White Wolves – Chapter 27

When Azwin stepped out of the bathroom, Sheyden was outside, arms crossed, waiting for her. Perhaps feeling the intensity of Sheyden’s gaze, she lifted her hand and mimicked his posture.

“What are you staring at? Rude kid.”

With a nod of his head in a particular direction, Sheyden walked away. As Azwin followed him, she once again rubbed her lower abdomen. Sheyden inquired,

“Weren’t you alright just last night?”

“I was. But it started this morning.”

“Is it a bit milder now?”

“Probably worse by tomorrow. Damn, I thought it was next week… But why do you even remember my schedule?”

“Roughly, I remembered it was this week… Besides you, there are other women in the knightly groups. If I can’t remember such things, it’s hard to manage the sensitive ones. Especially since they see their femininity as a complex. It’s less so since you’re around, but they’re sensitive about this topic.”

Sheyden mentioned the nostalgic names of the Wolf Knights.

“Marla used to cross-dress when she was a mercenary, and Sildire even asked me if there was some kind of spell that made her not want to have babies… At least you’re more open about it, so it’s less sensitive.”

“Ha, really? Weren’t they the ones that didn’t like me?”

“There’s a difference between disliking someone personally and respecting them as a knight.”

“So, they dislike me on a personal level?”

Sheyden didn’t deny it, which seemed to mildly shock Azwin.

“Why did the Red Rose army attack when I’m like this?”

“Who knows? Should I go ask?”

Sheyden replied sarcastically.

Annoyed, Azwin playfully kicked his backside.

“Get a haircut. It looks awful, being half burned.”

From the royal observatory, they could clearly see the army of the Red Rose Count positioned beyond the outer walls of Normant. Around 200 infantry soldiers, split into eight squads, formed square-shaped lines, with cavalry circling around them.

“They’re not in battle formation yet. The number isn’t as many as I thought, perhaps around two thousand?”

Azwin squinted, trying to estimate their number.

“Two thousand might not seem like a huge force, but it’s enough to break down Normant. We only have three hundred.”

“Where’s Kassel?”

“In the conference room.”

“Who’s with him?”

“Gerald.”

“Not much help in a meeting then.”

According to Gerald, a meeting is best attended by those who are unhelpful.

“On what grounds?”

“What does the basis matter? It’s Gerald.”

“Right.”

Azwin laughed heartily, then leaned against the railing, looking in the direction of the conference room.

“The lords must be in chaos, huh?”

“No one expected the Red Rose Count to act like this. Not Kassel, not General Jean Seigey, and certainly not me. We were lucky to get the information early, thanks to Blackfoot, but knowing something early doesn’t necessarily mean we can do something about it.”

Sheyden stood next to Azwin, leaning against the railing as well. The royal garden was especially quiet today.

“What’s Dun doing?”

“In his room.”

“Is he ashamed because his long-hidden secret was exposed in such an awkward place?”

Azwin pondered.

“If you think that way, it might really help Dun. Always be this way.”

Sheyden advised. Azwin gave a strong pat on his shoulder.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

No maids were in sight. The palace administrators seemed busier than usual. In contrast, the gardener, who tended to the garden, seemed more relaxed than usual. It was fascinating that in such a situation, they were able to do what they always did.

“Did Dun really try to assassinate the queen? Is it true?”

Azwin asked.

“It must be. Why would someone lie about that?”

Azwin rested her chin in her hand, sighing deeply.

“I somehow feel like Dun has become distant. Am I becoming overly concerned?”

“Why? Are you disappointed?”

“Not that. No matter how much one says ‘the past is the past’, shouldn’t he have told me something as significant as that…?”

“Not just Dunmel, even the Queen herself didn’t tell us anything. She loves to chatter! There must be a good reason for it.”

“That’s exactly the part that hurts, Sir Sheyden. Even if there was a reason, she should have told us.”

Sheyden patted her shoulder.

“Dunmel’s the one who’s hurting the most. But he will be able to pick himself up.”

“Show off.”

Azwin stuck out her tongue at him and quickly left. Sheyden silently followed her.

“I’ll be staying at the rear this time. That’s okay, right?”

“It doesn’t matter where we stand. Our initial policy to avoid getting involved in battles remains unchanged. And wherever you are…”

Sheyden playfully tousled Azwin’s neatly combed bangs.

“I’ll make sure the enemy doesn’t get to you.”

“Oh, dear brother! What can I do to thank you? I’m so moved.”

Azwin jokingly headbutted Sheyden’s chest. She hit him harder than expected, causing Sheyden to stagger backward.

While fixing her hair and chuckling, Azwin heard the loud chatter of people outside the window. Crossing the busy bridge was a knight in red armor, slowly riding in.

“A knight from the Rose Knights?”

The knights surrounding him were newly appointed royal knights, including Captain Jarlan. They weren’t guarding him. The tense breaths of the anxious royal knights were palpable.

Azwin squinted, trying to identify the knight. He wore armor but had no helmet and no weapon. Yet, it was clear he wasn’t just a simple messenger.

“That guy, didn’t we see him at a party before? Gerald knew him.”

Azwin commented. Sheyden quickly recalled.

“Linke. He’s the captain of the Rose Knights.”

☆ ☆ ☆

King Charles was furious and agitated, a rare sight.

“How can such a large army invade overnight? Weren’t we told it would take at least three days?”

