Chapter 237 - Trojan Horse

Chapter 236 – Trojan Horse

Nikolaus Wolves:

For days, I'd been more on edge than ever before. I paced back and forth incessantly. Whenever I entered my office, I could barely glance at the papers. Sometimes, I'd pick up a document to sign without even bothering to read it. The tension seemed to consume everyone, though most didn't truly understand the gravity of the situation. Only the most trusted men—those involved in our illicit activities—knew the full truth. They were the ones working behind the scenes, our "criminals."

I knew that if an army invaded, no one would stop to ask questions. They'd simply follow orders. These men understood the weight of the crimes we'd committed, and they were well aware that if we fell, they would fall with us. But if we could defend our lands successfully… there was a chance.

I had made a public announcement that the Wolves Fortress was conducting its annual military exercises. I ensured that the allied nobles' soldiers traveled on public roads, escorted by patrols, to make the movement noticeable. The goal was clear: provoke them. The Evenhart family wouldn't let what happened slide. I needed them to react quickly. The sooner this confrontation started, the better.

The truth was, my position was fragile. If the kingdom lost its patience, it would take only a single troop of winged cavalry to storm my fortress. As strong as it was, against flying enemies and inquisitor mages, it would be useless. Just the thought of facing an inquisitor mage made my skin crawl. Nothing would remain of me.

A thousand possibilities ran through my mind, tormenting me. Perhaps the kingdom was deliberately taking its time, waiting for us to kill each other so they could negotiate with the survivor. Or worse, maybe the Evenharts had already received the kingdom's approval to act. Despite being a vassal of the kingdom, I knew my true place: just a marquess.

The kingdom would never choose to protect a marquess if it risked their alliance with a duke. No matter how much they downplayed the influence of the dukedoms, they knew those territories were the pillars of their strength. If even one of the eight dukedoms demanded independence, it would create a devastating domino effect. That was why they began working in the shadows, weakening the dukedoms and making them dependent.

That was the reason for the damn agreement I made years ago! If I had managed to join the Evenhart family, marrying the duchess and becoming a duke… I would have won. With an entire dukedom under my control and the kingdom's backing, I could have had everything in my grasp.

The anguish in my chest grew like poison, and without thinking, I downed my entire glass of wine, trying in vain to drown out the bitter taste of failure.

"Shall I pour you another glass, my lord?" the servant asked.

"No! Leave!" I snapped.

Left alone, I returned to my thoughts.

"If the Evenharts come," I muttered, "we need to crush their main forces. Once we defeat or capture their most important members, we can take their castle for ourselves."

Even as I thought through our plan, anxiety gnawed at me. Nothing felt certain.

"Bandits, mercenaries, soldiers… we've summoned everyone," I continued, speaking to myself, as if to reassure myself that we were prepared.

But deep down, I knew. I knew the Evenharts were out there, waiting for the right moment.

We have to defeat the Evenharts before the kingdom intervenes.

"Maybe," I murmured again, "the kingdom truly wants us to destroy each other, to make the mistake of starting this war. If I die, I'll take with me all the secrets of what's been planned. And the kingdom could use that to subjugate the Evenharts, claiming they broke diplomatic laws. I might already be dancing in the palm of their hand with this mistake of mine…"

"Fuck it!" I shouted, kicking the chair and sending the documents scattering across the desk. "I just need to survive... survive, win this war, and then I'll take Chloe Evenhart as mine! An heir will ensure my ultimate victory."

I grabbed my head in frustration.

"Once I win, I'll fuck Chloe Evenhart until that girl gives me a goddamned heir!"

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the black stone, hoping for some kind of response, some guidance... but there was only silence. The Illuminated didn't speak.

"Damn rain!" I shouted, glaring out the window. For two days, my fortress had been surrounded by dark clouds, with constant rain pouring down. It seemed as though a violent storm was brewing.

Taking a deep breath, I resumed pacing back and forth, mentally reviewing our options.

"We've surrounded the fortress with our armies. Strengthened our defenses with the internal forces. We have mages and the 'Ten Fingers' to protect us."

The Ten Fingers... the most powerful mages at our disposal. They were my personal guard and that of the other nobles—a handpicked elite force armed with a vast array of spells, prepared for any battle. They could decimate our enemies if the tide turned against us.

"If the situation outside becomes critical, I'll send in the Ten Fingers to secure our victory."

Leaving the office, I marched quickly toward the war room. The fortress was alive with activity. Servants scurried about, carrying out the orders of the nobles who now crowded every corner. Guards were stationed in every corridor, entire garrisons seated and waiting for orders.

