It was a rather refreshing morning. The summer sunlight fell on the ground like a shattered crystal, and a cool breeze was in the air. When the sun rises high enough in the sky, the dry heat will become unpleasant, but one can always avoid it by taking refuge in the shade. In the Kingdom of Pars, each of the four seasons had its own beautiful scenery and colors. But right now, the whole country stank of blood.

The blame for this did not lie with nature, but with foolish humans. The two-legged creatures who sang of peace, yet continued to fight, had covered the lands of Pars with blood in what should have been the beautiful early summer.

At the end of May in the year 321 of the Parsian calendar, troops of the Kingdom of Turan, north of the continental highway, rolled up gusts of sand and dust in a furious wave of people and horses rushing south. They broke through the borders of Pars and Sindhura, trying to take the wealthy countries of the continental highway into their own greedy hands.

The king of Sindhura was the young Rajendra, who had just formally declared his accession. Since last year, Rajendra and his half-brother, Gadhevi, had been fighting for the throne. Finally, with the help of Arslan, the crown prince of the neighboring Kingdom of Pars, Rajendra defeated his half-brother and took the throne. However, there were still many rebellious forces in Sindhura, and although the new king was sworn in, he had not yet had time to hold a formal coronation ceremony, and had to instead concentrate on reunifying the country. While he was busy, the “Rulers of the Grasslands”, Turan’s army, attacked again. For Rajendra, this was not a good thing.

In the past, Sindhura had joined forces with Turan to invade Pars. But now, the situation was different. Rajendra and Prince Arslan of Pars had made a pact.

“Go and tell Prince Arslan of Pars!”

He said to “tell” Arslan instead of “inform”, which was a typical Rajendra-style tactic. He knew that it would be difficult for his forces to fight against the feared army of Turan by themselves, but only because Sindhura and Pars were now allied, could they repel this strong, new enemy. Therefore, he could reasonably cry out “Prince Arslan, please help us!” to seek reinforcements. However, Rajendra’s way of thinking was a bit different.

“If the Turanian forces move south to invade Pars, Arslan, who is moving west to recapture the capital, will be in trouble. Then, if the fortress of Peshawar falls, Arslan will be in great danger. I’d better inform him as soon as possible.”

Rajendra’s analysis was certainly correct, but he did not say that the situation was also unfavorable to himself, only that he thought of doing a favor for Arslan. This was what made Rajendra’s plan so particular. Leaving aside this man’s peculiar character, as Rajendra sent an emergency envoy to Arslan, the invasion of the foreign army brought even more blood to the lands of Pars.

Rajendra’s envoy crossed the border and arrived at Peshawar before the morning of June 1st. The person in charge of Peshawar’s security was Lucian, who had been appointed by Arslan as the Satryup. After the envoy’s arrival, he gathered the main generals to explain the situation.

“Our mission is not to boast our martial valor and fight the enemy, but to ensure that His Highness the Crown Prince can take on the Lusitanian army without worries. We must maintain hold of Peshawar fortress.”

After displaying authority befitting one of his age and making his thoughts clear to his men, Lucian immediately laid down several plans. The fortress of Peshawar had 15,000 soldiers, plenty of food and weapons, and a well for water, so there was no shortage of supplies. The fortress was originally intended for the entire army to be stationed, so there was no need to worry about rations. Lucian chose a knight named Parazada and a specially selected horse to be the messengers to head west.

On the afternoon of the same day when the emissary Parazada left the city and headed west, the soldiers standing on Peshawar’s watchtower noticed a cloud of smoke on the northern horizon.

“The Turanian army is attacking!”

Lucian, upon receiving this report, immediately closed the fortress gates and ordered the soldiers to strengthen all fortifications.

“We absolutely cannot leave the fortress! If we hold for five to ten days, His Highness the Crown Prince will return with his army. Everyone just needs to do their best to defend the fortress!”

If anyone other than Lucian had said that, he would have been considered a “coward who retreats instead of fighting”. But since these words came from the well-respected Lucian, this argument was unheard. Sandbags were piled up against the inside of the tightly closed gate, and the Parsian army awaited the enemy’s attack.

