NOVPUBThanks to Amelia, Ghislain had been able to evade the pressure from the ducal family and Harold up until now. But, as things go, it couldn’t last forever.
In the end, Harold had resolved to target Ghislain directly.
This decision shocked all of Harold's retainers. Harold was a highly regarded figure, one trusted by the ducal family to oversee the Northern territories.
Now, he was going against the duke’s orders.
One of his retainers, sweating nervously, asked, "Are you saying the downfall of Fenris and Peridium is the top priority?"
"Yes. Divert all funds, troops, and resources allocated for Amelia’s rebellion toward attacking Baron Fenris. Amelia has assured us she’ll handle things herself, so only the essentials need to be reviewed and supplied to her."
The retainers could hardly understand this decision.
Even though Baron Fenris had been rising in prominence lately, his efforts still couldn’t compare in importance to Amelia’s rebellion.
"If Amelia fails in her rebellion, it could cause serious problems. She lacks anyone who can stand up to Commander Jurgen, known as the best sword in the North, and her troops are still too few for a successful uprising. Are you sure about this?”
"We’ll start by unraveling the tangled threads. If we let him be, the North's situation will only worsen. And with Count Rayford unable to mobilize troops due to the drought, it’s better to deal with that guy first.”
“Compared to Count Rayford, Baron Fenris is still a minor threat. It would be wiser to wrap up Amelia’s rebellion first, even if it stretches us thin...”
“Enough.”
Seeing Harold’s expression twist in irritation, the retainer immediately closed his mouth. He was certain his head would roll if he said another word.
Harold looked around at the gathered retainers again and stated, “By any means necessary, bring him down first. Make sure everyone’s prepared.”
This time, it was different. Harold no longer saw Ghislain as some lucky upstart to be dealt with later. Now, he regarded him as an immediate, unequivocal "enemy."
With that understanding, he began to reevaluate the current situation.
“We can’t let him seize control of the iron mines. If he does, it will cause serious setbacks in securing resources long-term. Prepare to send food and reinforcements to Count Cavald.”
“N-Now, sir? The ducal family is likely still negotiating with the Royal faction. Shouldn’t we wait for the results of that?”
“It’s too late. Prepare them immediately.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
The murderous intent in Harold’s gaze made the lieutenant bow his head instantly.
As Earl Powd had predicted, Harold acted quickly.
This was partly because he now acknowledged Ghislain's competence.
With time in short supply, they couldn’t afford leisurely preparations. The best they could do was to quickly gather troops and food to hold out for a short period.
“Ready to depart, my lord.”
Emerson, the head of a cavalry unit with a renowned reputation for his expertise in mobile warfare, saluted in front of Harold.
Had Viktor not been there, Emerson would have been the commander of the Peridium defense.
Sending someone of his caliber showed just how urgent the situation had become.
Harold spoke to Emerson with a grave expression.
“Do whatever it takes to deliver supplies to Cavald’s fortress as quickly as possible. Hold the line, and I’ll send a second wave of reinforcements shortly after.”
“Understood, sir. We will succeed, no matter what.”
“I trust you.”
Emerson led a force of a thousand soldiers and supplies on a swift march.
Although they were at a numerical disadvantage compared to Fenris’s troops, if Cavald’s forces could respond from within the fortress, it wouldn’t be difficult to merge the two groups.
Harold judged that once they joined forces, they’d be at an even strength, discouraging the enemy from attempting an all-out assault.
“Don’t stop! We’re within reach of Cavald’s forces before they collapse!”
Emerson was certain of the operation's success.
Sieges naturally took a long time to conclude, especially when besieging forces extended the situation.
Since Cavald’s fortress wasn’t too far from the Desmond estate and Harold’s decision had been swift, Emerson believed they could arrive before Cavald’s forces starved or surrendered.
But that hope was shattered the moment he left the estate grounds.
“What... What in the world...”
Blocking the fastest route to Cavald’s fortress was an army of at least 5,000 soldiers.
It was the Second Division of the Ruthania Kingdom Army, dispatched by Marquis Branford.
A man on horseback approached the stunned Emerson.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the esteemed Sir Emerson from the North!”
The man, grinning from ear to ear, was Baron Doren, the Second Division’s commander.
Acting on orders from Marquis Branford, he’d been stationed near Desmond’s domain to keep watch—and if necessary, launch an assault.