Kassel shared the information he had received from Heder of the Blackfoot with the council and the command. Until then, the consensus was that it would take three days for the forces gathered at the Drupho Plains to reach Normant and another three days to prepare for an invasion. Yet, as Heder said, they surrounded Normant in just one day, swiftly and flawlessly, as if they had trained for a long time.

Count Luror strongly criticized,

“Moving troops at night is not what noble armies do. The Red Rose Count surely has forgotten his respect to His Majesty. If this continues, he might forget his duty as a subject and bring his army to Normant.”

“So, in Count Luror’s opinion, should we engage them? Do you believe we can win if we fight? Speak specifically!”

The king questioned.

“As for battles, General Jean Seigey…”

“Enough with this talk of dignity and respect, Luror! Why does Count Johnstein’s manners matter here?”

For the first time, Kassel saw King Charles scold the old count. Strangely proud amidst this crisis, he watched the elder fluster as the king sharply asked General Jean Seigey,

“What do you think, General? Can you predict the army’s next move?”

The general lowered his head, “I’ve already been wrong in my assumptions. Thus, I can’t confidently speak about the forthcoming situation, Your Highness.”

“Still, let’s hear it.”

The king urged.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Although their numbers are indeed large, it doesn’t seem they intend to really attack Normant. They brought no siege weapons, and not even ladders to scale the walls.”

The king turned to Kassel.

“What do you think, Captain Wolf? Since you were the first to bring this information, share your thoughts.”

“I wouldn’t want to be too certain, but I do agree with the general.”

Kassel whispered.

“But they wouldn’t have led over two thousand troops to tour Normant, whether they planned to attack or not. Considering they are still in a standoff with Count Lumerier, wouldn’t they have a specific purpose for diverting such a force to Normant?”

It was unexpected that Count Johnstein did not immediately attack Leang, which was Count Lumerier’s domain. Strategically speaking, it would have made sense to first conquer Leang and then secure Normant. Taking over Leang would mean getting Normant for free.

Even Kassel, a novice in strategy, understood this much. So there’s no way the war-seasoned Count Johnstein wouldn’t see this advantage. The same thoughts concerned General Jean Seigey, who seemed to be having a hard time predicting the situation. However, their questions were soon answered.

“Leang is under attack.”

Gene Dunathan’s deputy quickly entered the meeting room, holding a small note. He had not joined the meeting, expecting a raven sent from his subordinates in Leang and Denmoju. Knowing the situation in Leang was as crucial as the meeting, hence his absence was excused.

“The note reads, ‘The Lion’s fortress is under attack, and the situation is greatly unfavorable to the Lion.’ General, your calculations weren’t wrong. It’s just that Count Johnstein’s forces exceeded our expectations. He was able to station troops in both Leang and Normant.”

“He’s confident enough to split his forces and conquer both fronts,” the general remarked, nodding. Suddenly, he paused. A realization dawned on him, and Kassel’s eyes widened with the same thought.

“He didn’t split his forces… did he?” Kassel questioned.

“What are you getting at, Captain?” the King inquired.

Kassel hesitated, first glancing at General Jean Seigey. Such statements would be better coming from the general. But the general nodded at Kassel to proceed.

“All his main forces are in Leang. What we see as a large number isn’t substantial for Count Johnstein.”

The King looked perplexed. Kassel further explained, “He assumed he could take over Normant without using much of his forces. The number of troops currently stationed outside the fortress is roughly two thousand. To Count Johnstein, this isn’t a considerable force, but he believed it was enough to conquer Normant.”

“But isn’t it known that there are more than two thousand troops in Normant? Didn’t you say that, General? We’re being deceived,” the King sighed in distress.

Kassel continued, somewhat awkwardly, “It seems he knows we don’t have reinforcements.”

“How?”

The King grew more alarmed at the increasing likelihood of an invasion. General Jean Seigey spoke calmly, “It wasn’t a secret we could keep for long. The mistake was mine for underestimating Count Johnstein’s strength.”

‘I share the blame.’

Kassel silently admitted.

All the commanders were concerned solely about Count Lumerier, celebrating his retreat. They viewed him as a formidable Lion that had gone home. After their victory at the Drupho Plains battle, the Rose’s troops hurriedly moved to Leang, planning to quickly confirm their victory. Leang’s high walls meant a prolonged battle, and in the meantime, they intended to reinforce Normant’s defense. However, their calculations were off.

“What should we do now?” the King asked, surveying everyone.

Viscount Luror spoke, “The situation is dire, but it’s not as if the Red Rose Count has attacked yet, right? The ball is in their court. We have to wait.”

“Wait? That’s rather humiliating,” the King sighed with a chuckle. Kassel smiled wryly.

‘You’ve grown stronger, Your Majesty.’

He wanted to voice this but refrained, knowing everyone probably felt the same.

The meeting room doors swung open, and a soldier rushed in, kneeling from a distance, shouting, “Please forgive my intrusion. There’s an urgent message.”

“Speak.”

“Half an hour ago, three knights came rushing to the eastern gate from Count Johnstein’s camp. Two of the knights promptly returned, but one came in alone, announcing his name and title to the King.”

“Who was he?”

“A Thorn Knight under Count Johnstein, named Linke.”

“Linke?”

Gene Dunathan whispered an explanation to King Charles. Kassel had a foreboding feeling.

