The Drupho Plains, located just an hour’s ride away from Normant, was as barren as a desert. Void of flowing water and soil that was far too compact for cultivating crops, the place was essentially uninhabitable. Ultimately, it became a haven for bandits, making it an area most travelers avoided. Well, that was the case until three days ago.
Two armies, each belonging to a noble family, had descended upon these vast plains. Each army boasted close to six or seven thousand soldiers, creating a truly awe-inspiring scene. The two forces halted, maintaining a gap so wide that even arrows couldn’t bridge.
“I can’t recall the last time two armies of this size clashed, can you?” Count Lumerier surveyed his forces from the eastern end of the plain, mounted on his horse. Five Black Lion Knights stood next to the Count, along with a standard-bearer holding a flag taller than the Count himself.
“No, my lord. Neither we nor they have ever deployed a force exceeding three thousand men. We’ve always taken care to conserve our armies.” Bading replied.
“What’s your take on this battle, Bading? Do you also foresee my unilateral victory, like those flatterer strategists?”
“Count Johnstein declared war confidently. He knows his forces are weaker than the Black Lion’s army. And yet, he’s leading his forces personally. They, like us, have left about five thousand troops in the rear. That means they haven’t committed their full strength yet.”
“He isn’t the kind to make excuses after losing. It’s his confidence that even without full force, he can win.”
‘I wonder how much power he has been hiding until now. Regardless of our victory or defeat today.’
Bading chose not to voice that thought aloud.
“But it’s surprising. How did Johnstein manage to gather such a large army in such a short time? Both you and I thought it would take at least another week, didn’t we?”
“We couldn’t even assemble our full forces because of it. It must have been a premeditated plan…”
“It’s impossible for him to gather an army so quickly without having them stationed at Denmoju. We’ve been outplayed. My instincts have clearly dulled.”
Observing Lumerier’s sour expression, Bading asked, “Did you rush your son’s funeral too much? Wouldn’t it have been better to settle this battle first and take care of it slowly?”
“No need. I can’t show any weakness over something like that.”
Lumerier paused momentarily due to the dust cloud rising. The standard-bearer strained to keep the flag from toppling over due to the wind.
‘The death of a son isn’t just “something”. Was his grieving all an act?’
Bading admired Lumerier’s cold pragmatism, but this aspect of his character made him uncomfortable.
“Where’s Violet?”
The wind died down, and Lumerier asked.
Bading checked the fluttering of the flag first. It was a west wind. Their position, facing the wind, wasn’t ideal. But the commanders of the Black Lion knew about this wind and didn’t consider it a significant issue. They were officers confident in their capabilities, far superior to the commanders of the Red Rose Count. So far, their confidence had paid off, and Bading didn’t interfere.
“She’s been taken care of.”
Violet was a favorite concubine of Lumerier. However, she was recently caught meeting young men when the Count was busy and had fled in the middle of the night. Already infuriated by Johnstein’s blatant challenge, Lumerier had ordered her immediate execution without any trial. Bading had dispatched his men who slit Violet’s throat just half a day after she left Leang.
The subordinate who executed Violet confidentially informed Bading, “We’ve acquired some unnecessary information, Captain. The young man Violet was meeting was none other than the Count’s second son, Jacques.”
‘Does the Count know?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Then it’s truly unnecessary information. If the Count asks, just say we couldn’t find out.’
‘But Jacques isn’t exactly a tight-lipped man.’
‘Just pretend you don’t know until the end of this war.’
Bading took a moment to organize his thoughts before speaking.
“You no longer need to worry about the Violet matter.”
“What about the first guy?”
“There were two letters, and nothing’s wrong. Just as always.”
“Any contact from the north?”
“It came yesterday. I had a reliable merchant handle it.”
Count Lumerier nodded briefly.
“You’ve managed to handle it all amidst this chaos.”
“It wasn’t that much of a trouble.”
“It’s a blessing from God that you came to me.”
Bading offered a broad grin.
“You should thank the late Duke of Sheffield. If he were alive, I wouldn’t have moved no matter how good the conditions you offered.”
“I’m not foolish enough to steal a knight that the Duke valued most.”
“I know.”
Lumerier held the reins and stretched his back.
“I’m tired.”
“You didn’t rest until late last night.”
“Even for me, leading my entire forces out, how can I not be anxious?”
“You left a significant number of forces in Leang. It wasn’t exactly the entire force…”
“To me, it seems that way.”
The count began to wave his hand, gesturing for Bading to speak.
“I didn’t sleep last night, just pondered… when did you come to me?”
“About six years ago.”
“It was a month after the Duke passed.”
“Many people criticized me. Some even speculated that I had killed the Duke. I assumed you might have thought the same.”
“Why would I? Honestly, I’ve never given much thought to why you sought me out. It’s peculiar, but I was considering that just last night. Why did you come to me? Count Enoa was an option, you could have even gone directly under the King. Why me?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
Bading replied impassively.
“Who, other than Count Lumerier, could contain me?”
“You have this unique talent for flattering without it seeming insincere. Give it to me straight.”
“What does the reason matter?”
Bading swept his golden hair, which was covering his face due to the wind, aside as he spoke.
“Within Camort, the black armor suits the knight order best, and you owned it. I’ve always admired the Excelon Knights and liked wearing black armor.”
“Fair enough. Any reason is good.”
Another horseman holding a different lion flag rode up to them. He handed off the flag to another knight, then knelt on one knee before the Count.
“They’re not making the first move, so we’re about to initiate the attack.”
“I’ve already delegated all command authority to the generals. If the plans change, it’s within their power to adjust. Deliver that message.”