For a moment, Emerson bowed his head and bit his lip.
“I greet the division commander. But, sir, why has the Second Division, which should be guarding the northern border of Cardinia, come so far south? This defies convention.”
“And where might you be headed in such haste?”
“We’re... on a mobility drill.”
“Well, isn’t this a coincidence? We’re also training here.”
“What do you mean by that? We received no word of such exercises!”
Emerson openly scowled.
Even as the kingdom’s army, they couldn’t simply move troops into another lord’s territory without consent.
It was akin to openly threatening them to war.
“Hmm, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding,” Baron Doren replied courteously.
As a commander, he couldn’t treat Emerson—a knight and officer under the powerful Count Desmond—with outright contempt.
Instead, he pulled a document from his coat with a leisurely smile.
“This is an official drill authorized by the Royal Court. It seems Count Desmond hasn’t been notified yet, but there’s already an agreement to cooperate with the Kingdom Army’s formal exercises, is there not?”
“Urgh...”
Emerson gritted his teeth.
This was clearly a tactic by the Royal faction. They were trying to prevent anyone from helping Count Cavald by pulling this trick.
“Then, at least clear the way. We need to continue our training.”
“Oh, that’s a bit problematic. We’ve already secured this area. If we clash unnecessarily, it will be uncomfortable for both sides. Just bear with us for a few days.”
“Commander!”
“I’m just following orders, so please understand. If I can’t conduct this drill properly, I’ll have to resign. Do you have any idea how expensive tuition is for my child at the Academy? Ah, raising kids is so difficult these days.”
With Doren’s sleazy reply, Emerson could only let out heavy breaths.
Since he wasn’t at war with the Royal faction, there was nothing he could do. Reluctantly, he sent a messenger to Count Desmond.
It wasn’t until the following day that a reply arrived—a sternly worded letter from Count Desmond to Baron Doren.
Seeing the letter brimming with threats, Doren scratched his chin with a troubled expression.
“Oh, it seems Count Desmond is quite upset. Looks like we can’t continue this any longer, can we?”
Doren knew that handling Count Desmond alone was beyond his capacity. Yet he had a backup plan.
“Well then, please wait a moment. I need to contact the Royal Court for formal clearance.”
“Commander! Clear the way immediately!”
“Oh, I’d love to, but there’s a procedure. Can you take responsibility if I get dismissed? It’s not like you’re covering my daughter’s Academy fees, right?”
Ridiculous. As commander, he could have halted the training exercise on his own judgment, just as he could have opened the way.
Despite Emerson’s ongoing protests, Baron Doren remained steadfast.
“I, too, wish to go back quickly. The administration here is so slow—it’s high time we reformed the system, isn’t it? But until we hear back, let’s be a little more patient.”
This back-and-forth dragged on for five days.
By that time, Emerson could have easily reached Cavald’s fortress.
Enraged, Emerson resolved to break through by force.
While it would cause trouble later, his primary duty was to carry out Harold’s orders.
However, as he prepared to make his final appeal to Doren, a soldier came running up with urgent news.
“Baron Fenris has seized Cavald’s fortress!”
“It’s over...”
As Emerson closed his eyes, he heard Baron Doren’s gleeful muttering.
“Oh, my, with all these complaints, I couldn’t even finish the drill. I guess we’ll just head back.”
“God, I want to kill him...”
Emerson genuinely meant it.
* * *
News of Ghislain's victory soon reached the capital.
The nobles of the Royal faction, who had been gathering day after day to discuss endless countermeasures, fell silent as soon as they heard the news.
Marquis Maurice MacQuarrie, the kingdom’s supreme commander, was particularly stunned.
“He... already won? That greenhorn? Did he use some kind of dark magic?”
Who was Count Cavald? A formidable figure with one of the best-equipped troops in the North.
Despite their dwindling strength due to food shortages, how could he be defeated so quickly?
The pace of the news didn’t suggest he’d won by simply starving them out.
“What... He took the fortress so quickly? Did Count Cavald surrender?”
Marquis Maurice asked the knight who delivered the report, who shook his head.
“We need more details, but it seems that rather than surrendering, Count Cavald
’s forces were overpowered. The rumors are already spreading fast.”
“Huh...”
Marquis Maurice’s sigh was echoed by murmurs of admiration from the surrounding nobles.
“Who knew Baron Fenris was so militarily capable? To conclude a siege so swiftly! And against Count Cavald, no less!”
