the Counts of Arbeil.
In the war against the Empire, the Counts of Calcifer were quick to turn against the enemy, but if they had stood as the shield of the kingdom, the Imperial forces would not have been able to easily approach the capital.
In the house of the Countess, one of the most powerful people on the eastern border, a meeting was being held.
“So here’s to our victory…..”
“Cheers!”
An elderly man takes the stage and raises his glass of wine to the crowd.
About twenty men and women are gathered in the large drawing room of the villa, tipping their glasses and savouring the sumptuous food on the table.
They are all dressed in fine suits and dresses, and the elegant manner in which they bring the food to their lips suggests that they are of the upper class.
They are all related to the three noble families of the Eastern Eight: the Counts of Calcifer, the Barons of Kyrgyzstan, and the Viscounts of Kubertos.
They gathered at Count Calcifer’s house in the middle of a victory party to confront the Raidorl’s army that was trying to purge them.
“Well, it’s hard to hold a party of this size even during the war…It’s the Count Calcifer after all, the great aristocrats have different financial power!”
“That’s true, Only a few noblemen in the palace have such financial power!!”
It was the Barons of Kyrgyzstan and the Viscountesses of Kubertos – the heads of the two families – who spoke with such blatant flattery.
“Ha-ha-ha. It’s no big deal. I’m just embarrassed that I didn’t have enough time to entertain you!”
The man who had proposed the toast smiled proudly and humbly.
The man with the romance grey hair pulled all the way back and dressed in a purple suit is called Brutus Calcifer.
He was the head of the Calcifer family and the organizer of this party.
“If we had more time to prepare, we could have thrown a party worthy of the Countess. If there’s no war after all.”
“You’re absolutely right!”
Count Calcifer’s words were followed by one of the guests of honour.
The aristocratic and rotund man snickered and spat out a few words of contempt.
“Empires, royal palaces, nations fighting each other, it’s a foolish thing to do! War is a bloody thing, unworthy of a man of our chosen blood.”
“Exactly! War is the work of barbarians. How unlucky we are to be involved in such a thing!”
They are all war critics, but they all believe that they are the chosen ones, born of noble blood.
They are not just normal people. They are people of noble blood who cannot be harmed.
It is because of this belief that they chose to surrender when the Empire tried to invade them.
He is proud to be a nobleman, but he does not want to do his duty as a nobleman.
They were never aware of this contradiction, because they never thought about it themselves.
“We are the chosen ones to rule this land, to be above the others! What is wrong with surrendering in order to survive? That Royal Family Zain……!”
Count Calcifer’s face contorts in anger.
The news had already reached the Count’s family that the Viscount Ulfert had been destroyed by the Royal Army.
It is also reported by a secret agent that the kingdom’s army is close at hand.
The Count bites his teeth in vexation at the prospect of the purge looming before him.
“Don’t think I’m going to be beaten in the same way as Ulfert, ……! A country prince, once banished, will be vanquished!”
“It is said that he has only five thousand enemies. …… No, the power of the Count of Calcifer will easily defeat him!”
“Yes, yes! Even more so with the help of the Barons of Kyrgyzstan and our own Viscount Kubertos! We have the advantage of the earth and the time of heaven! We will destroy the mere armies of the kingdom!”
“Oooh!”
The guests raise their cups in the air as the three noblemen speak.
The guests slurp up the wine and eat the food.
The party is in full swing. The victory party of the treacherous nobles becomes even more heated, and the self-proclaimed noblemen, red-faced with wine, shout loudly about their victory.
And then…
“Sorry I’m late, Father.”
A young man walked into the party, which was already at the height of its excitement.
He wore a white suit and a dinner jacket with a red rose on his chest, as if he were at a wedding.
“What’s taking you so long, Brad?”
“I’m sorry, I’m a little busy with work…….”
The young man called Brad bends his back politely and bows his head.
Brad Calcifer.
He was the only son of Brutus Calcifer, and the next head of the Count’s family.
The Count sniffed and offered his son a glass of wine as he bowed his head, shaking his golden tresses.
“Bah, fine…you also take a drink, this is a victory party for our army! As the heir to the Count’s throne, you must show yourself worthy of it!
“Yes, I will.”
Brad takes the glass from his father’s hand.
He does not sip it, but looks at the entrance of the party hall with his eyes narrowed like a thread.