The plan was clear in my mind. The external army would surround the fortress, forming our front line. Mages within their ranks would support the soldiers, while the archers and Shooter Mages atop the walls served as our trump card. If the Evenharts approached, arrows and fireballs would rain down upon them. We had even prepared a strategy to flood the area in front of the gates with waves of water, complicating any attempt to advance. Earth mages stood ready on the walls to launch spikes like arrows if necessary.

My fortress was a marvel of magical engineering, designed centuries ago by earth mages who specialized in military defenses. The walls themselves were a spectacle: they featured strategically placed openings, resembling cannon ports, allowing mages to cast spells from within while remaining protected. This was a fortress built not just to withstand attacks but to strike back—a bastion of resistance against any invader.

The underground system was another crucial advantage. Tunnels and passageways connected various parts of the fortress, ensuring a steady supply of weapons and resources even during a siege. Additionally, the surrounding garrisons and houses served as strategic outposts, creating an extra layer of security.

Inside the walls, earth mages stayed on high alert, ready to rapidly repair any damage caused by enemy spells. Wind mages specialized in erecting defensive barriers. While they couldn't cover the entire span of the walls, they could react to targeted enemy spells, raising wind shields as an additional layer of protection.

Another of the fortress's major trump cards was its water-based defense system, an emergency measure designed to devastate any army foolish enough to approach. Controlled by water mages stationed at key points, this system could unleash a massive torrent. When activated, a colossal wave of water would surge from the walls like a tsunami, crashing down with overwhelming force and sweeping away everything in its path.

This attack would not only shatter enemy formations but also throw them into complete disarray, creating chaos on the battlefield. Meanwhile, archers and mages, safely protected behind fortifications, would capitalize on the confusion to deliver precise strikes, eliminating survivors and any threat attempting to regroup.

When it came to defense, my fortress was unmatched. There was no other stronghold in the entire duchy that came close to its level of preparation, strategy, and applied magic. It wasn't just a fortress; it was a statement of power.

We were ready to deliver an unrelenting defense.

"Damn rain!" I growled, glancing out the windows at the black clouds swirling in the sky and the flashes of lightning splitting the horizon.

It was the dead of night; we should have been sleeping, but the tension in the air was suffocating. No one could relax. As I opened the door to the war room, I was met with a cacophony of shouting and heated arguments.

"We need to do this now!" one of them yelled, his face red with anger.

"No! Are you insane? You want to deploy a mage from the Ten Fingers outside already? They're our trump card! We can't waste them at the start!" retorted Count Laurence.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling the weight of this endless debate. We had revisited this same argument countless times, but it seemed no one could grasp the logic.

"The Ten Fingers will remain inside!" I declared, my voice echoing through the room. "We'll deploy them when the time is right—and not before."

I strode to the board where the massive map of the fortress and its attack and defense routes was pinned. All eyes turned toward me.

"Listen carefully, you idiots!" I said, my patience stretched to its limit. "A war isn't won through recklessness. A war is won with patience and strategy. The symbol of my family is the Wolf. The Wolves family embodies this philosophy. A wolf doesn't attack without thought—it hunts with caution. When the enemy is tired, believing they have the upper hand, that's the moment we unleash our secret weapons. That's the moment a wolf goes straight for the throat."

My voice was cold and calculated as I explained, "The Ten Fingers and my pack of Great Wolves will only be released when the time is right. When that moment comes, we'll still have a second internal army ready for battle. It will be like a tsunami. We'll unleash everything at once. But for that to happen, the soldiers outside need to give their lives holding back the Evenhart forces. We need to draw them close to the walls, within range of our Shooter Mages. The Evenhart soldiers must be tired, their numbers severely diminished, their mages drained of mana. Only then will we act."

A heavy silence settled over the room. Finally, the weight of the situation seemed to dawn on them, and the importance of the strategy sank in.

"My lord!" The door flew open, and a maid burst in, gasping for breath. I was ready to lash out for the interruption, but something in her face stopped me. It was serious.

"A boy has appeared in front of the army," she said, gasping for air.

"What do you mean a boy appeared?" I demanded. "The order was to kill anyone who approached the army outside! No one should be near the fortress!"

"He said his name is Nathan Evenhart," she replied.

The moment that name left her lips, a suffocating silence enveloped the room. Those around me exchanged nervous glances, panic and uncertainty spreading like wildfire.

"He's here! The damned army has arrived…" a noble muttered, his voice trembling with despair.

"No, my lord. He's alone. The boy is sitting outside, right in front of our army," the maid clarified.

"What!? You've got to be joking!" I shouted, storming across the room toward her.

The heir I'd spent years trying to eliminate... sitting alone in front of my army?

"That's impossible. Are you sure he's alone?" Disbelief laced my voice as I gripped the maid's shoulder, my fingers digging in with all the urgency of the moment.

"I am sure, my lord… and he's asking for a duel," she replied, visibly shaken by the intensity of the situation.

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