“What should we do?”

The king asked everyone. They were all perplexed. Even if an invasion was imminent, it hadn’t happened yet. Thus, it was challenging to reject the official request. Any excuse could be used by the eager count, who wanted to enter Normant. Accepting the request was equally problematic. Neither option was easy. Kassel remained silent.

The advisors and the general agreed they should hear the knight out. Yet, Kassel kept thinking that, no matter the pretext, he shouldn’t let him inside the castle gates.

‘The advisors are right. It would be a blow to the king’s dignity if he chased away just one knight out of fear. Naturally, he should let him in. Perhaps he could persuade him to disband his troops. After all, he’s the king! No matter how powerful a noble is, facing backlash from other nobles is intimidating. Therefore, negotiating now is the right thing.’

The king accepted the advisors’ opinion.

“Very well. Bring him in.”

The soldier who brought the news hurriedly left the conference room.

Kassel sighed silently.

‘Why do I feel so uneasy?’

Kassel glanced back at Gerald standing behind him. Gerald scratched his head, sought the king’s permission, and left the conference room.

‘Where are you going, Gerald?’

Kassel asked with his lips, but Gerald had already left.

☆ ☆ ☆

‘Everyone talks as if they’ve witnessed a battle they haven’t seen.’

Gerald was overhearing the soldiers inside the castle talk about the fame of the Rose Knights, who led the victory in the Drupho Plains battle.

When Captain Linke entered, the guards were on high alert, noting his every small movement. Linke, having disarmed and only holding his helmet, walked in. Even his slightest gestures made the soldiers jumpy.

‘The event leading up to the Drupho Plains battle is also combined. Trying to arrest the Red Rose Count in the middle of Normant and failing must also seem like one of his accomplishments. Regardless of the reality.’

From the tower, Gerald looked down on Captain Jarlan taking over the escort duty from the gate guards. With a bridge between them, Jarlan and Linke walked towards each other. But there wasn’t the expected stand-off between the two knights, as Gerald had hoped. Jarlan had bowed his head.

‘That overpowering gaze, then and now, remains the same.’

Gerald went down from the tower and positioned himself in the hallway where Linke would pass.

The sound of red armor and a red cloak echoed as it approached. Clank clank, the sound of armor hitting the floor chilled the surroundings. Linke still showed no unusual behavior.

Finally, when Linke spotted Gerald, he stopped walking. Jarlan and the royal knights accompanying him did the same.

“Hey, Linke!”

Gerald, leaning against the railing of the hallway as if just spotting him, waved. Linke stared expressionlessly at Gerald for a long time before speaking.

“You seem to remember me, Gerald.”

“In my life, there weren’t many competitors. How could I not recognize one?”

Gerald chuckled.

Linke retorted sarcastically.

“Am I really on your competitor list? That’s an honor.”

“Wow, since when did you start being humble?”

“People change.”

Gerald walked leisurely and stood in front of Linke. Linke didn’t budge. His face still cold and expressionless, he said,

“Why show up and act like you know me now, Gerald? I’m rather busy.”

“If I wanted to pretend, I would have done so at the party. But you were busy with your lord then.”

“Was that so? I don’t remember. Indeed, I was very busy back then.”

Gerald gave a slight gesture with his thumb.

“Shall we talk about how busy it was? The conference room is this way.”

Gerald winked at Jarlan and walked beside Linke. Naturally, Jarlan and his knights stepped back a few paces and followed.

“How have you been?”

Gerald inquired.

“That’s quite lackluster, Gerald. Being a White Wolf, I expected a more interesting question from you.”

Linke walked, gazing straight ahead.

“Is that so? But the Wolf Knights didn’t teach such things, so I haven’t changed since the old days. It would be sad if even you, who knows me well, said so.”

Gerald spoke as if he was a bit frustrated.

“But I thought you would cause bigger problems. Were you only serving a single family as their knight?”

Linke’s previously emotionless eyebrows slightly moved.

‘Ah, I seem to have touched a nerve.’

Gerald continued to chatter as if he was playing a clueless gossip.

“Why? Those Woodland Knights, despite the name, weren’t their plans top-notch? I expected better now that you’re older, given you conceived it when you were young…”

“Enough!”

Linke’s voice slightly elevated.

“Leave the stories from our childhood. Did you show up just to reminisce?”

“Is it not fun?”

“What’s so fun about that story?”

“You genuinely look unamused. You seem devoid of enthusiasm.”

“Compared to you, anyone would look that way.”

“Why are you acting this way? Weren’t you a pretty entertaining guy during our mercenary days? Just because our perspectives differed, wasn’t there a joy in honing our swordsmanship?”

“I’ve never found joy in swordplay. Not then, not now.”

Gerald chuckled in a restrained manner.

“Is it because you always lost to me?”

Linke’s pace slightly slowed, then resumed its original speed. He asked,

“Do you remember Bauman?”

“Ah, the mercenary from Irophis! I remember him. Always bragging, mostly about women.”

“He was one of the few who defeated me.”

“He was rather strong. But why bring him up?”

“He’s dead.”

“Really? Where?”

“I don’t remember where.”

For the first time since they started walking, Linke looked at Gerald.

“I remember only that I killed him. After that, I hunted down and killed anyone who ever defeated me. Whether it was a life-or-death duel or an assassination, it didn’t matter.”