“Yes, sir. And…”
The soldier straightened his knee, stood up, and said with his head bowed.
“The captain of the Wolf Knights is currently in Drupho Plains.”
“Captain Wolf?”
A chill ran through Lumerier’s voice.
“Yes. He’s on the hill to the north. It’s a conspicuous spot, so the Red Rose side must have spotted him too.”
Bading quickly found the hill where Captain Wolf was located.
“He’s clearly visible. We must also be visible from there.”
Bading said as if greeting a guest.
“Is he alone?”
The Count asked.
“There appear to be two others with him. It doesn’t seem like a large force, as that area is not within the impact zone of this war…”
“It’s not that! Someone of Captain Wolf’s stature probably thinks they’ll be fine even with the impact of the war. They’re not our concern. Dismissed.”
The horseman got back onto his horse and took back the flag. The count then asked Bading in a whisper, careful not to be heard by other soldiers.
“What do you think his purpose is?”
Although he had said not to worry, Count Lumerier’s voice was full of displeasure.
“He didn’t come for fun, did he? Probably observing the battle.”
Bading sneakily poked at Lumerier’s anger. He was such a sturdy man that this wouldn’t be a big deal to him.
‘Captain Wolf.’
Without watching the crucial battlefield, Bading continued to watch Kassel.
‘Who on earth are you?’
Bading had organized several teams to gather information within Camort. Among them, his most trusted knight, Biang, was known for his swift and accurate information gathering, especially amongst the nobility. Yet, even Biang missed some information.
One such oversight was the emergence of Count Johnstein. How had he amassed wealth so quickly and how had he built such formidable military power? Speculation, based on limited information, suggested that half of it came from a surge in wheat harvest in his territory and the other half from trading a type of drug known as Zookhla. Though referred to as a drug, it was not officially banned by the royal family. It could be criticized, but it was not illegal to trade. However, it seemed unlikely that these factors alone would have allowed him to grow into a threat to the king. There had to be something else.
That’s when someone appeared, proposing to reveal exactly that. A sort of traitor. Through this traitor, Bading was able to know all of Latilda’s schedules. It was thanks to this traitor that he was able to prepare in advance for her visit to Normant, as if he was lucky.
Another piece of information that Biang missed was about Captain Kassel. After several encounters with him, Bading discovered an astonishing fact: Kassel was a Camort native. It was not particularly surprising considering the Wolf Knights consisted of members from various nations, including Camort.
Sheyden had originated from the royal knight’s office in Irophis.
Gerald was a famed mercenary known as the Fire Mercenary from Irophis.
Azwin was a renowned mercenary as well, whose name wasn’t hard to find among the famous mercenaries.
As for Dunmel, nothing could be discerned about his origin. But it was clear that Kassel, who was definitely from Camort, had an uncertain origin. There was no knight by the name of Kassel in any Camort knight squad. The few people who shared his name had died decades ago, and there were no others with a similar name.
‘Am I too fixated on this? But clearly Kassel… can’t use a sword.’
The horn that signaled the start of the war sounded.
Instead of the battlefield, Bading looked towards the hill where Captain Kassel stood. Three small figures that could only be distinguished as mounted on horses were moving back and forth. Bading was seized by the impulse to run towards Kassel and thrust his spear at him once more. If the battle hadn’t begun, he might have really done so.
As the Black Lion Knights began to march, the Red Rose Knights on the opposite side also moved. Both sides, with shields and spears held aloft in the first line, began to close the distance. Dust stirred up by the Red Rose Knights came billowing towards the Black Lion Knights, but they remained unflustered.
Soon, the Black Lion Knights stopped and raised their shields. The archer brigade following them drew their bows almost simultaneously. The Red Rose Knights’ archers also drew their bows almost at the same time.
A whistle was launched from the Black Lion Knights. Almost simultaneously, a horde of arrows blanketed the blue sky. Arrows also flew from the Red Rose Knights, crisscrossing in the air before falling into both camps. The shields of the shield-bearing soldiers were riddled with arrows, like porcupines.
“I heard recently that you’ve been raising your own knight brigade,” Lumerier said, satisfied with the superiority of their own archers in terms of accuracy and quantity.
“Yes. I’ve thought for a long time that we needed an elite force to counter the Twelve Thorns.”
“Those fellows who always hang around Count Johnstein? I’ve heard rumors that they’ve never lost a battle, is that true?”
“Unofficially…”
Bading laughed slightly at the ridiculousness of the word.
“…it’s true. There were four battles where all the Twelve Thorns were known to have participated, two large ones, two small ones, and we lost all four. It’s no exaggeration to say that the reason we failed to arrest Count Johnstein in Normant before was because of them.”
“Something happened on the way to Charles’? Unwanted rumors have been circulating. That they weren’t even scratched, and the Black Lion Knights fell clumsily from their horses. Even the woman in the carriage drew her sword.”
“The rumors do contain truth.”
Bading stated without hesitation.
Most of those around Count Lumerier tried to flatter him. Bading did not, and that was why Lumerier trusted him even more.
“But these circulating rumors aren’t good, so a few months ago I started training a group of knights who could match the Twelve Thorns head-on. There is an issue of morale after all.”
“Why keep this a secret from me?”
Lumerier asked with a teasing tone.
“It wasn’t a special secret. You’re hardly idle enough that I would need to report even the selection of just ten knights, aren’t you?”
“Well, yes… But they are, of course, in black… armor, right?”
The Black Lion Count subtly emphasized the word ‘black’.
“Even though I selected and raised them, they’re still part of the Black Lion Knights. Of course, they have black armor.”
“Good, ten black knights…”
Lumerier paused for a moment.
‘I understand his suspicions, but why ask at this timing?’
