In a state of exhaustion, Damian managed to guide the crown prince to the safe zone that Iris had established. As they arrived, a scene of organized chaos met his eyes. Injured knights were scattered about, their forms battered and worn from the intense battle.
Anna, who had honed her healing magic skills under Seraphine's guidance, was diligently attending to the wounded. Her efforts were a lifeline amid the turmoil, her magic working to mend injuries and ease pain.
Spotting Damian's worn figure, Anna's concern immediately took over, propelling her to rush to his side.
"Young master, are you alright?" she inquired anxiously, her eyes filled with genuine worry.
Damian managed a faint smile despite his obvious fatigue. "I'm just a bit tired. You should attend to the others first. I can manage with a little rest."
Anna nodded, her attention swiftly returning to the task at hand. Her healing abilities were indeed invaluable in this dire moment.
Just then, Iris materialized from her dimensional gap with her characteristic flair. Her presence was a blend of practicality and whimsy, as she handed Damian a glass bottle containing a restorative potion.
"At least you should drink some potion to restore yourself, strong man," Iris quipped, her words laced with a hint of teasing. While the potion's effects might not rival the direct touch of a skilled healer, it was enough to alleviate his fatigue.
Taking the potion with gratitude, Damian wasted no time in downing its contents. The elixir worked swiftly, revitalizing his weary body and returning color to his pallid face.
"Thank you, Miss Iris," Damian expressed his appreciation, feeling the revitalizing effects taking hold.
"I will provide a situation report for now," Iris announced, her tone shifting to one of seriousness.
She conveyed the current state of affairs, explaining that the blue team, led by Seraphine, had successfully aided the wounded nobles from the hunting expedition. Her report included the reassurance that there were no fatalities, only a few injuries.
Concern for Seraphine still lingered in Damian's mind, and he voiced it. "Is Seraphine alright?"
Iris's response carried a hint of sarcasm as she delivered her observation. "She's more than alright. It seems the drug I gave her was quite effective this time."
The mental image of Seraphine, expressionless and unleashing devastating force upon their enemies, tugged at Iris's emotions. She couldn't help but be impressed by her ability, even if the method of using a firearm was unconventional in this world.
"I also have the most important information to report to you all. You know the reason why we had to prepare all of this in secret," Iris turned her attention to Damian and the others.
"Wasn't it to uncover the main culprit? Your suspicion was that one of the nobles might be associated with the Chaos Order," Damian responded, his brow furrowing in concentration.
"Yes, and I believe I've identified the mastermind behind this attack now. It's Count Gabel Hassen. He's the one orchestrating this," Iris revealed, her voice carrying a mix of gravity and urgency.
"What? That can't be true!" The crown prince's disbelief was evident in his voice. Count Gabel was a prominent and trusted noble, known for his unwavering financial support to the royal family.
The idea that such a loyal figure could be plotting against him was unfathomable.
"I share your disbelief. Why Count Gabel?" Damian echoed the sentiment, his shock mirroring that of the crown prince.
Judging from the provided information, Count Gabel seems to have been keeping an eye on both Damien and Seraphine for some time now. He has been known to send spies to their estate to observe their activities.
However, he may not be the sole leader or highest authority figure within the Chaos Order. Rather, he appears to be one of the organization's elder members who is charged with a significant level of control and oversight.
Nonetheless, this is merely the beginning, and much more will undoubtedly be revealed.
"Furthermore, he appears to be remarkably powerful. We must act—" Iris's words were cut short as an urgent signal resonated through their earbuds.
"Iris, Damian, are you there!" Adrian's voice crackled with urgency and fatigue, carrying a sense of impending danger.
"What's happening, Father?" Damian's concern was evident as he desperately sought information.
"We need immediate reinforcement. Send only the strongest. The enemy leader is here!" Adrian's voice carried a sense of urgency, punctuated by the sounds of clashing swords in the background.
"I haven't even finished explaining, and he's already here. Let's move!" Iris exclaimed. The gravity of the situation demanded swift action, leaving no time for further deliberation.
However, a new voice pierced the tension. "Wait! I want to go as well!" The crown prince, Cedric, stepped forward with a fiery determination in his eyes. He was fueled by a desire for revenge against those who had attacked and killed his loyal knights.
Iris turned a cold gaze toward Cedric, her words as sharp as ice. "You're too weak, Cedric. You would only burden us." Her response was blunt and unapologetic, reflecting the harsh reality of the situation.
Cedric's frustration was evident, his fists clenching at his sides. He knew Iris was right; he lacked the strength to face the formidable enemy.
"No time to waste. Let's go!" Iris's voice held a sense of urgency as she opened a dimensional portal beneath herself and Damian. Without hesitation, they stepped through, disappearing from the safe zone in pursuit of the enemy leader.
Shifting to Adrain's perspective, the battlefield had descended into chaos, a gruesome tableau of fallen knights and Chaos Order members. Crimson pools of blood mingled with the earth, marking the toll of the brutal conflict.
Despite the carnage, there was a sense of balance, a tense equilibrium between the two sides. However, that equilibrium was shattered with the sudden appearance of their elder, a figure whose presence shifted the tide of battle dramatically.
The momentum swayed, and Adrain found himself and his fellow knights at a distinct disadvantage. Their enemy's strength was beyond anything they had encountered before.
The elder's appearance changed everything, introducing a level of power that was foreign to this realm.
His combat style was unlike anything Adrain had seen in this world—a vicious combination of agility, technique, and a brutal efficiency that sent unknown energy through the battlefield.
Adrain, who had always been known as a formidable knight, now found himself struggling against the elder's onslaught. Each strike felt like a crushing weight, threatening to break his defenses.
As he parried blow after blow, he couldn't help but wonder about the true identity and origins of this enigmatic opponent.
"Marquis Adrain, the protector of the empire," the elder taunted, his voice laced with disdain. "Is it not a grandiose title for someone who is struggling to even hold his ground?"
The elder was wearing a mask that concealed most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible, and was not recognizable to Adrian. He is Count Gabel, the person who had acted as the Empire's treasurer and was perceived as weak in fighting on the outside.
Adrain's labored breaths filled the air as he clutched his side, a testament to the internal injuries he had sustained. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, a grim reminder of the punishment he had endured. His gaze narrowed, a mix of fury and disbelief evident in his eyes.
"Who the hell.... are you...." Adrain's voice carried a blend of anger and incredulity. He couldn't fathom how this mysterious adversary had emerged seemingly out of nowhere, wielding an otherworldly fighting style with such finesse.