“Perhaps he was simply lucky again. Cavald’s troops were likely too starved to fight properly.”
“I disagree. Didn’t Baron Fenris make a significant contribution in the Peridium defense?”
“If it had been a fair fight, there’s no way Baron Fenris could have won.”
Opinions among the nobles were instantly divided. Not having seen Ghislain fight firsthand, they could only speculate.
Yet they all agreed on one thing:
“Either way, this is excellent news! The ducal family promised not to interfere, didn’t they?”
“Yes, this victory means our influence in the North will inevitably increase!”
“Hahaha, Baron Fenris has achieved something great. Other lords will see that the Royal faction is not as easily overpowered by the ducal family.”
The nobles showed an elation that seemed at odds with their previous wariness of challenging the ducal family.
Their previous fears that the ducal family’s involvement might backfire or that Fenris’s defeat could cripple their influence in the North had been alleviated.
With the outcome in their favor, even the Royal faction nobles regained some confidence.
“Perhaps we’ve been too passive. The ducal family’s nobles may have seemed formidable, but you can’t tell until the cards are on the table, can you?”
“Precisely! Count Cavald may have had a fierce reputation in the North, but he was evidently all bluster.”
“If Baron Fenris could win, then perhaps we could put up a good fight as well. The North isn’t exactly flourishing, is it? Haha!”
The Royal faction nobles laughed and exchanged congratulatory remarks.
Seeing Baron Fenris’s victory, they felt encouraged to stand against the ducal family.
However, Marquis Branford concealed his disdain as he observed them.
“Tch, they’re already gloating. Can they truly be this naive?”
Reports had come in that Count Desmond had mobilized his forces. Without the kingdom’s preemptive intervention, things might have escalated dramatically.
Thanks to Marquis Branford’s foresight, they had averted immediate catastrophe.
“Count Desmond’s alliance with the ducal family is clear now. He’s been brazenly evasive all this time.”
Previously, they had only suspicions, but now it was evident.
This realization was valuable; knowing your enemies is vital for future strategies.
As shown by Count Desmond’s actions, the ducal family’s influence extended across the entire kingdom. Identifying friend from foe had become increasingly difficult.
Marquis Branford even suspected there might be traitors within the Royal faction.
“Duke Delphine... If you’ve secured Count Desmond’s loyalty, then you truly mean to see this through to the end.”
Marquis Branford thought of his old friend and rival, Duke Delphine.
The ducal family would not stand idle. More accurately, Raul, Duke Delphine’s strategist, would not allow them to remain passive.
Duke Delphine himself likely didn’t care much about Count Cavald.
“I do wonder how he’s been,” he mused.
It had been over a decade since they last saw each other.
Since then, Duke Delphine hadn’t set foot outside his estate, secluding himself within the ducal residence.
Rumors circulated that he was nothing more than a puppet while Raul wielded all the authority.
But Marquis Branford didn’t believe that for a second.
He knew Duke Delphine better than anyone, having witnessed his resolute nature since their youth.
Even after over a decade of both friendship and rivalry, he couldn’t fathom what Duke Delphine was planning.
All he recalled was the last time they met... that unflinching yet desiring look in Delphine’s eyes. A look that was impossible to forget.
Branford shook off the stray thoughts, clearing his mind.
“Perhaps this is for the best.”
The ducal family would eventually unsheathe their swords. Until now, all they could do was barely hold them in check.
In the midst of all this, Ghislain’s achievements had brought a fresh sense of purpose to the Royal faction. Even the once-cautious nobles were showing some courage.
As long as they didn’t lose sight of their place, displaying confidence was preferable to cowardice.
“Thanks to that man, our mood is changing. And it doesn’t seem all that bad.”
With this thought, Marquis Branford felt oddly pleased. Since becoming Ghislain’s patron, he’d experienced emotions he never thought he’d feel.
“The man has a knack for surprises. Not only rallying his forces as he did, but also taking the fortress so swiftly. If he requests further support, I should be willing to provide it.”
Marquis Branford closed his eyes with a contented smile.
The Royal faction nobles, who had been deep in conversation, noticed and fell silent in astonishment.
Even when his daughter had recovered from her illness, Marquis Branford hadn’t smiled. For someone so stoic to show a grin over Baron Fenris’s success—it was baffling.
The gathered nobles couldn’t help but watch him with wonder for quite some time.
