A caravan of horses raced toward the castle, kicking up clouds of yellow dust like locusts sweeping through an autumn field. The soldiers atop the castle had heightened their vigilance. Although the group of knights was not large, the current regional situations were unstable, and no one desired chaos at such a time.
The middle-aged man grimaced as he reigned in his horse and shook the yellow dust from his cloak. He looked up at the castle, which was now drawing near. It seemed that the soldiers of the Mechelen Fortress had not received any notice. Nissa had been quite cautious in this aspect, but it now seemed unnecessary to continue with the subterfuge. Facing pressures from the beastmen in the west and north, and now with that usurper in the south sharpening his blades, it was unclear what that man was scheming. If the Ferdinand and Heine families united, the only outcome would be to vanish from the history of the kingdom's noble lords like Philip did.
