NOVPUBSwoosh!
Caleb and the gray-cloaked assassins were the first to charge forward.
"Attack!"
Ulkan and his band of outlaws followed close behind, and the remaining forces quickly joined in.
Boom!
Though initially taken aback by the sudden attack, the guard captain unsheathed his sword and bellowed, "Alert! We’re under attack! Call for reinforcements! Lady Amelia has started a rebellion!"
The shrill sound of whistles echoed from all directions as the guards stationed at the castle gates prepared for battle, responding to the oncoming attack.
"Hold the line! Help is on the way! Hold them off!"
The guard captain’s voice rang out as he encouraged his men to hold their ground.
With hundreds of guards protecting the castle, they were confident they could either repel the attackers or hold out until reinforcements arrived.
But the attackers were no ordinary opponents. Those at the front were more skilled than even seasoned knights.
Caleb’s speed was unmatched, and every swing of Ulkan’s massive iron club sent multiple guards flying.
Boom! Boom!
"Ahh!"
"Where are the reinforcements?"
"Hold them! Don’t let them breach the castle!"
In no time, the guards were slaughtered, overwhelmed by the sheer force and skill of their opponents.
The guard captain staggered back, whispering in disbelief, "What... What are these monsters? How could anyone let such people gather here?"
No reinforcements arrived. There was no sign of the local militia, and they had no way to call the territorial defense forces.
The difference in power was staggering; the guards didn’t even have a chance to flee.
Though they’d initially been matched in number, the attackers now vastly outnumbered them.
Amelia oversaw it all from behind, orchestrating every move.
The guard captain, watching the hopeless battle unfold, looked on in shock.
"How... How is she commanding so skillfully?"
With each subtle gesture from Amelia, another whistle would blow, signaling the attackers to shift positions, swiftly adjusting their formations to encircle and destroy the guards.
The guards had no idea how they were being outmaneuvered and fell in clusters.
This wasn’t just an assault; it was a well-planned battle strategy. The guards’ futile resistance had been their undoing.
As he stood there in shock, the guard captain suddenly felt the sting of Bernaph’s blade, piercing his throat.
With that, every last guard was slain. It was a flawless victory. Amelia’s expression didn’t change; she seemed to regard this as an expected outcome.
Bernaph casually wiped the blood from his sword and addressed Amelia. "Shall we go in?"
Meow.
Bastet, the gray cat, raised her head and tail confidently, leading Amelia into the castle.
Bernaph clenched his jaw as he watched the cat.
‘I swear, one of these days, I’m going to get rid of that cat.’
The blood-streaked soldiers who followed them caused the castle servants to scatter in fear.
Passing through a long, silent corridor, the attackers reached a thick, closed door leading to the banquet hall.
Creak...
As the door opened, the eyes of everyone enjoying the banquet turned toward the entrance.
Meow.
Seeing the elegant Bastet enter, the guests smiled. But as Amelia and her bloodied entourage stepped in behind her, their expressions hardened.
The assembled soldiers were armed and covered in blood, a clear indication they’d fought their way through the guards to get here.
The music halted, and a heavy silence filled the room.
A handsome middle-aged man sneered as he looked at Amelia.
"What is the meaning of this, Amelia?"
Amelia smiled charmingly and replied, "I’ve come to claim my title, Father."
The man was Count Rayfold, the lord of the northern territories. Hearing Amelia’s words, he let out a loud, mocking laugh.
"Hahaha! Have you lost your mind? You, a mere woman and not even the heir, think you can claim my title by force?"
The count’s sons laughed with him.
"Looks like all that time with her books has finally made her snap."
"This is why we should’ve married her off sooner. And to think she broke off her engagement with Count Fenris. Tsk, tsk, such poor judgment."
"Eldest brother, would she even go willingly? Didn’t she whine about the engagement, dragging her heels until we forced her into it? Now she’s too old for anyone to take her. Hahaha!"
Their laughter rang through the hall as they openly mocked her. Despite only a few guards being present, they showed no fear.
The count examined the group of intruders, his scornful gaze sweeping over them.
