While the vassals busied themselves with preparations for war, Randolph was deep in thought, trying to devise a strategy.
"The answer is a full frontal assault. We'll push forward with everything we have, drive straight into their central formation, and create chaos to break their ranks."
Perdium's forces had actually gained quite an advantage in the North through these aggressive charges.
"What's there to worry about? Big brother and I will just kill everyone ourselves! Yes, that'll work."
Such bold words were possible only because both Zwalter and Randolph were highly skilled knights, regarded as upper-tier fighters.
There were undoubtedly strong knights on the other side as well, but Randolph pushed this thought out of his mind.
Given Perdium's disadvantage in numbers, their only viable tactic was an all-out charge. Charge and crush—it was the simple truth.
Zwalter usually took command on the battlefield, but Randolph was convinced his plan would be chosen this time.
"Now, where would be the best place for the battle? I should discuss this with my big brother… And the formation…"
As he pondered formations and force allocations, Randolph suddenly thought about the mercenaries under Ghislain's command.
"Good thing the Young Lord has those mercenaries with him."
Every soldier counted, and the mercenaries Ghislain led were a substantial force.
Even after conscripting every able-bodied man, their numbers were low and their combat effectiveness limited.
So having a few hundred experienced and skilled mercenaries was like rain in a drought.
"No, it'd be a waste to let such a valuable force operate separately. I'll have to take command and integrate them into the assault team."
He couldn't allow the young and inexperienced Young Lord to lead such elite forces.
The Young Lord could fight as a knight, but the mercenaries needed to be under the commander-in-chief's command.
"That brat better follow orders this time. If not, we'll charge him with insubordination."
Randolph hastily went to find Ghislain, determined to take control of the mercenaries.
Surely, the reckless scoundrel wouldn't be stubborn when the estate was on the verge of destruction.
However, despite searching everywhere, Ghislain was nowhere to be found.
"Huh? Where could he be? Maybe he's at the encampment?"
Randolph mounted his horse and rode out through the north gate.
Arriving at the mercenaries' encampment, he looked around and felt a sudden unease.
Only laborers moved about occasionally, with no sign of the mercenaries.
The only ones remaining in the camp were the guard captain, Skovan, his deputy Ricardo, and a few soldiers.
"Where are the mercenaries? Where's the Young Lord?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"He… He came suddenly and took them all away."
The Forest of Demonic Beasts's guard captain, Skovan, responded with an uneasy expression.
He himself didn't know where the Young Lord had gone with the mercenaries.
"Damn it, that idiot—don't tell me…"
Randolph urgently returned to the castle and looked for Belinda.
"Belinda! Where's Belinda?"
Belinda was always by Ghislain's side. If anyone knew his whereabouts, it would be her.
But the castle was empty. Belinda was gone, as was the large man who was always with Ghislain, and the other one who usually loafed around.
Finally, Randolph realized what had happened and collapsed in disbelief.
"That bastard… He ran off to save his own skin! Ghislain! You cowardly bastard!"
He had felt uneasy the moment Ghislain had uncharacteristically suggested holding the castle defensively.
But to think that a lord's heir would sneak away like this!
While his father and the vassals were preparing to risk their lives, this was an absolute disgrace.
"You… I'll find you and throw you in the dungeon!"
Fuming, Randolph ordered the soldiers to search for any others who might have stayed behind and went to see Zwalter.
The moment the vassals gathered, Randolph furiously announced that the Young Lord had fled.
Already somber, the mood grew even darker.
"Ghislain… fled?"
Zwalter asked in disbelief.
"Yes! He took all his followers and escaped!"
Randolph, his anger reaching its peak, stomped and shouted.
Homerne tried to calm him, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Perhaps he just went out scouting?"
"Who takes all their forces on a scout mission and vanishes?"
Then, as if remembering something, Albert shouted urgently.
"The Rune Stones! Didn't he recently bring back another load? Let's check if they're still there. If they are, he might not have fled."
Homerne nodded in agreement.
"Yes, yes. He wouldn't leave without taking his wealth. Go check immediately!"
After a while, soldiers returned from inspecting Ghislain's personal storage.
"The storage… It's empty."
Everyone's faces turned grim.
As hard as it was to believe, given everything they knew about Ghislain, it was entirely plausible.
