"May I accompany you?" John asked eagerly as he approached the grand duke, who had just concluded his speech to the troops.
The grand duke raised his eyebrows. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he replied skeptically.
Nicholas crouched down to John's eye level. "Are you confident you can take care of yourself, kid?" he asked, his tone serious.
John nodded lightly. "Yes, I'm sure I can keep myself safe."
Dante, however, was not convinced. "I'm not sure this is wise," he interjected, addressing Nicholas. "Given the scale of this conflict, I don't think John is ready to handle himself in the field."
But John was determined to prove them wrong. "Please, let me come with you," he pleaded. "I swear I'll be fine."
Nicholas weighed his options before turning to the grand duke. "Dante, let the kid come with us," he said, his voice firm. "If he can't handle himself, then he'll learn from his mistakes."
With a heavy sigh, the grand duke reluctantly agreed. "Fine, the kid is coming with us."
Overjoyed, John cheered and ran back to the castle to pack his belongings. Dante, however, was less than thrilled. "Go get your things quickly," he ordered John with a scowl. "We'll be leaving soon."
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.
"Why are you so eager to run to war?" Kostas asked with a concerned expression.
"First of all, I want to gauge the degree of change that has occurred in the invasion. While both a beast wave and barbarian war did happen, unlike now, they occurred at different times. I suspect it has something to do with the existence of the grand duke," John explained as he hurried into his room.
"Remember the story the grand duke told you?" Kostas asked.
"Yeah, what about it?" John said, his eyebrows raised.
"I have a strong suspicion that Dante did, in fact, exist in our timeline too, and so did his rebellion. But unlike in this life, he probably got killed in his last fight, which is likely why all the information regarding his little coup and his entire existence was erased from all records," Kostas said.
"You know, what you say to a certain degree makes sense. I mean, it doesn't make sense for so many things to be completely different. And if such a thing did happen in my last life, it's the imperial family we are talking about. It is not beyond their abilities to completely wipe something out from history," John thought as he pulled out a small bag and started packing his clothes.
"Who knows? This is still nothing but a theory. We can't say anything for sure," Kostas replied.
"Right. Anyway, the second reason I want to go with the grand duke is to test my limits. I know I am in no condition to be fighting right now. With how weak I am and with the chaotic state my insides are in, I should be nowhere near a battlefield. But my instincts are telling me otherwise," John continued.
"I am still not quite convinced that this is a good idea," Kostas said.
"Oh, it is most certainly not a good idea. I'm putting my life at way more risk than it is worth. But it is life-threatening incidents like these that can cause exponential growth," John replied.
"Do as you wish. I see that you have already made up your mind. Just be warned that the choice you are making is a risky one. One you are not ready to see the consequences of," Kostas said with a sigh.
"Shut it, will you? It's not like the kid will be actively fighting. He will likely just have to sit on the sidelines and watch. You don't really expect all of those experienced soldiers to let a greenhorn kid like him fight, do you?" Pallas said, trying not to demotivate the young prince.
"Anyway, kid, don't mind his words all too much. You do you. We will be here and tell you if we notice something messed up, alright? Now you better rush. I doubt that crazy bastard will wait too long for you," he continued, seeing that Kostas had nothing to say in response.
"Right. Thanks for the moral support, Pallas," John said as he hurriedly left the room.
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Back in the room where Oberon was teaching his young grandson, the old man could be seen looking out the window, at the sight of john rushing towards the grand duke with a small bag, and a short sword."He's leaving, huh? Well I guess it can't be helped he is young after all" Oberon said to himself as he slowly disappeared into the wind.
"Sir your tea is here…huh? Where did he go?" said a maid as he entered the room, along with a tray that carried a cup of tea.
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As the grand duke prepared for a full-scale conflict, his soldiers began to carry out his plan with small-scale skirmishes erupting across the north. The most brutal of these clashes occurred at Crystal Brook. A once tranquil, frozen stream, was now a river of blood and flesh. The aftermath was horrific, and it had occurred just a few hours after the declaration of war.
Three hours earlier, deep within the lush tundra forests, near the frozen stream, a horde of barbarians marched alongside a large group of ferocious beasts. One of the barbarians let out a laugh, "Ahahaha, these fools won't know what hit them!" Another replied, "If only they knew the strength of our chief, they'd surrender without a fight." A third barbarian interrupted, "Who cares? As long as we fight, we'll be victorious."
The first barbarian erupted into laughter, "Ahahahahaha, he's right!" The others in the group joined in, and their laughter echoed through the forest. (the horde is divided into groups for faster maneuverability)
Amidst the rustling bushes near the creek, a black-haired man spoke into a communication crystal, "Captain, this is Private Ron. I see a group of barbarians and beasts near Crystal Brook."
A gruff voice responded from the crystal, "Can you tell us how many of them are there and what they are doing?"
"I can estimate roughly. There are about 300 barbarians and half that number of beasts. They seem to be carrying rations for their army," Ron replied, observing the movements of the enemy from his hidden position.
"Such a small number of people for such an important task?" the captain pondered.
"What do I do, sir?" Ron asked.
"Retreat. I'm sure this is a trap. There is no way they would only have this many people escort their convoy," the captain ordered.
"Understood, sir," Ron acknowledged. But before he could cut the call, he noticed something strange. "Wait, sir. I think they're setting up camp right here," he said, watching the barbarians pitch their tents.
"That confirms it. It's a trap. Return here as soon as possible," the captain said urgently.
"I will re-" Ron began to reply, but before he could finish his sentence, *spurtttt* an axe flew in from behind him, separating his head from his body in a spray of blood.
The barbarian who threw the axe sneered, "Fucking bastards fell for it," then commanded, "All of you, get into positions. The enemy knows our location and will be arriving soon."
Excitement rose among the barbarians, but their leader barked, "Calm down and prepare for battle," as he retrieved his axe from Ron's lifeless corpse.