Parazada, who had left Peshawar fortress as the emissary, was traveling on horseback towards the setting sun, racing to catch up with the army of Crown Prince Arslan, heading west on the continental highway, still fifty farsang away (about 250 kilometers). Before last year, Arslan and his party had worked very hard to avoid crossing paths with the enemy, yet now, there was no one else on the highway.

After passing through several places where the Parsian and Lusitanian armies had fought, Parazada traveled under the stars and continued to run non-stop into the next day. Although his horse had amazing speed and endurance, it was still mortal, and thus had physical limits. In the evening of the second day, the horse finally collapsed.

Although it was one of the most famous horses in Pars, after a day and night of nonstop running, it could no longer continue on. Parazada stood helplessly in place.

“Get going! Hey! Move!”

He desperately pulled on the reins, but the horse was already exhausted to the extreme. Although it tried to keep going in response, it suddenly fell to the ground with its front legs bent. Blood bubbled from its mouth, and the horse was already dead.

The Parsian had a strong fondness for this horse, but now he didn’t even have time to grieve its death. Parazada began to continue on foot.

Even as young and strong as he was, he was exhausted after the fierce ride, and his feet seemed to stumble. During that period of riding, he had not drank even a drop of water, let alone slept. He had barely gone a thousand paces when he saw the shadow of a lone rider further down the road.

He saw the man advancing slowly towards the west. When he noticed the man’s leisurely pace, a thought came to Parazada’s mind. He called out to the traveler, dragging his tired feet to catch up. The man on the horse regarded him with little interest.

“Did you say something?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Please lend me your horse!”

“Sorry, but I’m using it right now. If I lend it to you, won’t I have to walk?”

The man reminded him of a tiger, his left eye scarred over, while his right eye burned with a strong, powerful light and a hint of mockery. This one-eyed man was the former Marzban, Kubard. He was not worried at all, and seemed to be enjoying his trip.

“If you lend me your horse, I swear to pay you back.”

“Let’s talk about that when you really have something to offer!”

Taunted by the other party, Parazada could not help but get agitated. He felt that this one-eyed man was deliberately hindering his mission.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to resort to force.”

With his body and mind exhausted, Parazada drew his sword. Seeing the opponent’s glowing white blade, Kubard’s laid-back attitude remained unchanged.

“Don’t bother! I’m very strong,” he said. “And unless you want your loved ones to cry for you, it’s better to keep your own life!”

“Shut up! You braggart!”

While shouting wildly, Parazada swung his sword towards the man on the horse. However, the strong blow did not even reach the man’s body. The man, as if it was a great inconvenience for him, pulled his own greatsword from its sheath. Sparks flew in front of his eyes, and Parazada fell to the ground. Fatigue and hunger came all at once, and he could not get up. Anticipating the final blow from his opponent, Parazada used his last remaining strength and shouted: “How hateful! Will this be the end of Pars? Just because this unreasonable man won’t lend me his horse!”

When the one-eyed man heard these words, he stopped his horse as he was just about to leave, and looked back at Parazada over his broad shoulder.

“You say that I, Kubard, am an unreasonable man? You don’t even consider your own impetuous recklessness, and speak such nonsense.”

The name that the man had said flowed through Parazada’s body like a wave.

“Kubard? Lord Kubard, the famed Marzban?”

“No, we just have the same name. I am not such a great man!”

This was, of course, a joke, but Parazada didn’t seem to notice. He managed to brace his tired body and put his sword into its scabbard, forgetting even the pain from the blow to his head by Kubard, and lowered his head to the ground with both hands.

“I didn’t know it was Lord Kubard, so please forgive me for the rudeness. If your lordship does not understand, that’s only natural. However, there is a reason for my desperation. The fate of the nation of Pars is at stake..”

Kubard felt that Parazada was exaggerating a bit, but seeing his serious expression, he decided to hear him out. Afterwards, Kubard lent his horse to Parazada, and he proceeded on foot. He sat down on the roadside under a tree. If he just waited here, he would surely meet Prince Arslan’s army. Kubard decided to sleep under the tree, and settled down.