The Rose Knights charged forward first. The Black Lion forces countered with their shield-bearers and spear-wielders. The Red Rose infantry, about a hundred strong, followed the Rose Knights, letting out a collective battle cry.
The Count spoke.
“There’s talk… the overly loyal Black Lion Knights attacked Count Johnstein’s daughter… even killed Lumerier’s son to avoid suspicion.”
‘He’s not even trying to be subtle.’
Bading conceded.
“I was not always at your side, Count.”
“Rumors are dangerous, Bading. Look into the truth of the matter after killing Johnstein. If the black knight still appears after that guy dies, we’ll see what happens.”
The count yawned, blinking his tired eyes.
“Just hope those Black Knight bastards appear before you, wishing for their own death.”
The vanguards of the two armies finally clashed.
The Rose Knights broke through the Black Lion’s shields and spears, disrupting their front lines, and the following infantry charged into the disarray, wreaking havoc. The waiting Black Lion Knights engaged the Rose Knights and the battle quickly progressed.
“So, where are those ten knights? Are they participating in this battle?”
“No, they have a separate mission and were sent elsewhere.”
“There’s a mission even I don’t know about?”
“I’ll tell you after the battle.”
“If it’s important, you should have told me beforehand.”
“There’s a reason I’m telling you late. I think you’ll understand.”
“So, are the Twelve Thorns in their camp?”
“They’re in the fray now.”
The early advantage quickly turned against the Black Lion forces, as expected.
Shortly thereafter, another army arrived from the right of the plain. At a glance, there were well over a hundred Black Lion Knights and three hundred regular cavalry.
Caught off guard in the open plains, the flank of the Red Rose army collapsed instantly. Although slower, an equal number of infantry charged from the opposite flank, and the Red Rose army was hit simultaneously on both sides.
There was no response. They could only rearrange their formation to counter the ambush.
“Do you think they have a hidden strategy?”
Lumerier asked in a bored tone.
“Even if they do, it’s too late to use it. Usually, by this point, there’s no way to turn the tide.”
“Then it’s over. If Johnstein is over there, capture him and bring him before me.”
“The commander will handle it.”
“If only we could have ended this sooner. I should be thankful to Johnstein for starting this battle.”
Bading quietly nodded to his words, observing the battlefield. The state of chaos persisted. The formation of the Red Rose army, somehow surrounded by the Black Lion army, did not collapse but continued to hold out.
Bading had grown up on the battlefield from the age of thirteen and had seen more wars than anyone of the same age. He had experienced armies rising from the complete rubble and those crumbling from the brink of victory. The current battle was an entirely one-sided struggle where there seemed to be no reason for it to turn around. It was a more crucial time to minimize damage. Yet, a strange sense of danger lingered.
“It won’t collapse.”
Count Lumerier, hearing Bading mutter to himself, asked, “From my perspective, it already has.”
“When the enemy falls perfectly into a strategy, even if they have more troops, the morale plummets as the formation becomes disrupted. From that point, they become busy retreating, and striking the retreating enemy becomes the last duty of the winning army. However, that isn’t happening.”
“Maybe they have trained to never lose hope until the very end.”
“Most of them are nothing more than mercenaries. They are the ones who learned that such hopes only exist after surviving.”
Finally, Bading discerned the core of the battle. The strategy hadn’t failed. The enemies had undoubtedly panicked at this straightforward and heavy surprise attack. Yet, the Black Lion army was being swallowed up and devoured as if in an ant-lion’s den. The corpses piling up in the center of the battlefield weren’t of the Red Rose army.
The Black Lion Knights, who had attacked the flank of the Red Rose army by surprise, were annihilated.
“Escort team. All retreat, escorting the count.”
Bading commanded in a stiff voice.
Count Lumerier, who thought he had already won, misunderstood his words and protested, “It’s not time to go yet. I will greet Johnstein here.”
“It could be the other way around. Count, please go towards Normant first. I will follow you.”
The count stared at Bading with wide eyes, “Bading, explain so I can understand.”
“We lost.”
Bading spoke curtly.
“Even in this situation?”
Life returned to Lumerier’s languid face.
Almost laughing at the sight, Bading held back and, maintaining the composure of a knight, said with a slight smile, “We have no time, count. I can’t hold them off for long either.”
Bading watched the center of the battlefield again. The core of the battle was the Rose Knights.
A soldier from the Black Lion army flew into the air and fell down, cut in half. There was a Rose Knight with a sword large enough to be mistaken for a horse, and another red-armored knight with a silver spear was playing a significant role.
His eyes, hidden within the helmet, met Bading’s gaze from far across the battlefield. Bading thought his opponent must be smiling.
“Biang.”
Bading called his knight, who was almost invisible, always standing behind him. He was immediately by Lumerier’s side.
“Escort the count.”
Still unconvinced, Lumerier followed the knight’s guide and galloped away.
A Red Rose knight burst through the center of the Black Lion army and raced toward them. The red-armored knight lifted the spear he held and, from a distance that would have made him gasp for breath, he threw it. The spear, leaving his hand, went straight for the back of Count Lumerier’s head.
Unintentionally, Bading was between the spear and the count. Bading lifted the shield hanging by his horse, pushing it forcefully against the approaching spear. The spear stopped just in front of Bading’s face, piercing the shield. His shield-bearing hand trembled under the force of the shaking spear tip. Confirming that the count had disappeared into the distance, Bading threw the shield aside and drew his sword.
“Halt.”
Bading shouted.
The red-armored knight pulled his horse’s reins, stopping about ten paces from Bading. As Bading shook off the tremors from the blocked spear, he said,
“I am Bading, the guardian knight of the Black Lion Count. Who are you?”
