"Must you do this, My Lord?" Old Levi asked while hesitantly fastening the leather belts across the ink coloured gambeson on Luka.
Luka observed the old man and shook his head. "Levi." He waited for him to look up, then continued, "Even a reclusive failure like me understands how important my father's heroic figure was to the people of this territory."
He spoke louder, spreading his arms.
"Should his weak, sickly son take his place and cower in fear at the back. Who would have the courage to fight on, against hardships, famine and the constant goblin attacks with such a pathetic Lord?"
Memories of his old battles resurfaced when the lords became greedy, reckless or foolish; it was the people who suffered, not them. "Be they knights, townsmen or militia, everything starts with the Lord's movement and attitude!"
Levi's murky eyes shone each time Luka spoke, his head unconsciously nodding, and yet he still voiced his opposition. "But you have not trained sufficiently... My Lord, forgive me, but I must attest this is a grave mistake!
Luka chuckled, unable to deny it and added.
"If Galatea were here in your place, she might say the same thing."
He patted Old Levi's shoulders, the leather gloves slightly uncomfortable, but the old man pleaded that he wear them. "Levi, there might be second chances, but I know for certain there won't be a third chance."
"My Lord..."
"Levi, trust in your Lord. I will show you the future of Babylon."
Though his gaze fleetingly glanced once again towards the mainland of the human territories, set in the central plains of Eden, surrounded by countless continents and races waiting for them to show weakness.
'The elves feigned alliance to take our bountiful forests under their 'protection' and the dwarves abused our resources in return for shoddy weapons!'
Though he would not wage war on these races without reason.
Luka would never allow them to have such free rein in the Human domain this time.
"I must do this, to earn the trust of the knights, to see with my eyes firsthand what state our troops are in... not to mention those bandits turned militia."
"I trust in your plan. You were always a smart boy. I just..."
"Worry for me, right?"
"...You are like a grandson to me."
Old Levi froze, his eyes slowly scanning Luka's face, both of them knowing such a thing couldn't be said in public due to their different status.
"Worry not. I promise to come home, no matter if I have to flee like a coward."
"Haa... What will I do with you? You know, people used to say you didn't resemble your father. Alas, seeing you now, I can attest the previous Lord would be looking down with a radiant smile."
'I don't know about that...' Luka thought of the endless void after he perished, and the fact that he stole his son's body.
Clip-Clop!
Suddenly, the wild sound of hooves aggressively hitting the ground thundered through the preparation room.
"Oh, is this my steed?"
Luka and Levi turned to the entrance, seeing Zack pulling along a wild horse with an impressive black mane and large, sparkling eyes. Thick muscles pulsed underneath the beast's skin with a gruesome scar across its right cheek.
Yet, it carried a bizarre grace.
The sound of hooves hitting the ground disturbed them.
Zack appeared haggard as he held the reins tightly.
"M'Lord, this here is a steed given the name Furia by your father. It is a rare female steed, born from a demon beast and one of our warhorses during a campaign to the south. She is picky and has never let anyone ride her." He paused.... "But she always follows us into battle, even without a rider."
Although he complained, Luka could feel the sense of awe and respect Zack held for the beautiful horse.
"Furia? I see, a beautiful name for a beautiful horse."
"Neighh!!"
Furia lifted her front hooves before snorting as if to assert, "Of course I am!"
She hesitantly backed up the moment Luka came closer, but he didn't give up, slowly lifting his arms and letting her see his hands.
Furia sniffed him and let him stroke the side of her face, his touch delicate and almost affectionate, like touching a treasure.
She tapped her hooves on the cobblestone with a loud neigh before cautiously creeping closer, finally nudging him with her nose and flicking her head back.
"Eh?!"
Zack's voice of astonishment filled the room as Luka stroked across her shoulders, then, without a word of help, hopped up. His left foot easily slipped into the silver fixture as he mounted her in a smooth, trained movement.
"Young Lord... when did you learn to ride horses?"
Luka gasped and realised his mistake.
But then remembered a saying his old friend from the Gauls said.
"If a man cannot mount a lady, then what good is he?"
Lucifer at the time didn't quite understand it, and even now, the subtle meaning swept over his head. But with the mention of mounting a lady, the eyes of Old Levi beamed as he muttered, "The lord has interest in women..."
Luka didn't pay attention; he sat atop Furia, the height a little nostalgic as he pulled the reins towards the doorway. "Let's go, Furia!"
Snap!
The obsidian horse took off like a falcon hunting a mouse, her hooves galloping with a reverberating Da-Da-dan, Da-Da-dan.