Gerald halted, and so did Linke. His voice dropped further as he continued.

“I might not remember every fight we had. But I distinctly remember never defeating you.”

Just outside the conference room, Gerald pondered on what to say next. His choice of words weren’t refined, as he usually just blurted things out.

“So, you want to kill me too? If it’s a duel… I’ll accept. More importantly, are your people really going to invade Normant?”

Jarlan, who had been silently listening from behind, stared at Gerald with visible disappointment.

‘What are you looking at like that, kid! Aren’t we on the same side?’

With a cold smile, Linke remarked,

“Lucky.”

“What’s so lucky?” Gerald asked, making a face as if he tasted something bitter.

“That the White Wolves are in Normant can be disregarded.”

“You cheeky lad!”

Gerald was livid, but Linke entered the conference room. Gerald was tempted to rush in and confront him but restrained himself, aware of the watchful eyes around them. He felt like a fish out of water, moving under the gaze of others.

The door to the conference room opened, revealing two guards and Kassel. Kassel looked somewhat unsettled, as if he had overheard their conversation.

‘Would you have done something different, Captain?’

Gerald felt disheartened.

With a gentle smile, Kassel greeted Linke,

“It’s been a while, Captain Linke. His Majesty is waiting.”

Linke entered the conference room without replying. Before shutting the door, Kassel turned to Gerald and relayed a brief message using Dunmel hand signs.

‘Wait here.’

Gerald glared at the closed door, then turned to Jarlan and inquired,

“I have a slight feeling I messed up with my words. What do you think, Captain Jarlan?”

Jarlan, with a deflated tone, responded,

“It was more than just ‘slight’.”

Linke entered the council room with confidence but without rudeness. He knelt respectfully before the king and kept his head down, waiting to be told to raise it. He seemed as though he might brazenly demand a crown, but his display of courtesy brought relief to the king and his ministers. However, Kassel felt his earlier anxiety intensify after meeting Linke face to face.

‘I mustn’t let my guard down! He’s not here just to greet.’

Count Luror commanded,

“State your name, knight of Count Johnstein.”

“I am Linke, the captain of the Rose Knights under Count Johnstein, and one of the Twelve Thorns.”

“Do you have any other surname besides your given name?”

“I do not.”

“Judging by your name, you seem to be from Irophis. How did you end up serving under the nobility of Camort?”

“I am not here to introduce myself, but solely to convey my lord’s intentions.”

“You stand before the king, and you have a duty to identify yourself.”

Linke paused before answering.

Luror, with a stern expression, looked down at him and insistently inquired again,

“Under what circumstances did you become a knight for the Count?”

Linke, who had been kneeling, suddenly stood up without permission.

“May I now convey my lord’s message to His Majesty?”

Count Luror waved his hand, indicating his displeasure.

“How dare you speak directly to His Majesty, Captain Linke! If your lord has a message for the king, follow the proper protocol.”

“And what might that protocol be?”

“You should have the seal of the Red Rose family. Bring it in a document. Otherwise, how can you prove your words to be those of your lord?”

“You’re implying that the captain of the knights cannot represent his lord?”

“How do you prove you are the captain of the Rose Knights? You stand before His Majesty. Without proper procedure and formality, no words will be recognized.”

Linke gave a fleeting glare to Luror, who stood to the king’s right. However, Luror remained unfazed. Perhaps he was the only one able to withstand the tension in the air.

“Very well, I will prepare the document later, including the seal of Count Johnstein as you mentioned.”

Unexpectedly, Linke seemed to acquiesce. Luror nodded as if it was expected.

“Then go and return later with that document…”

“No, I meant I would provide the document later. I must relay the message I came with now.”

Without allowing for any interruptions, Linke quickly continued,

“And please wait for the documentation of what I’m about to say. It might take time, but if that’s the only way to prove it, I will. Though I don’t know if my lord ever carried a seal from Denmoju in his war chest..”

The ministers all exchanged shocked glances, murmuring in disbelief. Yet, Luror, unshaken, shouted,

“You insolent, we have a royal law here and you dare to…”

“According to my lord’s words. After the Duke of Sheffield passed, His Majesty should appoint the Red Rose’s Count Johnstein as the guardian family for Camort!”

As Luror spoke simultaneously, Linke’s voice was more subdued and slower. Although Luror’s voice initially drowned out Linke’s, Linke continued without hesitation, effectively silencing Luror.

“The Black Lion’s Count Lumerier should be deemed an enemy of the kingdom. Then, in order to prevent the retaliation from Count Lumerier, guards will be stationed in the royal palace to protect Normant.”

Having delivered the message, Linke closed his mouth. But the aftermath of his short statement was immense. Dunathan’s face turned red as he clenched his fists, and King Charles adjusted his posture after swallowing hard.

“Are you implying a takeover of Normant?”

Even knowing it was a breach of protocol, Luror spoke on behalf of the king. He was visibly upset. But Linke simply did what he had to. He knelt on one knee again, awaiting the command to leave.

“Captain Linke, answer! What does this message mean?”

Luror shouted.

“I have no way to prove my words to you because I lack the stamp. Ah, do you call it a seal in your language? I’m not quite sure of the difference.”

Linke still spoke in a soft voice.

“In any case, within a month at the latest, I will send a detailed explanation with a letter stamped with a red rose. However, I do request that you act on what I just mentioned sooner rather than later.”