“I am familiar with your name, Bading. I am Neph.”
“Neph. An unknown name, but seemingly a formidable force. Does the Rose Knights have many like you?”
“Eleven more.”
“Ah, that story. Quite a gloomy one.”
Bading held out his sword and spoke loudly.
“If you do not wish to reduce the number of Thorns to eleven, back off, Knight Neph. This battle is yours. Be satisfied with that today.”
“We have no intention of prolonging the war. Even if you stand in my way, that won’t be an obstacle for me.”
“Is that so?”
Bading, wearing a black helmet adorned with wing-shaped decorations on both sides, spoke with a cheerful tone.
“So shall we continue arguing about who is stronger? Meanwhile, my lord will escape to safety, which suits me fine.”
Neph did not hesitate at Bading’s taunt and drew his sword.
Bading charged forward first, and Neph deflected with practiced ease. The sound of their clashing swords echoed through the still unsettled battlefield, their collision vibrating the air with noise. They circled and clashed again, but neither yielded.
Another Rose Knight approached, but Bading was too occupied with his opponent to pay attention. That Rose Knight swiftly cut down the remaining five spearmen guarding Bading and rushed towards him.
“I am Kravzic of the Twelve Thorns. Neph can’t lose, but we don’t have time, so I’ll join.”
“Feel free. You can even bring all twelve.”
Despite facing two, Bading didn’t falter. His nimble movements blocked Kravzic’s massive sword, even allowing for a counterattack, which stunned the two Thorns Knights. Bading fought to buy as much time as possible, making them increasingly aggressive.
“Step back. Neph, Kravzic.”
At the command of a powerful voice, they sheathed their weapons without hesitation.
“Are you Knight Bading?”
Bading barely caught his breath and greeted the third Thorn Knight.
“Yes.”
He could still manage a smile, but honestly, he doubted he could handle another. If the Twelve Thorns were this formidable, the reversal that happened on the battlefield was not surprising. The armies, split front and back, must have been countered by those twelve knights.
‘It’s essentially like we’ve been beaten by those twelve today. Can’t blame the commanders. There’s no way they could plan for that.’
Bading regretted not bringing his ten elite knights.
The third knight spoke.
“It seems Lumerier has already fled.”
“As a knight, show respect even to the enemy’s lord. What’s your name?”
“Linke. Not a name you’d likely know.”
“I’ve decided to remember the names of the Thorn Knights from today. Kravzic, Neph, and Linke.”
“An honor indeed.”
Although the retreat order was given, the Black Lion’s forces did not hastily turn their backs. If they threw away their weapons and fled, all that would follow was a massacre. The cautious actions of the losing soldiers prevented the victorious Red Rose forces from easily giving chase.
“Knight Bading, go tell Lumerier that the Red Rose Count gives him one last chance.”
“I refuse.”
“I am aware you’re not in the position to respond directly.”
“So, you expected my lord to bow down?”
At this, Linke laughed so hard that his helmet rattled.
“I look forward to a proper match with you. But this place and time is not meant for us, Captain Bading.”
“I’m inclined to agree.”
“You’re free to leave. I’ll save the honor of killing you for when there are more spectators,” said a voice, resonating through the battlefield.
Bading, turning his head to respond, hesitated and cocked his head instead. “What’s your purpose, Linke?”
Linke, about to turn his horse around, paused as well. “That’s an odd question. Of course, it’s the victory of the Red Rose Count.”
“Quit the lies. You’re not one to fight for the victory of a ruler. Nor are you one to preserve a knight’s honor. Why the facade?”
“Why don’t you hurry back to your master before my other subordinates accidentally behead Lumerier.”
Linke responded nonchalantly. Bading, with his gaze still locked on Linke, galloped away.
Watching him leave, Linke turned to Neph and Kravzic. “Incredible. The man has insight, seeing right through people. How did he guess that from what I said?”
Neph just shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know about that, but he’s definitely a formidable fighter.”
Kravzic chimed in, “This was the first time anyone outside our Twelve Thorns could so easily parry my greatsword. Should we have let such a skilled knight live? Perhaps we might have exchanged this war’s victory for his life.”
Nodding in agreement, Linke said, “Even when he served under the Duke of Sheffield, he was hailed as the top knight in Camort. Killing such a man with three of us would not bode well for the Count’s reputation. We must keep in mind the circumstances after the victory.”
Neph then asked, “Shouldn’t you have fought him alone?”
“Don’t underestimate him. He didn’t give his all against you two. He was just biding his time, saving his strength.”
Turning his horse around, Linke headed back towards their base. “Was your pride hurt, Kravzic?”
“My apologies.”
“Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve. When we meet him again, fight Bading alone. I will give you that opportunity. Don’t rush. You two haven’t forgotten our objective, right?”
Looking at the three figures atop the northern hill, Linke added, “We haven’t forgotten.”
Neph and Kravzic simultaneously responded as they watched the three distant White Wolves.
☆ ☆ ☆
Kassel, having positioned himself on a comparatively high terrain, watched the end of the battle unfold. Gerald yawned beside him, and Sheyden held his spear, alert and vigilant. Kassel had insisted on witnessing the two armies clash, leading the other two to follow him just in case. General Jean Seigey stayed in the city, anticipating an imminent march towards Normant by the victorious army.
“Let’s go.”
Kassel turned his horse around. Gerald promptly followed, but Sheyden paused for a moment, examining a particular part of the battlefield. It seemed like he was searching for someone, not just observing the war.
“What’s up?” Gerald asked.
“Some bastards were staring us down. I was just returning the favor.” Sheyden shrugged off, turning his horse around.
