Ghislain, donning a mask, confidently strode back into the castle with his knights.
Though they looked like a band of brigands, no one inside the castle paid them any attention. Their outfits were unchanged, and the mask only covered the lower half of their faces, making their identities obvious.
The soldiers and servants, upon spotting them, quickly stepped aside.
“At it again, huh?”
“He’s always consistent, but whether that’s good or bad... who knows.”
“Let’s just pretend we didn’t see anything this ti too.”
Thanks to everyone treating them like invisible specters, Ghislain and his knights reached Elena’s room unimpeded.
Even the guards stationed to protect her exchanged glances before stepping aside.
Bang!
Ghislain kicked the door open and strode in.
Elena, startled, shouted, “What the—!”
“I am the king of pillagers!” Ghislain declared dramatically.
“Ugh, you lunatic! Can’t you just stop?!”
Elena’s irritation was palpable, but Ghislain didn’t bat an eye. If she wouldn’t listen, he’d resort to force.
“Seize her.”
At his command, the masked knights surrounded Elena. The assassins stationed in the ceiling to protect her rely closed their eyes as if conceding defeat.
“D-Don’t co closer! I’ll hit you!”
Elena retreated, raising her fists, but the knights only chuckled.
“Don’t worry, miss. We’ll take good care of you.”
Whoosh!
The knights sprang into action, quickly binding Elena with ropes. They wrapped her up like a cocoon, ensuring she couldn’t escape despite her divine strength.
Without proper mana training, Elena couldn’t break free from the bonds. Helpless, she could only scream in protest.
“Let go! Let go! Aaargh!”
Once Elena was subdued, Ghislain gestured behind him.
“Bring it.”
A massive wooden box was brought into the room. Despite her protests, Elena, now gagged, was unceremoniously stuffed inside the box.
“I told you we could’ve done this the easy way.”
Ghislain pressed his ear against the box, hearing only the sound of furious breathing. It seed Elena had resigned herself to her fate.
Feeling victorious, he spoke in a commanding tone.
“With great power cos great responsibility. You must use your strength for the good of others. Stay put, and I’ll let you out once we arrive at the Northern Army.”
Ghislain thought the matter was resolved—until it wasn’t.
“Mmph...!”
Crack, crack, CRACK.
A strange sound ca from the box. Ghislain leaned in to listen, only to jerk back as a fist burst through the wood.
Bam!
“Whoa!”
Ghislain narrowly dodged the flying punch. Peering into the darkness of the box, he saw a pair of eyes glowing with rage.
“Oh, great. She gets stronger when she’s mad?”
Ever since discovering her strength, Elena had been recklessly unleashing it. Ghislain felt even more determined to teach her how to control her abilities properly.
Frantically, he signaled to his knights.
“Move! Get moving! Keep her tied up or she’ll turn into a full-blown monster!”
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Fists continued punching through the box, leaving the knights scrambling as they carried it away.
The assassins, sighing deeply, followed after them. It seed they would have to accompany Elena all the way to the Northern Army.
As Ghislain prepared to leave with his unruly sister in tow, Zwalter ca rushing out.
“D-Do you really have to take her like this?”
“Didn’t you tell to handle it however I saw fit? This is the only way.”
“Sigh... she really takes after her mother with that temper...”
At Zwalter’s comnt, Ghislain and Belinda exchanged glances but said nothing. They couldn’t reveal Lady Anette’s secrets yet.
Zwalter sighed heavily and, shaking his head, finally relented.
“Fine, fine. Just take care of her.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
“Oh, and take Skovan with you.”
“Skovan? Why?”
Zwalter averted his gaze slightly as he replied.
“Well, he doesn’t seem to be adjusting well to life in the territory. I thought a change of scenery might do him so good. Plus, you’ll need soone to guard Elena, won’t you?”
Ghislain raised an eyebrow. In truth, Elena and Rachel would already have tight security within the Northern Army. Skovan’s presence was unnecessary.
