Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Old Continent Welcomes Peace
After the so-called "Invincible Armada" was destroyed, the Empire of Madrid was naturally unwilling to accept defeat. Even a dying camel is bigger than a horse. Among the human powers of Europa, the founding emperor of Madrid had been so dominant during the war to overthrow the Dwarven Empire that he seized nearly a third of the land vacated after its collapse. The smaller nations were almost entirely subjugated under the iron heel of Madrid. The English Empire, whose homeland lay isolated on a great island across the sea, was spared Madrid's interest and retained its independence. Franconia, second only to Madrid among human empires, was nevertheless far inferior to its rival. Had it not been for the Holy Church of Light—at the time the spiritual authority of humanity, reigning above kings—fearful of Madrid growing too strong and slipping from its grasp, and the fact that Franconia also worshipped the God of Light, Madrid might have unified all human powers.
Two centuries later, the decadence of Madrid and the determined resurgence of the once suppressed nations led directly to the greatest civil war in Europa’s human history.
In the year 552 of the Continental Calendar, the main force of Madrid’s army—one hundred thousand strong—was annihilated by the combined forces of the English and Franconian empires. The two upstart nations, having armed themselves with flintlock muskets, delivered a harsh lesson to the old empire, which had grown complacent and neglected to modernize its military. The matchlock was utterly outclassed.
The following year, Franconia succeeded in seizing all the northern plains once held by Madrid, while the English occupied the coastal region of Phonybo. Alarmed, the Madridans hurriedly sought peace. Mediated by the Church of Light, the English and Franconians reluctantly abandoned their advance into Madrid’s remaining heartland. Madrid thus lost nearly half its continental territory, its vigor gravely diminished.
Yet these two rising empires had no intention of sparing Madrid. Though war ceased in the homeland, they turned their vast fleets against Madrid’s colonies in the Golden Continent, launching a campaign of pillage and conquest.
After seven years of war, by the year 560, the Golden Continent had been completely partitioned between the two powers. Madrid withdrew entirely from its colonial dominion in the New World, reduced to a second-rate nation.
During this decade of Madrid’s precipitous decline, the Elven Empire in eastern Europa seized the opportunity to invade Madrid’s borders. With its forces committed to the human civil war, Madrid suffered defeat after defeat. The border nobles were forced to unite and resist the assault of their racial foe—the High Elves.
Amid this racial conflict, humans, unwilling to accept second-class status, rose in rebellion. Years of battle saw the region of Istanbul, where humans and High Elves clashed, witness the rise of a military star: Maurice. He gathered the remnants of noble power shattered by the elves, established an advanced parliamentary system, and greatly unified the aristocratic forces across Istanbul’s vast frontier. The army he assembled took over the lands abandoned by retreating Madridans and engaged the elves in a prolonged struggle.
Maurice harnessed the wealth and industry of the Mediterranean coastal cities to develop military manufacturing, arming his troops with the innovative Maurice Formation—a tactic far superior to the traditional Madrid Square, long standard across the human world. His genius brought about a military revolution, and the Maurice Formation inflicted crushing defeats upon the elves, forcing them back to their original territory. Through protracted warfare, Maurice became a hero of humanity, and with his immense prestige, founded the Empire of Maurice in the Istanbul region, adopting a constitutional monarchy—the same political system as the English. Thus, the Empire of Maurice became a pivotal force among human powers, recognized as the most formidable military presence. If not for the constant threat of the elves at its border, Madrid’s extinction would have been only a matter of time, for Maurice did not worship the God of Light.
So, between the years 550 and 560, the human powers of Europa were reshuffled: the mighty English Empire to the west, Franconia to the northwest, the untouched Holy Land of Light at the center, Madrid clinging to survival with a third of its former territory in the south, and Maurice’s Empire to the east, serving as humanity’s bulwark against outsiders.
Madrid’s current emperor, Alaraz II, seemed unwilling to remain a failure. While the English focused their energies on the Golden Continent, contesting power with Franconia, he assembled fifty thousand regular troops equipped with new flintlock muskets and artillery, launching a surprise attack on the English-occupied region of Phonybo.
Still stubbornly using the Madrid Square, Madrid’s army faced forty thousand English defenders who had already adopted the Maurice Formation. After three days of battle, Madrid’s forces were decisively defeated, proving once more the obsolescence of their tactics. Alaraz II finally saw reality and resolved to retrain his army, adopting the Maurice Formation, and vowed never to rashly start another war.
Yet the English would not let slip such a godsend. Madrid’s aggression provided ample justification to annihilate an empire long overdue for destruction. Knowing Madrid’s main force was shattered, the English defenders marched southward, entering Madrid’s last territory—the Iserian Peninsula—a land they had coveted for years.
Powerless to resist, Alaraz II tearfully pleaded for aid from the Grand Commander of the Holy Knights, Orleans Warhammer. Though Madrid’s decline was astonishing, it remained a traditional bastion of the faith of Light, far preferable to England, where Protestantism prevailed. Thus, Orleans Warhammer, wielding the authority and martial prowess of a Grand Knight, led the Holy Knights’ main force to confront the English southern army. Through a series of ruthless decapitations by several Grand Knights, the English forces were shattered, fewer than ten thousand out of thirty thousand returned alive, and the unrealistic ambitions of their merchants and nobles were thoroughly extinguished.
Witnessing the English disaster, the restless Franconians promptly became docile. All the major human powers of Europa quickly signed a non-aggression pact, and in an instant, the world seemed to enter a harmonious era. All wars ceased; even in the Golden Continent, the English and Franconians restrained themselves, shook hands, and reconciled. Under the formidable deterrence of the Holy Knights, these shrewd nations would not risk internal strife.
In October of the year 560, after ten years under the shadow of war, the world saw a glimmer of peace. Every nation began to prosper in harmony—or perhaps quietly amass strength. In any case, there was no sign of shrinking military forces; on the contrary, each country began planning new mobilization systems.