“Who was it? Want to go skewer them?” Gerald joked, but no one laughed.
Kassel had a lot to say, but he bit his tongue to avoid biting it on the shaking horse. They rode towards Normant Castle using the quickest route. As they slowed down nearing the castle, Kassel finally opened his mouth.
“They were from the Rose Knights, right?”
“You’ve got good eyes. They’re incredibly skilled. Not something ordinary soldiers can handle.” Sheyden replied.
“Even the other soldiers were well trained around them. If such forces invade, strategy and planning go out the window. It’d be easier to accept that we can’t hold them off.”
A soldier on the city walls, recognizing Kassel, opened the city gates. The massive doors creaked open slowly.
“I would rather have Count Lumerier win. Although he is difficult, there seemed to be room for negotiation with him. But Count Johnstein…”
Kassel trailed off.
“Either way, negotiations would be tough. Honestly, doesn’t Count Lumerier dislike you? For now, we should stay on the sidelines. Besides, that finicky Count is heading our way. What’s the plan?”
Sheyden asked.
“So, as we discussed with General Jean Seigey yesterday, you’ll handle that part, right?”
The gate opened and the three entered.
Inside the gate was another grill door, raised high enough that Sheyden, on horseback, had to bow his head to pass through.
“What was the plan again?”
Sheyden asked after entering, and Kassel held up his hand.
“Oh, we didn’t discuss it beforehand, did we? I’m sorry.”
The expressions of the citizens near the gate in Normant were grim. There were still people carrying on with their daily lives, but many more were holed up in their homes, refusing to come out. Kassel, looking towards the east gate that faced the Drupho plains, said,
“Everyone was so on edge because of Dunmel’s situation that I couldn’t say anything.”
The assassination attempt on Gerald had caused a significant problem within the royal family. Although it could have been kept under wraps, Kassel decided not to hide it. He also suggested that the assassins might be involved in the current incident. The result was not good.
When Kassel publicly discussed the problem followed by the assassins from the border at the council table, the officials were outraged. The already timid king was so shocked by the news that his face crumpled, as if he had grown hundreds of white hairs. The king met separately with Dunathan and Kassel.
“So, you’re saying the assassin who attacked you infiltrated the royal palace?”
“Don’t consider it as a problem we brought with us.”
Kassel responded defensively.
The king, one hand clutching his forehead, appeared troubled.
“So, how should we handle this public opinion?”
“Just ignore it for now. It will be resolved soon.”
“Can I trust you on this?”
“We can at least handle the problem we’ve brought along.”
Kassel was firm in his response.
For some reason, the king seemed moved.
“How do you always know what’s on my mind?”
“I didn’t flatter you, did I?”
Kassel was taken aback.
“In a broader sense, you did. You feel like a friend I’ve known since childhood. You understand me so well.”
“Maybe because you’re used to talking to old people, my words, coming from a peer, seem to strike a chord? Please stop, Your Majesty. I don’t have time to entertain you right now.”
Fortunately, the king laughed at Kassel’s joke, and they were able to move past the moment. That didn’t mean the problem was resolved.
The White Wolves seriously contemplated how to handle the situation. The fact that they were attacked again, even after being victimized once, implied that further actions, even beyond assassination, wouldn’t be surprising. Despite it being the first issue they encountered upon entering Camort, they had forgotten about the assassins due to the unknown Black Knights and the issues of the two Counts.
Dunmel seemed to know the identity of these assassins, but was reluctant to explain how. Everyone decided to wait until he was ready. Finally, he explained it yesterday.
‘The name of the guild is Black Foot.’
No one interrupted Dunmel as he explained. Sometimes Azwin or Sheyden would use sign language to converse, but they never broke or intruded into the story. Kassel understood about half of it, so no one had to interpret his sign language. In other words, if anyone was secretly watching, only these four would understand the conversation.
‘They tattoo a black footprint on their eyeballs. The shape itself has no particular meaning. It’s just that the magic symbols accidentally resemble a footprint. If they divulge secrets, die during a mission, or betray the guild and run away, the command to burn immediately is given. To survive, they have to gouge out their eyeballs, but if they mess up, the magic triggers. It’s such a powerful spell that it can’t be cast unless the person willingly accepts it.’
Azwin, as if to kiss him, leaned close to Dunmel’s face and stared into his eyes. But she found nothing out of the ordinary.
‘I know what you’re all thinking. I was once a member of Black Foot.’
Azwin snapped her fingers.
“I knew it!”
Gerald grumbled as he held out a silver coin to Azwin. For some reason, Dunmel found relief in this sight. The lack of emotional expression on his usual face made even a small gesture like this stand out quickly.
Kassel momentarily felt an inexplicable pity for Dunmel.
‘The Black Foot is no longer on my eyes. If it was there, it would have burned me to death a long time ago.’
Dunmel communicated in sign language. Azwin hesitated with her hand holding the silver coin, and Gerald immediately took it back. He even managed to snatch one more.
Sheyden asked.
“What kind of bet are you guys making that money moves around so senselessly?”
“Shut up!”
Azwin yelled. Dunmel once again gave a faint smile.
‘I’m sorry for not telling you. But before I joined the Wolf Knights, I killed a lot of people. I couldn’t face you all with such guilt. I wanted to forget. And I never thought I would ever have contact with the past again. If you found out how I entered the Wolf Knights, it would make it more difficult for me to face you, so I won’t tell.’
Azwin vented her frustration of losing money at Dunmel.
“Was it the queen who undid the magic in your eyes?”
Dunmel was taken aback. Then, he nodded weakly.
Azwin continued to press him, like someone tormenting a jilted lover.