One vassal spoke hesitantly.
"Come to think of it, the mercenaries have been going in and out of the Young Lord's storage recently. There's no way they moved all those Rune Stones so suddenly. They must have been sneaking them out little by little."
More testimonies came to light.
"The mercenaries once forced our soldiers away, insisting on guarding the castle gate overnight. It seems they did this to cover up the Rune Stones' removal."
"I never thought the Young Lord would do such a thing, though it suits his character…"
As the vassals continued sharing their observations, Zwalter pressed his fingers to his temples and closed his eyes.
'So in the end, you were nothing more than that. Foolish wretch, a life without honor isn't worth living… You had no pride at all?'
Why were nobles noble?
Having claimed honor and privileges, they bore equally heavy responsibilities.
A noble who shirked those responsibilities was no better than a slave.
'So it all ends before we've even begun to fight.'
If it became known that the Young Lord had fled on the eve of war, the soldiers' morale would plummet.
It was essentially a declaration that they had no chance of winning.
Already at a disadvantage, how could they win a war with demoralized troops? No one would risk their life to fight.
'He'll continue the family line in disgrace. He should have at least taken his sister with him.'
If he was going to live in shame, he might as well have taken his sister.
He was an utterly selfish person, thinking only of himself to the bitter end.
As Zwalter gritted his teeth, a commotion broke out at the entrance to the hall, and someone was brought in.
"Let go! Do you even know who I am?"
The ones brought in were Alpoi, some mages, and Vanessa.
Seeing them, Randolph approached, grinding his teeth.
"Ah, these must be the stragglers they left behind in their haste."
"Wait, wait a moment."
Homerne quickly stopped Randolph.
If he started swinging, there would be no chance for a proper conversation.
Homerne approached Alpoi and asked.
"You! Do you know where the Young Lord went?"
Caught off guard, Alpoi snapped back in irritation.
"Damn it, why is everyone in this estate so rude? Do you even know who I am to treat me like this?"
"And who might you be? Just a mere mercenary, aren't you?"
Glaring at Homerne, Alpoi shouted.
"I am none other than the North's finest…"
Realizing he had spoken too much, Alpoi clamped his mouth shut.
"I am… I am…"
Needing to keep his identity a secret was exasperating.
After stammering a few times, he shouted in frustration.
"There's no need for you to know who I am!"
Zwalter and the other vassals gave him looks of disdain.
"Pathetic. The Young Lord doesn't seem to have a single reliable companion."
Homerne, shaking his head, asked Alpoi again.
"We don't care who you are. Do you know where the Young Lord fled?"
"W-what? He fled?"
"Yes, war broke out, and he got scared and ran away. Did he give you any hint of where he was going?"
Homerne asked without much expectation.
If he were a friend significant enough to be informed, Ghislain would have taken him along.
Alpoi looked around in disbelief.
Judging by the faces of the lord and vassals, Ghislain really had vanished.
'He ran away? After all the trouble he caused at the Magic Tower and bringing us here, he just ran?'
Grinding his teeth in anger, Alpoi tilted his head.
'Did he really run?'
Alpoi might not have known much about the world, but he wasn't a fool.
From what he had seen, Ghislain wasn't the type to run from war.
If anything, he was reckless, unconcerned with his own life.
"Hah! Are you all really from the same estate and still don't know that guy? He's not one to run away. He's crazy and lives for the day!"
The vassals scowled as Alpoi laughed.
Having long watched Ghislain's disgraceful behavior, they couldn't help but view him with preconceived notions.
Homerne, thinking it useless to ask this madman any further, turned to Vanessa.
"Are you a mercenary too? I heard the Young Lord often took you to the training grounds. He seems quite fond of you."
Vanessa, feeling nervous, swallowed and bowed deeply.
"I greet the lord and the head butler."
Homerne was slightly surprised by her polite demeanor.
Among all the people around the Young Lord, this was the first time Homerne had seen someone seemingly "normal."
"Ahem, at least you seem somewhat decent. So, what exactly do you do for Ghislain?"
"I… I am the Young Lord's… maid."
Vanessa couldn't bring herself to admit she was his personal mage. She could barely cast even a 1st-circle spell—how could she explain that she was his mage?
Homerne clicked his tongue, unimpressed by her modest response.