But Ghislain quickly realized Zwalter’s true intentions: he wanted to offload Skovan to the Northern Army.
“Poor guy.”
Skovan’s reputation had plumted due to so ridiculous rumor, and now he was being cast out.
Turning his head, Ghislain spotted Skovan standing sullenly with his belongings, alongside Ricardo, who looked utterly defeated.
Apparently, Skovan had dragged Ricardo along as a condition for being reassigned. If he had to go down, he wasn’t going alone.
The Northern Army already had a reputation for being the “army of devils.” Adding one more scandal-ridden mber wouldn’t make a difference.
Smirking, Ghislain nodded.
“Fine. I’ll take Skovan too. We’ll be off now.”
Crash!
Another fist burst through the box. The knights struggled to subdue Elena, pressing her head down and binding her again.
“Agh! Dad! Are you just going to let this maniac kidnap ?!” Elena shouted, muffled by her gag.
Zwalter looked like he might cry. He wanted nothing more than to rescue his daughter from this ordeal.
Seeing his father’s pitiful expression, Ghislain hurriedly waved at the knights.
“Hurry! Keep her tied up! Let’s move!”
With a few new additions to their party, the group finally set out for the Northern Army’s camp.
***
The Northern Army, in Ghislain's absence, had positioned itself at a southern front line, waiting in readiness.
Their task was to maintain vigilance until Ghislain's return. Should the Duke’s forces arrive, it was their job to hold the line.
Since word spread that the Duke’s faction was on the move, the atmosphere had grown more tense than ever.
While the soldiers stood guard with heightened alertness, Alfoy found himself trapped under Vanessa's watchful eye, forced into studying. This unusual situation stemd from a peculiar rumor that had begun circulating recently.
The rumor claid that the Duke’s faction was targeting both Claude and Alfoy.
"Well, the chief steward has proven himself in battle and holds a high position in a major territory. Plus, he’s annoying enough to make soone want to kill him."
"But why Alfoy? Sure, he’s annoying too, but wouldn’t it make more sense to go after Vanessa first? Alfoy could be dealt with later."
The rumor left many scratching their heads, dismissing it as nonsense.
But cautious as ever, Vanessa believed such rumors didn’t arise without reason. This led her to insist that Alfoy strengthen himself—even in the middle of a war.
Vanessa glanced at Alfoy, who was seated inside a tent, pretending to study.
“Since when has he ever worked so hard? Could he actually be worried about the rumor?”
Watching him bury his head in a book brought a satisfied smile to Vanessa’s face. It was rare to see him so focused.
Alfoy, however, was far from focused.
“I should’ve finished that pie earlier. Is there a way to swindle more money out of Piote? I wonder how my chicken’s doing up in the skies. Why do humans even exist?”
“Ugh, I want to go on vacation. Maybe I should beco a count and get my own territory. What if my parents are actually super-rich nobles? What if I’m not even an orphan but was kidnapped by my master? Yeah, that’s probably it.”
“What’s for dinner? Why does reading always make sleepy? Maybe books just aren’t my thing. And why does Ascon keep insulting ? Seriously, what’s his problem?”
Alfoy’s mind wandered far from the contents of his book.
Ever since arriving in Fenris, he had been doing so much physical labor that he felt his intelligence had dulled considerably.
“I need a jolt, sothing strong to wake my brain up.”
Feeling that continuing to study in his current state was futile, Alfoy stood up abruptly. Vanessa, ever vigilant, imdiately intervened.
“Alfoy! Why are you getting up? You need to keep studying!”
“...Were you spying on ?”
“No, of course not. I just happened to notice. Coincidentally.”
“I need to consult with Claude about sothing. I can’t concentrate because of this issue.”
Vanessa narrowed her eyes, clearly skeptical. Alfoy had a long history of making excuses to avoid studying.