“Well, then it’s settled. If killing people is the measure, then all of us here are living with guilt, without exception. Don’t act like you’re the only one caught up in a tragic fate. Even my past was…”
“Enough, Azwin.”
Sheyden interrupted her in a reproachful tone.
“Hey, why do you only go after me when we meet?”
“Because you’re the only one.”
Azwin turned her head sharply, like a scorned lover.
Sheyden opened his mouth again, looking at Dunmel.
“Well, Azwin isn’t wrong. Of course, none of the Wolf Knights will probe into your past, Dunmel. So no matter what you did in the past, let’s just focus on the future. Actually, even Franz in the past…”
“Huh? Franz?”
Azwin perked up her ears.
“Hmm, we don’t need to talk about this. But Dunmel, you know how they work, right?”
Sheyden asked. Azwin interrupted the conversation.
“What happened with Franz?”
Pushing Azwin away, Sheyden only asked Dunmel.
“So, is there a separate way to find out who commissioned to kill us?”
Azwin sat on Sheyden’s lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“What happened to Franz? What happened to Franz Wolf, who was recognized to be the sixth White Wolf? Huh? Huh?”
Dunmel answered Sheyden’s question in sign language.
‘No. Even within the organization, it is arranged so that we cannot know who each person is targeting. And by the magic of the Black Foot, we cannot disclose who commissioned the work. Except for one person, excluding the Guild Master.’
“Where is the organization?”
Sheyden asked.
‘It was originally in Lontamon. However, the location always changes. Even if I was a member there, I wouldn’t know know anything helpful.’
“Let us know later if you think of something. After this, no one should mention the relationship between Dunmel and Black Foot, even as a joke.”
Sheyden decided as if he were a judge.
Azwin continued to tempt Sheyden.
“What happened to Franz?”
“He got dumped by his lover and joined the Wolf Knights in a fit of anger.”
Sheyden put Azwin on the bed as he said this.
“Don’t lie! Your expression wasn’t that.”
Azwin kept digging into that issue.
News of another matter followed before the assassin issue was even resolved. News came that the army of the Red Rose was moving towards Normant. The royal family was shocked. The attack of the assassin was quickly forgotten. Kassel was surprised that the preparations for war had been completed so quickly.
“At this point, it seems the Red Rose Count must have prepared in advance before declaring war here? After all, Count Johnstein is not here to attack Normant.”
Kassel said.
“It is certainly worrying that we don’t know when the tip of the spear will point at us.”
General Jean Seigey, who was already pressed for time and preparing frantically, sounded almost resigned.
“With our current forces, it’s going to be difficult, right?”
Kassel asked,
“Considering the difference in troops, we can’t possibly stop them. Moreover, the royal soldiers are still undertrained, so we have to assume that their individual combat strength is low.”
The general spoke bluntly with his gruff tone. The air in the small room used as a strategy office was heavy with the worried sighs of the other commanders.
“Do we just have to see who wins based on what they do? It’s impossible to overpower them, so I guess we have to maintain balance between them.”
Kassel had heard a suggestion, and he casually proposed it, but the general laughed bitterly and shook his head.
“That would work if we had at least some military strength on our side. What happened to the reinforcements the nobles promised to send us?”
The stand-in for Dunathan, who was sitting next to the commander, responded.
“Only two hundred of the promised infantrymen have arrived. We have yet to hear from the rest.”
It was a blow that the army of Count Enoa had not arrived, let alone the other nobles. Without troops, the strategic conference merely passed the time without accomplishing much. In the end, they ambiguously agreed to monitor the situation and the meeting ended.
“…There were various things happening all at once that we couldn’t discuss,” Kassel said defensively.
“Even so, you should have discussed important matters.”
Sheyden spoke with a stern expression. Kassel felt his heart sink at the sight of it. He was used to Azwin’s bold emotional expressions, Gerald’s dry humor, and Dunmel’s taciturnity, but Sheyden’s blank face was still hard to deal with.
Kassel became stubborn.
“This time I acted first. So, you should follow me.”
Sheyden, who had been slightly ahead, turned around.
“What are you talking about?”
“Since everyone wasn’t ready to listen to me, I just…just acted first. So this time, you all have to follow me. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but I had no choice.”
As Kassel raised his voice, Sheyden laughed with a look of amusement on his face. A white horse suddenly came between them. At some point, Azwin, riding her white horse, had joined them.
“Oh my, the captain is angry? If everyone doesn’t listen, the captain pouts, and if everyone gets angry, the captain sobs, yo ho, yo ho.”
“I didn’t sob!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay. If it’s tough, you can cry all night in Sheyden’s arms and no one will gossip about it. But how did the battle go?”
Before Kassel could retort, Azwin seriously moved on to the next topic.
“Unexpectedly, the Black Lion Count’s army lost.”
Gerald answered.
“That red-haired guy, who was so sure of winning the war, really did win. So?”
“The captain will handle it. While sobbing.”
Gerald mocked Kassel, causing him to wave his hands in frustration.
“Why are you all like this?”
“Oh no! Who upset our adorable captain? You two should watch your words!”
Azwin scolded Gerald and Sheyden, wagging her finger at them.
‘Azwin is the worst of all!’
Kassel swallowed his words.
As they walked toward the eastern gate, Sheyden asked,
“So, what was the agreement between you and the general? Is it about letting Count Lumerier, who will undoubtedly flee this way, into the city?”
The soldiers standing by the eastern gate straightened as they spotted the four White Wolves. Dunmel and General Jean Seigey, who had arrived early, were waiting at the watchtower above the gate.
“No. The general said he wouldn’t let anyone in.”