Luror was at a loss for words. Kassel gritted his teeth.

In the childish showdown, Linke easily came out on top. Even Luror, who was experienced in such mental games, couldn’t handle such provocation. Linke’s warning was reminiscent of a tantrum thrown by a child demanding a cookie – it was vexing, something they could neither accept nor refuse.

“Is that all you wish to convey?”

King Charles inquired briefly.

“Yes.”

Linke responded with a respectful nod.

“It cannot be accepted.”

The king replied in a subdued tone.

“I will convey your words.”

Linke did not argue. Instead, his initial request now seemed to carry even more weight. It was as if both the king of a nation and its general were being toyed with by the unseen Red Rose Count.

“Your Majesty, we should arrest this man at once. If we don’t publicly reprimand him soon, it might undermine your authority…”

King Charles interrupted the agitated Luror with a gesture of his hand. Then, he addressed Linke in a firm voice.

“I understand your intent. You may leave now, Captain Linke.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Linke promptly rose and crossed the council chamber. As he walked, he noticed Kassel standing silently to the side and paused. As if recalling something, he tapped his forehead with a finger and spoke.

“Ah, the Count had a message for Captain Wolf as well. He does not wish to be enemies with Aranthia. Leave Normant immediately… Did you hear that?”

Everyone was taken aback by this, but Kassel responded with a casual grin.

“I heard.”

Linke shot a brief glance his way and calmly exited the council chamber.

The moment the door closed, various voices surged towards King Charles.

“We must arrest him at once!”

“What’s the point of just arresting? Execute him!”

“It’s not a wise idea. They might use Captain Linke as a pretext to attack. Maybe that’s why he came in the first place?”

“What pretext could they possibly use to invade Normant for the actions of a single man?”

“Any excuse will do in this situation! Normant is isolated. Now’s not the time to be complacent.”

“We still have enough time to persuade Count Johnstein. We should invite Captain Linke to clarify things from the start, or perhaps summon the Count to this place.”

“You think he’d come if we summon him?”

“If he doesn’t, he’d be branded a coward. He’ll surely come, won’t he?”

“Who could possibly label Count Johnstein, who defeated Count Lumerier, a coward? And you think he’d care about such rumors? Why do you speak such exasperating words?”

The council room erupted with the voices of various lords. The chaos gave rise to more confusion, and fear began to carve itself into everyone’s minds. The peculiar discomfort they felt from overhearing the conversation with Gerald now became clear.

“General Jean Seigey.”

Kassel interjected amidst the lords’ heated arguments.

“We need a plan.”

The General, sharing the same sentiment, whispered back.

“Have any good ideas?”

“Gather all our forces in a defensive position.”

“You think there’s going to be a battle?”

“No. But I believe it’s essential to show something to our troops.”

Kassel explained briefly given the limited time. With a concerned glance towards King Charles, Kassel simply nodded his head and exited the council room.

Outside, Gerald awaited.

“Where’s Linke?”

As soon as Kassel stepped out, he quickly inquired, while Gerald matched his pace.

“He left in a rush without saying goodbye. Was what I said earlier really that off?”

“No. If anything, I believe I understand the intentions of the Red Rose Count thanks to you.”

Gerald, who had been looking downcast, brightened a little. Kassel spoke as he passed a corridor corner.

“Did you hear the meeting’s content from outside, Gerald?”

“Roughly.”

“Changing the subject a bit, is that Linke’s original personality? Reserved, cool, and composed… Earlier, when the two were talking, it seemed like Linke had changed, didn’t he?”

“He did become a bit more boring than before. Even though he was originally so impulsive, he even once asked to be called the Ice Devil… But why ask?”

As they reached the bustling streets, Linke was already mounting a horse. He took a quick glance at the approaching Kassel and Gerald, but his eyes remained indifferent. Without hurrying, he placed his helmet, which had been hanging on his side, on his head and steered his horse towards Normant City.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? Didn’t you hurry here to tell Linke something?”

“Gerald.”

“Yes?”

“Can you provoke Captain Linke?”

“To anger him?”

“Can you make him so angry that he attacks you first, regardless of the method?”

Kassel asked urgently. Linke had already disappeared from their view, entering between the buildings of Normant City.

“I wonder, I did try to get on his nerves earlier, but as I said, he has changed so much. Think he’ll fall for my pitiful taunts?”

“It’s not about eloquence! If he’s a mercenary, there are dirty ways, right? Whatever method, he must not return to the army intact.”

“Hey, are you suggesting I kill a knight who entered unarmed under the status of an envoy?”

Gerald asked, taken aback.

“Not within Normant. Do it once he leaves Normant. In front of all the armies! In front of the armies of Camort, the armies of the Red Rose, let everyone see you bring down Linke…”

Kassel hesitated gravely as he said that.

“…Defeat him!”

Rubbing his chin, Gerald signaled to a nearby soldier for a horse. As the soldier brought one, Gerald asked,

“I’d do it, but what’s the purpose? Is it in the same vein as ordering Azwin to take down Jarlan?”

“It’s different.”

Kassel quickly explained.

“Think about why Captain Linke came. There’s no need for the captain of a knight order to personally come to deliver such a simple message. I first thought he came to assess Normant’s military strength, but no. He knows our forces, taking the risk to check it doesn’t make sense. He’s here to spread fear among the armies and dignitaries.”