"There are plenty of maids in the castle already… Though, it's true, few wish to serve the Young Lord."
"…"
When Vanessa said nothing more, Homerne pressed her impatiently.
"So, did the Young Lord give you any private instructions? If you know something, speak up."
"I… well…"
There were things Ghislain often told her.
—You're the key to victory. With you, I'm certain I'll win this war.
"I… I am the promised victory…"
"What?"
Vanessa couldn't bring herself to repeat such an embarrassing line aloud. Instead, she cut down the phrase to something simpler.
"The Young Lord said he would certainly win this war."
"Victory, my foot… And he just got up and ran? Taking all the Rune Stones with him?"
"The Young Lord isn't that kind of person!"
"Oh! How dare you raise your voice in front of the Lord! Hmph, all his people are the same."
Homerne turned away with a sneer, as if to say "I should've known better." It was pointless to interrogate Ghislain's leftover followers any further.
At that moment, a thought flashed across Alpoi's mind. He raised his hand and spoke.
"Maybe he…"
But Zwalter interrupted him.
"That's enough. They clearly don't know anything, so let them go."
Alpoi clicked his tongue and withdrew with the other mages. There was no need to share information with people who didn't want to listen.
Vanessa, feeling unsure, bowed repeatedly as she turned to leave.
Watching them go, Zwalter let out a long sigh.
'Ghislain, since you've run away, survive somehow.'
***
On a low hill, hidden among dense trees, Ghislain and his mercenaries were lined up, ready to ride out at any moment.
Unlike the tense mercenaries, Ghislain wore a calm, almost leisurely expression.
Belinda, anxious for him, whispered.
"Young Lord, wouldn't it be safer to stay and fight with everyone at the castle? Isn't this too dangerous?"
"Don't worry. It's only the supply unit. We need to cut them off first if we want to hold the castle."
"But their numbers are double ours… If they're prepared, it could go badly."
"That's true. But with the strength they have, they won't expect us to strike first."
The most crucial element of an ambush was that the enemy must recognize the possibility of being ambushed.
But Ghislain was confident they wouldn't.
"They probably assume we're hiding in the castle, cowering in fear."
"Well, yes, but still…"
"They're sure we'd never risk a direct attack with our small numbers."
"But what if it fails? That could cost us what few troops we have."
"It won't fail. An ambush works best when they underestimate us."
Belinda didn't mind if the ambush failed; she was only concerned about Ghislain's safety, worried he might get hurt in his first experience of war.
Ghislain smiled coldly and continued.
"Besides, the main force isn't even paying attention to the supply unit. Whether it survives or not doesn't concern them."
"What? Why not?"
"All they care about is eliminating us. They even brought siege weapons. The supply unit is probably filled with Digald's ragtag soldiers, barely put together. They won't be ready for an ambush."
The six thousand troops weren't something Digald could have gathered on their own.
They must have received reinforcements, likely all concentrated with the main force.
Thus, the supply unit would be made up of Digald's men alone.
"Well, we arrived just in time."
In the distance, the supply unit was setting up camp.
Ghislain had led his mercenaries around Perdium's outskirts, riding hard for a full day without rest.
After spotting the supply unit, they slowed to close the distance, holding their position at a strategic vantage point.
With the enemy making camp, Ghislain was confident the time was right.
He looked up at the sky. The moon was obscured by clouds, leaving the night pitch-black.
"Perfect weather for killing."
Ghislain's words made the mercenaries chuckle quietly.
Sometimes, he showed this odd mix of calm and confidence, which eased the mercenaries' tension.
"Let's get started."
Belinda wrapped bandages tightly around Ghislain's hands and warned him.
"Please, be careful. Pull back if things get too risky."
"Don't worry."
Testing his bandaged hands, Ghislain extended his right hand.
Gillian handed him a large, double-bladed battle axe.
"Nice and hefty."
With the axe in one hand, Ghislain raised his other.
"Prepare yourselves."
At his command, the heavily armored mercenaries mounted their horses and lifted their spears.
The horses, sensing the impending battle, snorted and stamped the ground in anticipation.
Ghislain spoke one last time.
"We don't need any prisoners."
With a cruel smile on his handsome face, he slowly extended his hand forward.
"Kill them all."
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]