A knight, who had been appointed to the royal knight order under General Jean Seigey two days ago, approached Kassel with a report.
“Captain Wolf! The Black Lion Count is currently leading his soldiers towards us from the east. Please come up to the tower.”
“Understood.”
Kassel responded in a deep voice and ascended the stairs with everyone. Some soldiers were holding two or three flags and spears. As Kassel passed by, they respectfully greeted him, saying ‘Captain Wolf,’ and bowed their heads. Kassel naturally accepted their greetings.
“Not letting him in? That means you’re driving him away, isn’t that bad?”
Azwin asked. Her braided hair bounced up and down with every leap up the stairs.
“Even if we lost the battle today, his formidable rear troops are stationed just a day’s journey away, in a fiefdom. What was it? Leang? If we repel them, we’ll face retaliation later.”
“According to the General, they won’t be able to retaliate. Neither will the Red Rose Count. He confidently asserted that neither side would attack us.”
“Sounds like baseless confidence to me.”
Azwin commented. Kassel responded with an ambiguous nod.
Kassel climbed the watchtower, lightly saluted General Jean Seigey, and took his place beside him. Count Lumerier and his guards were almost at the castle gates.
General Seigey raised his hand. The five commanders waiting on the watchtower simultaneously raised their flags. Then, the fifty soldiers waiting below raised the flags and spears they held in their arms in unison. From the outside, it appeared there were quite a few troops within the castle.
Kassel thought there was no need for such deception against the two Counts, but the General thought otherwise. His argument was that it was a simple trick, surprisingly hard to see through.
Kassel continued his conversation with Azwin in a low voice.
“General Seigey says we only need to show them we have a minimal force. Then, unless they truly intend to usurp the throne, they can’t recklessly attack Normant. Depending on which side we align with, one will end up facing two opponents.”
Kassel lowered his posture so that Count Lumerier, who had reached outside the castle, couldn’t see his face. Azwin, who was squatting next to him and peeking out, murmured.
“On the other hand, couldn’t they just ignore us? They have ten thousand troops, why would they consider who a few hundred align with?”
“We’ll see soon enough.”
☆ ☆ ☆
The Black Lion Count’s black horse was strikingly magnificent, even from a distance. Rumor had it that it was the fastest horse in Camort. There was a joke that the reason the Count’s knights wore black armor was to match the horse’s color, and it certainly seemed worth it. The black horse, not even being controlled by the Count, stood firmly on the ground, head held high. If Bading, an average knight, were mounted on it, he would’ve easily scared away a hundred soldiers with just his form.
Count Lumerier, flanked by knights on either side, took a deep breath once they all stopped, and then shouted.
“Open the castle gates.”
Although there would already have been an order regarding this, for procedural confirmation, the gatekeeper looked up. General Seigey stood on the watchtower and nodded.
“It’s been a while, Count Lumerier.”
The General said, looking down from the watchtower.
“Jean Seigey! Was there such a lack of talent in Camort that you were assigned to this position again? Even in defeat, the soul of General Gilter, who had a head-on battle with Captain Welch, must be weeping.”
The Count’s few words had left the General speechless.
“Open the gates and welcome me, General Seigey. We have a long discussion ahead.”
Kassel thought the General would agree. The General seemed deflated by the Count’s first words. Fortunately, the General refused.
“I can’t do that, Count. His Majesty has forbidden both you and Count Johnstein from entering Normant. He was quite upset and angered by both sides using the King’s safety as an excuse to wage war at Normant’s doorstep.”
“What nonsense are those sitting next to His Majesty spreading?”
Count Lumerier shook his head as if it was pathetic, and then suddenly changed his words.
“Or is that opinion representative of Captain Wolf?”
“I represent only the opinion of His Majesty.”
Count Lumerier scanned the castle.
‘He’s looking for me.’
Kassel, sticking his eye out from a narrow stone gap, was anxious not to be discovered.
“Do you take me for a coward? If Johnstein’s soldiers rush here, can these royal guards alone defend the vast castle walls of Normant? Surely, you will need the troops I left at Leang.”
“Who said Normant’s military power is weak? I don’t think so.”
The General pointed to the banners and spears that were ostentatiously displayed outside the castle.
“Were you planning to bring reinforcements?”
“Do not dismiss me as a has-been, Count. I too have made preparations.”
The General’s confidence had fully returned. However, Kassel’s unease remained. He had only faced Count Lumerier once, but the Count was a strong figure, one who could claw his way up even if cast into the deepest pits of hell.
“You seem rather pitiful, showing off like this, General Jean Seigey. Show me not only the flags and spears, but the faces of all your soldiers. Are you threatening me with empty bravado?”
The Count’s voice thundered out.
“You may think it’s bravado. Step aside. We don’t want to attack you.”
“We? Is there someone else besides you? Or did you choose the word ‘we’ to avoid responsibility? If you’re the one chasing me away, then call it ‘I’. Say, ‘I, Jean Seigey, am refusing to let the Black Lion Count enter and driving him away!'”
Jean Seigey retorted without backing down.
“Yes, Count Lumerier. This is my decision. I take all responsibility and I am refusing to let you in.”
Lumerier deliberately laughed loudly.
“How laughable and pathetic. Old soldier. Straining with all your might to maintain your newly regained position as a general. All you need now is a comfortable chair in front of a fireplace and an old dog to grow old with. What are you doing standing there without even the strength to hold a sword?”
Jean Seigey clenched his fist at the Count’s words. Kassel, who had not yet experienced the torment of growing old, could not fully understand what in the Count’s words could drain an old soldier’s strength so. Despite how he might have been feeling, the General responded to the Count’s words as if unbothered.