“Many are indeed afraid of him. But would it be right for me to step in? It feels like backstabbing a guest who’s come with respect.”

“He’s targeting the White Wolves.”

Kassel uttered with frustration.

“Intimidating the king is great. Showing formidable forces to the commanders and threatening them is a good strategy. But there’s one thing bothering Count Johnstein. That’s the White Wolves. Us. He’s here to show the armies that ‘even with the White Wolves, you have no hope.’”

“It’s making sense now.”

“Captain Linke’s monstrous strength is already notorious. It’s more convincing than the false songs about the Wolf Knights sung by traveling minstrels. The confidence gained from having the White Wolves on our side would be completely shattered by Captain Linke’s visit. Maybe the armies of the Red Rose will win just by marching. So…”

Kassel struggled to convey his feelings, but Gerald waved him off.

“Okay, okay. I got it.”

Gerald said, as he took the reins handed over by the soldier.

“I also felt a bit uneasy about letting that guy go so easily.”

As he swiftly mounted the horse, Gerald mumbled about where he left his axe, then asked in a somehow gleeful voice,

“Well, what should we do?”

“The White Wolves shouldn’t get involved in this war.”

“Of course, we are outsiders. So, what should we do?”

Gerald shrugged his shoulders.

“Challenge him to a personal duel.”

“I’m worried. What if he doesn’t take my challenge? Feels like he’d just ignore me. Got any tips?”

“Do it your way, not mine. You can do it.”

“How can you be so sure? Do you think that, once he leaves the castle, he’ll let go of his sense of responsibility and accept my challenge?”

Kassel shook his head, “The other way around. The one tied down by responsibility earlier was you, Gerald.”

Gerald raised an eyebrow, and Kassel continued.

“Right? You were the one holding back. Normally, there wouldn’t be a knight who could resist your provocation. Am I wrong?”

Recalling his conversation with Linke, Gerald tilted his head.

“Was it?”

Kassel exclaimed, “Hurry up! We might miss the opportunity.”

Gerald reined in his horse as if in pursuit, already seeing the gates of Normant open.

☆ ☆ ☆

Linke awaited the opening of Normant’s gates, retrieving his weapon. Meanwhile, he glanced coldly at the guards, each retreating a step as their eyes met.

When Linke left through the opened gate, the soldiers hastily shut it, fearing even a single insect might enter. Captain Jarlan sighed deeply.

‘I felt despair fighting with Azwin, but with Linke, it felt like I’d be decapitated in a single strike, even without the injury I got from Azwin.’

He was relieved nothing happened, but the aftermath worried him. The soldiers were petrified by a mere passing knight. As frustrating as it was, he saw no way to restore their spirits with his leadership.

“Captain Jarlan, are all the soldiers gathered?”

Kassel suddenly ran up, panting.

“They have been summoned to the castle on the general’s orders.”

“Tell them to look outside.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask, just do it! And open the gates.”

“For someone to enter?”

“No, for someone to leave.”

As Jarlan ordered, Gerald, atop his horse, exited the opened gate.

“Why is Gerald Wolf going out?”

Jarlan asked.

“I couldn’t just let that guy go, so I ordered an attack.”

“You’re attacking a knight who came under the title of an envoy?”

“Well, actually… they will probably attack first. So, it’s sort of a duel, formally speaking.”

Jarlan eyed Kassel, who seemed to be making excuses.

“You see the skirmishes between armies as a mere duel?”

“Maybe?”

Kassel replied, flustered.

Meanwhile, Gerald quickly caught up to Linke, who neither alerted nor turned back. Gerald didn’t block Linke’s way either.

‘No need to pick a fight outright.’

Though their conversation couldn’t be heard, the atmosphere wasn’t hostile.

Both Normant’s soldiers and the Red Rose army’s soldiers watched the two meet. Some curious soldiers even approached closer. The commanders seemed restless.

“Captain Jarlan.”

Kassel, without taking his eyes off Gerald, said.

“No matter what happens, do nothing.”

“Understood?”

After a moment, Linke and Gerald simultaneously raised their weapons. Linke spurred his horse backward, and Gerald put some distance between them. At the same time, three knights in red armor from the Red Rose army came galloping out. Jarlan, taken by surprise, halted his command to open the city gate.

“Should we do nothing now?”

“Yes. Just stand by.”

Kassel said with visible tension.

“Shouldn’t we help? If your subordinate gets caught in that…”

“I’ve told you repeatedly, the White Wolves don’t have a hierarchical relationship. Don’t call him a subordinate. And Gerald will be fine.”

“You’re confident he can fight 4 to 1?”

“It’ll be 1 against 1. Because it’s a duel.”

“On our terms?”

“They must want it too.”

It was said in a less confident tone, almost a whisper.

“Surely they do.”

A moment later, the three knights who had rushed to Linke’s side returned to their own camp. Both Kassel and Jarlan let out a sigh of relief.

The knights of the rose who had retreated suddenly raised their spears high in front of their battalion. Soldiers of the Red Rose let out a unanimous war cry, banging their weapons and even drums. Seeing this, Jarlan finally understood the situation.

“A duel has been set between two knights. Nothing to do with the war!”

“Yes. Two knights, both eager to show off, didn’t listen to their commanders and chose to duel… That’s how it must appear.”