"The filthy rat from the Gray Rats guild. I only let you be because you paid a hefty sum. I should’ve crushed you sooner."
Caleb stood by with a cold expression, indifferent to the count’s words.
"And the infamous bandit I thought had been killed long ago."
"Hahaha! The lady helped me escape!" Ulkan laughed boisterously, resting his iron club on his shoulder.
"And isn’t that Conrad, the head of the Actium Merchant Guild? I never thought you’d side with her."
Conrad placed a hand over his heart and bowed politely.
The count snickered and continued, "A rabble of wretches following a madwoman. If you wanted something to eat, you should’ve allied with me instead."
Watching the count’s arrogant demeanor, Amelia chuckled.
"Hm, it seems you’ve made some preparations?"
His calmness seemed unusual for someone facing such dire circumstances. In this situation, most would be begging for mercy.
With a smug smile, the count raised his hand.
Thud. Thud.
Doors around the banquet hall opened, and a group of heavily armed soldiers entered, surrounding the intruders.
They held powerful crossbows aimed directly at Amelia’s forces.
A simultaneous attack would inflict heavy casualties on her men.
Amelia glanced around at the encircling soldiers and nodded.
"You were prepared, I see. How did you know?"
"Hmph. Do you think power is so easy to hold onto? Those in power must always watch and question those around them. I always keep a guard detail ready, especially with all the recent rumors about my children."
Amelia smiled at the count’s response. It was typical of her paranoid, self-centered father to prepare in this way.
With his sons constantly vying for his position, he’d naturally been on high alert.
Seeing her remain silent, the count waved his hand dismissively.
"Make them all into pincushions. If my daughter’s foolish enough to challenge me for my seat, I won’t tolerate it. I have plenty of other daughters to marry off."
However, the knights didn’t move. They stood there, expressionless.
Thinking they hadn’t heard him, the count shouted again, "What are you waiting for? Kill her!"
Amelia laughed and calmly spoke.
"Turn around."
At her command, the knights instantly redirected their crossbows toward Count Rayfold.
"What?! What is the meaning of this?!"
Count Rayfold and everyone in the hall were stunned. The crossbows, initially aimed at Amelia’s forces, were now pointed directly at him and his allies.
One of the knights lowered his head respectfully toward Amelia and spoke.
"Apologies, my lady. We couldn’t inform you sooner due to the sudden mobilization."
"It’s fine. I expected as much. My father’s actions are always the same."
"Thank you, my lady."
Amelia had spent years persuading and bribing the influential figures within the estate. Where persuasion failed, she’d taken their families as leverage.
In this way, she’d managed to bring nearly all of the castle’s guards and commanders under her control.
Even the estate’s mages, loyal to the count, had already been persuaded to stand aside.
Seeing the tables turn, the count roared in fury.
"Traitors! What do you think you’re doing? Kill that girl! I said kill her!"
But his outbursts were useless. Every armed force in the room was loyal to Amelia now.
Only the guards who had come with the nobles remained on his side, and they were too few to oppose her forces.
Watching the count rage and his sons tremble, Amelia smiled.
"Now your expressions are worth looking at."
Victory was within her grasp. However, there was one remaining threat in the room.
"Hm. Lady Amelia, I think this joke of yours has gone too far."
A portly middle-aged man stepped forward. He looked like someone who had never trained a day in his life.
But anyone who recognized him would know better than to judge by appearances.
This was Yurgen, the head knight of Rayfold and the man known as the "Northern Blade."
As he slowly unsheathed his sword, Yurgen spoke.
"If you retreat now, I’ll speak to the lord on your behalf and spare your life."
Whoosh!
The moment he finished speaking, an intense aura radiated from him. His title as the Northern Blade was well-earned.
"Oho, Yurgen! Get me out of here immediately! I’ll summon the army and kill them all!"
The count’s eyes filled with hope. Even if everyone else perished, he only cared about his own survival.
Yurgen nodded slightly and instructed the guards around him, "Form a defensive line. I will escort the lord out of here."
The guards gathered around him, forming a protective formation. Though few in number, they were ready to risk their lives to save the count.
The other nobles looked on in despair, realizing they were unlikely to survive the battle.