“Fine, but make it quick. You still need to master a fifth-circle spell. Fifth-circle magic requires a deeper understanding of elental structures, so you need to focus on mana alignnt and—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it...”
As Vanessa launched into yet another lecture, Alfoy hung his head in despair. He was too uninterested to retain a word of it.
When Vanessa’s impromptu lesson finally ended, Alfoy trudged to Claude, wearing a look of utter defeat.
Inside the command tent, Claude was in discussion with Ereneth about their strategies. Upon seeing Alfoy, Claude greeted him warmly.
“Hey, Alfoy. What brings you here? Weren’t you busy studying?”
“I need so advice.”
“Of course! For my dear bro, I’m always available.”
Alfoy sat down, his expression serious.
“I feel like my brain’s rusted over lately. I used to be sharp enough to inherit the mage tower, but now... I’m just not the sa. Got any ideas for how to jolt my brain back into action? Sothing stimulating—but not physical, mind you.”
Claude nodded thoughtfully, clearly relishing the challenge.
“Well, that’s simple. You’ve been relying on tricks with magic in your gambling. No wonder your brain’s not working. You should switch to a card ga instead.”
“Card gas?”
“Exactly. Card gas require strategy, deduction, and psychological warfare. You’ll have to outthink your opponents. It’ll be great ntal stimulation.”
Alfoy nodded in agreent. Unlike his usual gambling tricks, card gas could actually engage his mind.
However, there was one thing that left him unsatisfied.
“Sure, that’s a good idea. But isn’t it a bit... mild? I want sothing stronger.”
“Just raise the stakes.”
“Ah, of course.”
The higher the stakes, the greater the stimulation.
Listening to their conversation, Ereneth stared at the two with a blank expression.
“These fools are the core of the Northern Army?”
The great elven chief, accustod to dignified diplomacy and solemn discussions, couldn’t believe what she was witnessing.
Claude, noticing her gaze, turned to Ereneth with a grin.
“What do you think, Ereneth? Isn’t my suggestion brilliant?”
“...About what?”
“Alfoy switching to card gas to stimulate his mind.”
“I don’t... care.”
“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t. Living in the forest must be so boring. You’ve missed out on all the fun in life.”
Ereneth’s face remained stoic, but inwardly, she was in disbelief.
In all her years as the esteed chief of the elves, never had she encountered humans so... natural.
Before the awkward atmosphere could stretch further, a scout burst into the tent.
“The Duke’s army has been spotted nearby! They’ll arrive soon, and their scouts have likely already seen us!”
Claude, unperturbed, asked casually, “How many?”
“Estimated at about 100,000.”
“Wow, that’s a lot. So they split their forces into three groups to head for the capital, and 100,000 of them ca our way? They’re really out to get us.”
Claude stood, clicking his tongue.
The Duke’s faction alone had managed to muster over 100,000 troops. The southern lords loyal to the Duke had joined their forces, making their army even larger.
The southern region, rich in wealth and resources, had poured everything into this campaign. The sheer size of their army was unparalleled in the kingdom’s history.
Claude stroked his chin, muttering to himself.
“So, we can’t contact the lord, which ans it’s up to us to hold them off.”
Dark had long since expended his mana and disappeared, and though Ghislain would likely send a new avatar, the battle would begin before it could arrive.
The Northern Army was stationed at the shortest route to the capital, the most critical point to defend.
Claude smirked slyly.
“They think they can crush us now that the lord isn’t here. I wonder what tricks they’ve brought. Not that it’s hard to guess...”
The Northern Army was renowned for its strength, both in equipnt and the individual skill of its soldiers. Sheer numbers wouldn’t be enough to defeat them.
But the Duke’s faction had likely prepared counterasures.
Claude turned to Ereneth with a grin.
“This ti, we’ll need your full strength, Chief.”
“Fine. Watching you two is giving a headache anyway. I’d rather just fight.”
As Ereneth stood, a towering presence emanated from her, like a mountain looming over the battlefield.
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