“Count, you should realize how ugly you appear right now. Are you saying such things thinking that it will damage my honor, or that I will agree with your words and open the gate? It’s just self-satisfaction. The gate will not open for such reasons.”
‘I feel more and more uneasy. Would the White Wolves feel this nervous if I were the one speaking?’
Kassel felt newfound respect for the silent White Wolves who were always standing behind him.
“Struggling with an unopened gate is not a new tale.”
The Count laughed, a sour look on his face. And for a moment, he said nothing.
The soldiers holding the spears and banners trembled with tension, and those prepared for a contingency looked to the General for cues. The General himself found the Count’s silence more difficult to bear than the heated exchange thus far.
His tense atmosphere infected the soldiers, and they began to glance back at Kassel, standing behind them. However, Kassel kept his arms crossed, lowered his head as if deep in thought. It was not his time to step forward.
Kassel was waiting for his moment.
‘I just wish he would back down. Please, don’t say it. If you say it, I’ll have to respond.’
Kassel gritted his teeth and strained his ears.
Finally, Lumerier opened his mouth.
“We’ll see what kind of trouble comes from refusing to accept me. General, do you really think the King can stand alone?”
His voice grew louder.
“Do the soldiers there, or the lords hiding behind them think the same? Do you believe that a few forces gathered from local lords and royal guards could stand against the ruthless mercenaries of Johnstein?”
Now he started to threaten outright.
“Listen, soldiers of Normant. Your chance will not come again. If your ruler is not the Red Rose Count but the King himself, you should have opened the gate by now. I can only hope the Rose’s army that will soon invade is as merciful as I am.”
Kassel shut his eyes tightly. As expected, Count Lumerier was a man who, if he couldn’t achieve his goal, would inevitably take something of equivalent value. Lumerier had just openly expressed his wish for Count Johnstein’s army to crush Normant. His intent was to break the morale of the soldiers.
‘He finally said it.’
Kassel slowly poked his head out of the fortress.
Count Lumerier had already turned his horse. The Black Lion Knights followed their Count in turn. The soldiers in the fortress were holding their breaths. All were scared stiff. General Jean Seigey, too, said nothing, standing with his back to the departing count, relieved that he was leaving without further argument.
“Isn’t it unreasonable, Count Lumerier, to claim that an army unable to defeat the Twelve Thorn Knights can protect His Majesty the King?”
Kassel spoke loudly, standing next to the general.
General Jean Seigey was taken aback, his eyes wide, and Count Lumerier halted his horse. He turned his head to look behind him before fully turning his horse around.
“Captain Wolf. I knew you were there all along. You must’ve worked hard to keep that meddlesome tongue of yours under control until now.”
The Count’s animosity, hidden until now, poured out all at once towards Kassel. Regret surged in Kassel for impulsively stepping forward. Perhaps the final warning was not for others, but a tactic to provoke Captain Wolf.
‘I must not falter. The soldiers need to know that there are White Wolves in Normant.’
Kassel calmly raised his hand and spoke.
“Did I have a hard time? But as for your last statement, it was so curious I couldn’t help but ask. If you enter this fortress, Count Johnstein, as warned, will invade. But if you do not enter, he won’t invade, right?”
“Do you believe in the promise of Johnstein?”
“I don’t know who to trust. I’m trying not to doubt the loyalty of the nobility of Camort towards His Majesty.”
“Are you daring to measure me against Johnstein?”
“That’s my personal opinion. I’m scared of both sides, you see.”
“You’re managing minor crises at the moment without considering my future wrath.”
“Then hope that Count Johnstein captures Normant. In that case, I’ll definitely run to Leang for help, Count Lumerier. But there won’t be a need. At least Normant seems sturdy enough to withstand one noble’s army.”
Count Lumerier shouted without any hint of wavering.
“Don’t be overconfident, Captain Wolf. I’ve long forgotten you’re here as a guest of the country. It’d be wise to watch your words.”
“I’m still here as a guest, you know.”
Kassel feigned innocence. It was times like these that he missed Azwin.
“I have another question. You’re retreating now, isn’t there a pursuing unit? Are you alright? There are only two knights guarding you.”
The Count glared at Kassel with fiercely widened eyes. It was such a long, tense stare that even the onlookers felt anxious.
“Captain Kassel, next time we meet, you might have to look up at me.”
Finally, he turned his horse and galloped away. The dust stirred by the knights accompanying him rose in a hazy cloud.
General Jean Seigey, who had been holding his breath, let it out all at once and spoke to Kassel.
“Why did you provoke him with unnecessary words? You should’ve just let him go.”
Kassel licked his parched lips once and responded.
“I’m having slight regrets. What about the Red Rose Knights?”
“Scouts will be back soon. Whether victorious or defeated, if the army is headed our way, they’ll wave a yellow flag, and if they go elsewhere, a white flag. If, as Count Lumerier warned, the Red Rose Knights head towards Normant, we’re done for.”
“That makes sense. Especially with Count Enoa’s forces absent. But do you really think Count Johnstein would attack Normant? A place where His Majesty resides? If you were the commander instead of the Count, would you attack Normant?”
“No, I would push forward and crush Leang, and consider Normant later. This place doesn’t need to be dealt with right now.”
“Let’s hope Count Johnstein thinks the same way.”
When Kassel looked behind, Azwin and Sheyden were engaged in a quiet conversation. Without knowing what Sheyden had said, Azwin tilted her head and burst out laughing. Her laughter, regardless of when he saw it, was always beautiful. Accidentally meeting her gaze, Kassel quickly pretended to survey beyond the fortress wall.
A scout was returning from the battlefield on horseback.
He was waving a white flag.
–TL Notes–
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