“Shouldn’t we cheer too? Or should we abstain from that as well?”

“That’s a good idea.”

Jarlan raised his hand high. The soldiers of Normant also recognized that a 1 on 1 duel was about to happen, and they cheered loudly.

The cheers of both armies made the ground tremble.

“Although I can’t judge you all by my standards, Captain Kassel… The Twelve Thorns were the main force behind the victory in the Drupho Plains battle, and Captain Linke’s reputation is soaring. If, by some minute chance, Gerald Wolf loses…”

“Do you recall when Azwin faced you, she said it was not a proper battle but a mere jest?”

“Would I forget such a disgraceful event?”

Kassel said with all the force he could muster in his voice, reminiscent of Sheyden.

“If Azwin had truly fought you with all her might, watch closely what would have happened. Today, the soldiers of Normant will see firsthand who is truly fearsome.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“Hey, Linke.”

Right after exiting the city gate, Gerald called Linke to a halt. Linke just pulled on the reins slightly, slowing his horse, and kept moving forward.

“Still got some business to attend to?”

“Um, yeah, there’s that.”

Gerald said with a grin.

“Just curious.”

Linke didn’t respond. Even after leaving the city gate, he was composed and taciturn.

“Is it true that you killed anyone who ever defeated you, even once? Except for me.”

Linke halted his horse and turned his head.

“You’ve got a much more spirited look now. Much better.”

“You trying to pick a fight?”

“No. I’m giving you an opportunity. I asked, didn’t I? If you’d invade Normant. I heard you would. If you do, we can’t engage. Aranthia getting involved in Camort’s internal affairs doesn’t seem right.”

Gerald continued with a smile.

“In simple terms, if we don’t fight now, you’ll never get a chance to fight me.”

“Not necessary.”

“You don’t have to pretend. You want to, right? I know, that’s why I came out. You should be grateful to me. And since I know your nature, I asked, besides me, have you ever been defeated by anyone? Brutally, horribly, mercilessly.”

Gerald added, as if delivering a finishing blow.

“And even ran away?”

Seeing Linke’s usually stoic face contort, Gerald knew he had hit the mark.

“If you truly sought vengeance against all who defeated you, save for me, you wouldn’t even dare mention it. You would’ve held your head high, laughing at my words right now. And then, one day, you would’ve suddenly killed me, only to quietly say that you’ve killed every last person who bested you.”

Before Linke could muster a word, Gerald spoke with a sardonic smile.

“But you couldn’t. And you won’t be able to in the future either. Fear that’s etched deep within isn’t easily forgotten. In your case, it manifests as bravado. It’s your attempt at seeming fearless, but I can read you. I might be a bit dense, but I’ve had enough experience with the likes of you.”

Gerald tried to sound comforting.

“You shouldn’t feel less of yourself for it. I have a person like that in my past too. Nineteen years old, was I? There was this monstrous fellow I clashed with by the campfire. To this day, there hasn’t been a soul more terrifying, not even among the Wolf Knights. And in my case, I’ve never spoken of him to anyone, believing we’ll meet again. So, it’s alright.”

Gerald whispered, “Just tell me a little. Who’s this monster that turned you into such a coward?”

Linke opened his mouth slowly, his eyes icy and full of intent.

“I thought I had forgotten nothing about you, but it seems I did forget something. You accused me of stealing bread I didn’t even touch.”

“Did I?”

“You said you did it deliberately.”

“Ah, right, that! Yes, I remember now.”

Gerald clapped his hands together in realization.

“I really hated you back then. And thinking about it, I still do. You had those two innocent village girls kneel down and threatened them with a knife, making them lick your toes, you bastard.”

The smile had faded from Gerald’s face.

“True. I knew you didn’t steal that bread. I just thought accusing you of it would be cooler than taking revenge for those girls.”

“Always stepping in with misplaced heroism, damned fool.”

“It was tough keeping a straight face, trying to look cool, you revolting cur.”

The two continued trading insults, creating more distance between them. Gerald readied his axe, and Linke held his spear aloft. Just then, three knights from the Red Rose army charged forth.

“Captain Linke, we came to assist!”

A giant knight with a massive sword in one hand declared. Behind him, another knight with a surprisingly long blade followed, and beside him was a spear-wielding knight.

“It’s alright, Kravzic. Retreat.”

Linke, who moments ago spat harsh words, now commanded with calm authority.

“Inform the Count that we might ‘necessarily’ need a wolf’s head.”

“Yes, sir.”

The three promptly left without a word.

“Wolf’s head? Damn it!”

Gerald said, utterly annoyed.

“That’s such a cool phrase! What should I say? Pluck a rose? Sounds lame! Damn, I don’t even have anyone to pass on my message…”

At Gerald’s words, Linke flashed a chilling smile.

“Your jokes, past or present, aren’t the least bit funny.”

“What do you mean, ‘joke’? I was serious just now!”

A cheer erupted from the side of the Rose army.

Soon after, cheers also resonated from the fortress of Normant.

“It seems many are eager for our duel. Come, Gerald.”

The two charged towards each other.

Linke’s horse moved twice as fast. In an instant, he closed the gap and swung his spear. Gerald barely blocked it, but the tip nicked his neck, drawing a long cut. After striking, Linke circled back, and seeing Gerald struggle to control his horse, charged again, thrusting his spear. Once again, Gerald merely defended, and the spear grazed his side.

