Final Regression of The Legendary Swordmaster Chapter 62

One month passed after the day blood and fire tore through the Marquis territory. In that short span, Edward Vistro’s name had changed from a neglected noble son to a figure spoken in whispers across the Luminaris Kingdom. The land itself bore scars from the battle. Fields were burned. Stone walls were cracked. The old manor that once stood as a symbol of the Vistro family’s authority had been reduced to rubble during the clash with the Marquis and the Duke. Yet time did not stop, and neither did Edward.

Reconstruction began almost immediately. Edward ordered local laborers to be hired instead of bringing workers from other territories. He paid them directly, in full and on time, which earned him quiet loyalty from the people. The manor was rebuilt with thicker walls, deeper foundations, and fewer decorative excesses. The armed structure of the house was also reshaped. The old guard, loyal to the previous Marquis and tangled in internal factional struggles, was dissolved. In its place, Edward formed smaller, more disciplined units, each answering directly to officers chosen for competence rather than lineage.

For the dead, Edward did not cut corners. According to Luminaris tradition, proper burials were sacred, especially for those who died in service. More than one hundred knights and thirty maids had lost their lives in the crossfire of the battle. Graves were dug with care. Names were recorded. Families were informed and compensated with what little liquid wealth Edward could spare. Black banners were raised across the territory, and for three days the land observed mourning rites. Edward attended the ceremony, standing among commoners rather than above them. That image lingered in many minds longer than any speech could have.

Damian Vistro, Edward’s half brother and the second son of the household, was among the dead. So was the Marquise, Edward’s stepmother, who had ruled the manor with a fake smile and a cruel hand. Their deaths closed one Chapter of the Vistro family in a way no historian would dare soften. There was no public celebration, no visible grief, only a sense that a tangled knot had been cut by force.

Sara Vistro survived only because tradition placed her far from the battlefield. As Edward’s sister and a noble lady of marriageable standing, she had been staying at the fourth royal prince’s manor as custom demanded during the engagement period. Fiona, the maid assigned to Edward by his father, was also absent, having returned to her small hometown weeks earlier. Neither witnessed the battle, but the rumors of it aftermath traveled fast. By the time word reached them, the story had already been twisted into something darker and more dangerous.

The kingdom’s reaction was swift and calculated. The royal court issued an arrest warrant for Edward Vistro, charging him with regicide by proxy, treason, and unlawful use of forbidden arts. In absentia, they sentenced him to death. The Church of Light moved just as quickly, declaring Edward a heretic accused of using demonic spells to overpower a Duke of the Archmage realm. The claim was false, built on fear and convenience rather than evidence, but truth rarely mattered when panic spread through halls.

Yet despite the severity of these declarations, the royal court did not act with full force. No royal army marched on the Vistro territory. No Archmage descended from the capital to erase Edward from existence. Instead, silence followed the proclamations, broken only by controlled pressure. The reason was simple, though unspoken. Luminaris could not afford to show weakness.

The kingdom stood at a fragile balance. External powers watched closely, especially neighboring human kingdoms and non human domains waiting for signs of instability. An open civil conflict between a Marquis level territory and the royal court would signal internal fracture. Such a signal would invite intervention, influence, and demands masked as assistance. The court feared that more than they feared Edward himself.

Because of that fear, the royal court chose reluctance over aggression. They did not recognize Edward as the legitimate Marquis, despite the bloodline and the law that technically supported his claim. His title remained unconfirmed, suspended in a legal void. Along with that suspension came the stripping of royal privileges that sustained noble territories. Royal fund allocations were frozen. Scheduled grain support was delayed indefinitely. Military reinforcement quotas were quietly canceled. Even trade caravans carrying goods marked with royal seals were instructed to avoid Vistro lands when possible.

The plan was not to kill Edward quickly, but to starve him slowly. Without funds, the territory would struggle to pay soldiers and workers. Without recognition, merchants would hesitate to trade. Without support, the people might grow restless and eventually turn against him. It was a pressure campaign designed to make Edward collapse from within, allowing the court to step in later under the excuse of restoring order.

Other forms of pressure followed. Border inspectors suddenly found issues with goods leaving the Vistro territory. Taxes that had once been flexible were recalculated with strict interpretation of old laws. Messengers sent by Edward were delayed, redirected, or returned unanswered. Even priests loyal to the Church of Light began refusing services within the territory, claiming spiritual contamination. None of these actions were dramatic alone, but together they formed a tightening ring.

Edward understood what was happening almost immediately. He had expected all of this to happen, after all. That restraint told him more than open hostility ever could. It meant the court was afraid of what might happen if they moved too openly. That fear became his leverage.

Edward did not attempt to appeal directly to the royal court. Any petition would be ignored or used against him. Instead, he focused on stability within his territory. The first step was securing alternative sources of resources. Royal funds were gone, but money still existed within the noble system. Wealth moved through alliances, marriages, favors, and mutual benefit. Edward began reaching out quietly to other nobles who were inspired by his act.

Some nobles refused immediately, unwilling to risk association with a condemned man. Others listened but offered empty words. A few, however, saw opportunity in the chaos. Border lords with limited royal attention needed stable neighbors. Merchant nobles cared more about profit than politics. Military houses understood the value of a proven fighter ruling the land.

Edward navigated these talks carefully. He never asked for charity. Instead, he proposed exchanges. Grain for future mining rights. Weapon access for shared patrol routes. Temporary loans in return for favorable trade tariffs once his position stabilized. He avoided written contracts when possible, relying on witnessed agreements and layered obligations that discouraged betrayal. Each alliance was limited in scope, designed to meet a specific need without binding him too deeply.

One example stood out among these negotiations. A minor noble house controlling a river trade route had suffered losses due to bandit activity. Edward offered to deploy his restructured forces to secure the route for three months. In return, the noble house agreed to allow Edward access to their stored grain reserves at reduced cost. The deal benefited both sides without requiring public acknowledgment. When the route stabilized, word spread quietly that Edward kept his agreements.

Edward also made use of skilled individuals rather than institutions. Retired knights, dismissed clerks, and minor mages without strong faction ties found work in his territory. He paid fairly and offered protection. In a kingdom where fear was spreading, safety itself became a valuable currency. These individuals brought knowledge of court procedures, supply networks, and hidden channels that could be shared with Edward’s territory.

Internally, Edward worked to keep his citizens loyal. He reduced certain local taxes temporarily, offset by strict audits of estate waste. He encouraged small scale farming expansions and allowed villages more autonomy in managing their produce. He made public appearances, not as a ruler giving speeches, but as a man inspecting roads, storehouses, and training grounds. Discontent still existed, but it did not boil over.

The royal court watched all of this with growing discomfort. Their pressure campaign was working slower than intended. Reports showed that the Vistro territory was not collapsing. Instead, it was adapting. Cutting funds had not caused revolt. Denying recognition had not broken command structure. Each day Edward survived made the court’s position more awkward.

They could not escalate easily. Sending an army would contradict their careful image of internal stability. Retracting the sentence would expose weakness. So they maintained the pressure, hoping time would do what force could not.

Edward understood that time cut both ways. Every day he held the territory was proof of his competence. Every alliance he formed made his removal more costly. He did not rush toward confrontation.

By the end of the month, the Vistro territory stood changed. Not restored to its former glory, but hardened and more self reliant. Edward had not won anything yet, but he had not lost either.

And as the wider world prepared for greater events within the northern sea, the cracks within Luminaris quietly widened, shaped by a man the court had failed to erase.