Seeing Yurgen take a step forward, Bernaph stepped up to face him.
Before you go, care to spend a moment with me, Sir Yurgen?"
"You are...?"
"Bernaph."
"Ah, yes. I remember now. Aren’t you the one they say was chosen only because of your appearance, to serve as the young lady’s guard?”
Yurgen let out a dismissive chuckle.
In Rayfold, Bernaph had a poor reputation. Most people believed he’d only been chosen because he looked the part. People said he was just a flashy ornament, picked up by the young lady for his appearance alone. He hadn’t even been formally knighted and was often the subject of scornful gossip as “the village idiot that the lady found somewhere.”
Yet here he was, challenging the captain of Rayfold's knights, the famed Northern Blade, Yurgen himself.
Holding back would be beneath Yurgen’s pride.
He strode forward confidently and said, “Fine, I’ll have time to kill someone like you before I leave. Draw your sword.”
His voice exuded the calm assurance of a master swordsman. Bernaph smirked and took hold of his sword, dropping into a low stance.
Bernaph’s left foot pivoted slightly, and he lowered his center of gravity, taking a posture that indicated he was ready to strike.
Yurgen, brimming with the arrogance of a veteran, waited for Bernaph to make his move.
"Are you just going to stand there? Draw your sword already! And what’s with that strange stance?”
“Here I come,” Bernaph said calmly.
“What?”
Snap.
In a flash of movement, Bernaph’s blade slid from its sheath with a barely audible sound, gleaming as it cut through the air.
“Ugh!”
Yurgen barely managed to leap back, gritting his teeth as blood spurted from a deep gash across his chest. If he’d reacted even a fraction slower, he would’ve lost his head entirely.
Clicking his tongue, Bernaph let out a sigh of admiration.
“As expected of the Northern Blade. I went straight for a kill move.”
Meow!
Bastet, the cat, seemed to scold him as though asking, “Why didn’t you finish him off?”
Bernaph thought to himself, One of these days, I’m going to get rid of that cat.
Seething with anger, Yurgen clenched his teeth. It was humiliating to be wounded by this young upstart he’d considered barely a squire. Up close, Yurgen noticed that Bernaph’s sword was unique. It was sharpened on only one side and had a subtle curve to make a quick draw-and-slash easier.
“You... insolent wretch! Resorting to petty tricks!”
Clang!
Yurgen lunged with lightning speed, and Bernaph parried, leading them both into a fierce exchange of blows.
Boom! Boom!
With each clash of their mana-charged swords, the floor cracked and trembled, sending shockwaves through the banquet hall. Those nearby stumbled, forced to retreat from the sheer intensity of their fight.
Boom! Boom!
The duel between Bernaph and Yurgen seemed evenly matched. Everyone in the banquet hall watched in shock, their expressions mirroring their disbelief. No one had imagined that Bernaph, who’d gained a reputation as a slacker, could hold his own against the Northern Blade.
Yet Bernaph bit his lip, frustration etching lines into his face. 𝘯𝘰𝑣𝘱𝑢𝘣.𝑐𝑜𝑚
So, he really lives up to his reputation as the Northern Blade. I thought I could handle this quickly, but he’s stronger than he looks! And he has a belly from all that lazing around!
Despite his youth and skill, Bernaph found himself under pressure. He needed to end this quickly, but Yurgen’s experience and skill proved difficult to overcome.
Watching the drawn-out fight with a lazy expression, Amelia finally spoke.
“I think we’ve given him enough of a chance. Bernaph, I granted you permission because you insisted, but this is taking too long.”
Amelia didn’t enjoy wasting time. She believed in handling matters efficiently.
She’d allowed Bernaph to prove himself, but it was clear he wouldn’t win alone.
Bernaph’s insistence on challenging Yurgen was simply an attempt to impress her.
With a small wave of her hand, Amelia signaled, and Caleb produced a weapon—a serrated sword known as a “sword-breaker.”
Conrad drew his rapier, and Ulkan hefted his iron club, spinning it around.
Amelia gestured to Yurgen.
“Finish him.”
All three advanced on Yurgen.