Each time Linke attacked, cheers erupted from the Rose army’s side. Linke then calmly controlled his horse, maintaining the initial distance.

“If you’re not warmed up, I can wait,” Linke said.

Gerald extended his hand, speaking out, “Ah, it’s alright. You can attack again.”

“When did the mercenary of injustice, Gerald, ever show mercy, granting an opponent three chances to strike?”

Linke laughed coldly.

“To put it bluntly, perhaps it’s out of courtesy? You might not recall, but the reason I stand here is due to your advice that an axe suits me better than a sword. Regardless of your intent, that helped me greatly. I haven’t thanked you yet, right? That’s my gratitude.”

“What a lengthy excuse for allowing an attack.”

Suddenly, Linke lunged forward with his spear, which Gerald deftly avoided. Compared to the previous two strikes, this one wasn’t as forceful.

“Three times. Satisfied now?”

Hearing Linke’s comment, Gerald expressed his admiration.

“Your way with words, and your ability to respond has certainly improved.”

It wasn’t meant to be a provocation, but Linke’s face twisted in annoyance.

“So, Gerald, why aren’t you showcasing your skills?”

“I was waiting to see your three strikes. That courtesy was just a bluff.”

“You’re the type to spout nonsense even when you’re about to die, aren’t you?”

Linke readied for another attack, pulling on his horse’s reins. Gerald laughed with a hint of weariness.

“I don’t think I needed to see three times. Seems your spear skills haven’t improved at all, have they?”

As Gerald spoke, he scratched his head with the hand holding the axe. Seizing this brief moment, Linke closed the distance, thrusting his spear forward. Gerald stood motionless until the spearhead was nearly upon him, then suddenly, gripping his axe with both hands, he leaned back. In that moment, the force Gerald applied caused his horse to falter. With impeccable balance atop his unsteady mount, Gerald swung his axe down.

Gerald’s axe shattered Linke’s spear, crushed his helmet, and deeply slashed his cheek. Linke’s body was sent flying backward, landing heavily on the ground in his weighty armor. He didn’t get up.

There was a stunned silence, both from the Count’s army and from the walls of Normant.

The first to react were the knights of the Twelve Thorns. Almost five of them, clad in red armor, immediately lunged towards Gerald.

Lowering his axe, Gerald extended an open palm toward them.

“Stand down. This was just a duel.”

The Thorns knights prioritized protecting Linke, and seeing that Gerald wasn’t attacking, they didn’t engage him further.

“Go tend to him.”

Gerald turned away from Linke, who’s face was smeared with blood and consciousness fading. The menacing gazes of three knights bore into his back, but he purposefully did not look back. A triumphant roar echoed late from the fortress of Normant.

As the fortress gates opened and he entered, soldiers clenched their fists, chanting Gerald’s name.

“Gerald!”

“Gerald!”

“Gerongd!”

“Who’s mispronouncing my name?!”

As Gerald walked, he exchanged handshakes and fist bumps with soldiers or smacked the back of the head of the one who mispronounced his name, making his way up to where Kassel awaited.

“You did well. Are you okay? That wound…”

Kassel motioned to his neck, but Gerald simply brushed it with the back of his hand. The wound wasn’t deep.

“It was a close call during that last strike. My horse didn’t have the strength to withstand it.”

Gerald noticed Jarlan staring intently at him.

“What is it?”

Unlike the rejoicing soldiers, Jarlan wasn’t wearing a pleased expression.

“I can’t just cheer for the outcome like the soldiers. I’ve realized how complacent I’ve been.”

Gerald grinned, extending his palm. Jarlan hesitated for a moment but then slapped it in response.

“Congratulate me.”

Only then did Jarlan smile.

“Congratulations, Gerald Wolf.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“Would you like a drink?”

Count Johnstein calmly sipped his tea. He wasn’t angry or interrogative, merely seeming eager to conclude the conversation and enjoy his leisurely tea time.

“I must decline. As you can see, given my current state…”

Pressing a blood-soaked cloth to his cheek, which slightly muffled his words, Linke responded calmly. Drops of dark red blood dripped onto the floor. Despite his injury, he showed no signs of pain or distress.

“I regret missing the match. Seems you lost.”

Count Linke looked at his wound without much concern and took a sip of his tea.

“Yes.”

“Were you caught off guard?”

“I did my best.”

“Any excuses?”

“None.”

“It’s unlike you to be provoked so easily. I told you to capture them if a fight broke out, not to fight and lose.”

“I apologize.”

“The morale of our troops must have dropped with the captain of the Twelve Thorns being defeated. Think you can boost it by winning the next battle?”

The Count asked with an offhand tone.

Linke replied candidly.

“I cannot win even if we fight again.”

“For you to say that about the level of the White Wolves… understood. Get your wounds treated and rest for a bit.”

Linke stood up from his seat.

“I apologize, Count.”

“Don’t apologize twice for such an incident. Knights lose battles occasionally. It doesn’t change our plans, so forget about it.”

Linke nodded silently. As he left the tent, the Count, setting down his teacup, called out to him.

“Don’t even think about taking revenge recklessly.”

Linke didn’t respond and just walked away.

Count Johnstein toyed with a silver necklace for a moment, murmuring to himself. A delighted smile crept onto his face.

“The White Wolves, huh.”

–TL Notes–
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