In seconds, the pair left the Lord's mansion, heading towards the town gate, wind threading through his hair like a mother's affectionate touch. Luka looked handsome, his face normally hidden by messy bangs and sidelocks finally revealed.
"Oh my?! Is that the Lord's son?"
"When did he become so dashing... is Old Levi still arranging his maids?"
Oblivious, Luka raced through the town gates, one hand stroking the silky yet rough fur of Furia's mane, another grasping the reins, delicately controlling her with subtle gestures. This type of steed didn't listen to forceful buffoons.
'This damn thing is a little stiff...'
He shifted, unfastening two buckles from the gambeson around his neck as memories of learning to ride horses flashed before his eyes.
'Iris and Galatea looked so confused when I asked...'
Divine beings weren't supposed to interact with the races so closely.
Lucifer was just a strange and whimsical archangel who wanted to know them, humans. At first, he hated them, feeling his father had abandoned him to make them...
But those feelings faded as he watched them live their short, passionate lives.
'Forget it!'
Shaking off the melancholy mood, he snapped the reins once again, galloping at full speed to the makeshift encampment.
.
.
.
"Is that the Lord?!"
"Oh my, he can ride a horse!"
Luka reached the makeshift encampment on horseback, which shocked the militia, knights and gathered townsmen. 'Well, a sickly child might seem useless to them. He cantered Furia to the gathering, where all the hunters and townsmen awaited him.
'Fifty? Not bad.'
The population of his territory was close to six thousand, but he hadn't done a full census yet to arrange things better.
'Let's invite surrounding serfs and peasants after this battle.'
He dismounted and let Furia remain free. The haughty maiden snorted at him and galloped away with a loud neigh.
"Enjoy yourself, Partner."
Without wasting time, his smile faded as he turned to face the townsmen.
"Greetings, I thank you for coming this far."
Their reactions seemed confused, a little shocked that he would thank them for something so simple, but it was just to break the ice.
"I mentioned my goals before."
"Those unwilling to lay down their lives for the prosperity of Babylon, please return and remain a baker, farmer, or shit shoveler for all eternity." He gauged their reactions, "But to those willing to take a step forward, risk your lives and enjoy a life of much higher luxuries and benefits..."
The townsmen appeared agitated by his words.
Luxury was quite appealing to those living at the bottom rung of society and offered more to the people than mere honour.
'After all, only one in a thousand men is truly honourable and just.'
Luka took a deep breath and spread his arms, "Those who wish to become a new force, follow me now! Become my private troops, serve me as soldiers, although the discipline will be harsh, the honour, pay and women will be just as good!"
Old Levia and Zack arrived earlier, mixing with the crowd before he started speaking, but the one most enthralled by the current Luka was Galatea. She watched him in silence, never looking away nor able to stop her trembling body.
"He was so weak and needed me for everything... Is this really the Luka I knew?" Though she appeared uncomfortable, her faintly flushed cheeks gave another reason for her reaction. "And yet... why do I not dislike this new him?"
The townsmen looked at each other, some scared, others nervous, but Luka never expected to win them over this easily and raised his hand to quell their anxious questions and words.
"I am not asking you to fight tooth and nail against goblins; consider them prey, like rabbits or deer. With your archery and hunting skills, please rain arrows down on those who have made us suffer for generations!"
.
.
.
As Luka continued to indoctrinate the townsmen, a slight distance away, several knights with better quality armour with slight blemishes watched with keen stares and folded arms, listening to everything Luka told the townsmen.
"He's doing well."
"Aye, a few mistakes, but to think Lord Luka was so smart."
An older knight with a grey beard and several scars stepped beside them, his voice low and raspy. "He's a bit rough around the edges, a long way to go. But this is quite nostalgic, when it was his father, it was us knights, and his son wishes to make more changes." Once the man spoke, the other knights panicked as he stroked his wispy beard.
"Knight Captain!?"
"Captain Alverain!"
This man was Gerard de Alverain, Galatea's grandfather.
"At ease, my granddaughter is the captain now, fools." He scolded the knights, but peeked at his granddaughter with a smile. "It seems pairing them might not be such an impossible idea anymore, the little lord finally left his father's shadow... and my stone of a grandchild seems to have noticed."
After Luka finished speaking, he quickly rushed forward with his arm in the air.
"Lord Luka, I volunteer myself and my men to protect those who choose to become soldiers; we will become their escorts."
With a single sentence, the nervous hunters and townsmen discarded their fears and stepped forward one by one.
"I am willing to serve the Lord!"
"Accept me into your service, M'Lord!"
"Lacking as I am..."
Luka glanced at the old man, a familiar face from his memories, the grandfather of Galatea, a man he'd never met and a source of one of his knight's traumas.
'I swear to give you an honourable death, Gerard.'