"We… lost?"
Upon hearing the report, Harold's face turned bright red, his mouth twitching in anger.
Rage surged within him to the point of dizziness, and he could barely form words, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.
"Hooo…."
Harold exhaled deeply, trying to steady his breath.
In front of him were the knights and soldiers.
They looked as if they might collapse any moment, their bodies marred with burns.
He had received a written report from his strategists as soon as the defeated soldiers arrived, but he couldn't believe it. He called in survivors to hear it directly.
Lost? The Desmond forces, proud of being the mightiest in the North, had lost?
And this was against Perdium, despite their overwhelming numbers?
"Just how did we lose! A fire spell? A trap? Who in this kingdom could wield a spell capable of burning thousands of soldiers alive?"
Harold raised his voice.
None of the knights dared to speak.
Those who had experienced it firsthand could hardly comprehend what had happened, so how could those who hadn't?
Seeing everyone's silent, tense expressions, Harold's rage boiled over.
"You incompetent fools! Our entire force was annihilated, and you don't even know what hit you? What happened to Viktor?"
The men who had fled the battlefield had no idea what had become of Viktor.
BAM!
In the continued silence, Harold slammed his fist down on the table, shattering it.
Even Viktor, whom he had carefully nurtured, was now missing.
Missing on the battlefield meant either capture… or death.
For someone as valuable as Viktor, there was little chance he'd be left alive, so death seemed more likely.
It was bad enough to lose the specialized siege units, which took much longer to train than regular soldiers, but he had lost dozens of knights—men whose worth far outweighed mere soldiers.
The most painful loss, though, was that of Viktor, an extraordinary talent.
"Who in the world…!"
To make sure he crushed Perdium, Harold had thoroughly analyzed their forces before the war.
He'd even sent an overwhelming force with mages to support them.
According to the survivors, Perdium's forces didn't differ significantly from what he had anticipated before the war.
Even the supply levels were just as he'd estimated.
This meant there had to have been a critical, unforeseen factor.
Harold looked over the report again.
"Of course—it must have been them."
The report described the actions of a "black unit" in detail.
Harold pictured the scenes from the battlefield in his mind based on the report.
This "black unit" had moved in ways that would have caught him off guard, even if he'd been the one commanding.
Their bold and unpredictable maneuvers seemed more like those of wild beasts.
'This was a fluke. Just a fluke… Perdium can't have anyone that capable.'
He repeated this to himself, but Harold knew that the "black unit's" performance was no mere accident.
The trap they'd set at the end had been far too effective to chalk up to chance.
'How did they even manage a spell like that…?'
Even among the kingdom's two 7th-circle mages, none could have wielded such powerful magic.
Frustrated, Harold clenched his teeth. His fury and irritation clouded his thoughts.
The more he dwelled on it, the harder his expression became. His vassals and strategists gradually retreated from his side.
Harold was a cold, calculating man. It was rare to see him lose his temper, and he was known to execute subordinates without hesitation when they made mistakes.
The anger on his face, unfamiliar as it was, terrified his men. But as his expression grew colder, they feared he might blame them all and kill them in a fit of rage.
"Hoo… Now's not the time for this."
Breaking away from the report, Harold glared at his vassals.
To him, they looked like cowards, concerned only with fleeing from responsibility.
'If I had the time, I'd kill them all.'
Swallowing his frustration, Harold ordered his vassals and strategists.
"We need to prepare for Rayfold's moves."
It wouldn't happen immediately, but before long, Rayfold would likely get wind of the situation.
The Count Rayfold, always scheming to seize control of the North, wouldn't miss an opportunity like this.
Desmond was among the strongest in the North, but having lost so many troops, they couldn't easily fend off Rayfold right now.
"Advance Amelia's rebellion. All other matters are to be set aside. Focus on this task alone."
"Understood."
The strategists only nodded in agreement, intimidated by Harold's bloodshot eyes.
Arguing here would be fatal.
But Harold's frown showed no sign of easing.
'It's a mess.'
He had planned to accelerate the rebellion eventually, but he hadn't intended to rush things like this.
The aftermath of the lost war had disrupted everything, and he couldn't shake the feeling that all his plans were unraveling.
"The Duke's family won't ignore this, either."
The assassination attempt had little chance of escalating into full-scale territorial conflict, and he'd had other contingencies in place if it failed.
But losing to Perdium in an actual territorial war, along with most of his forces, was a glaring error that might bring his competence into question.
Though his skills were rare and likely wouldn't get him killed immediately, his position was now more precarious than ever.
The Duke Delphine was notoriously ruthless.
And then there were those mysterious figures who appeared out of nowhere to assist the Duke.
'The Duke is bad enough, but those people…'
Their plans to overthrow the kingdom had only started after they showed up.
They'd suffer losses, too, from this failure, so it was possible they'd…
'No, no… I can't die here.'
He had climbed too far to let it end like this.
He'd have to persuade them, argue that Rayfold was still a threat and that success was still possible.
'If we'd won the war, we could have expanded even further. If only Viktor were here…'
Clutching his aching head, Harold staggered out of his office.
***
Meow.
Sitting in her carriage, Amelia dangled a piece of grass, entertaining her cat, Bastet.
The cat leapt playfully, pouncing at the grass.
Watching her with a gentle smile, Amelia stifled a small yawn.
"This is getting boring."
She'd blocked the route to Perdium, expecting news from their messengers, but no one else had come.
Though the war wasn't over yet, Amelia continued her blockade at the route leading to Perdium.
She'd been gone a while, but no one would question it.
With her frequent attendance at social gatherings, she was rarely at home, anyway.
The reputation she'd built over the years allowed her the freedom to act as she pleased.
"What's taking them so long?"
She stopped playing with the grass and sat up straight.
With the kind of force Desmond had deployed, the outcome should have been clear by now. The lack of news for over a week was concerning.
"Something must have happened."
The moment she suspected Ghislain had ambushed Digald's supply forces, she had sent people to observe the battlefield.
She wanted to know what that madman was up to.
At that moment, Bernaph knocked on the carriage door.
"Young lady, the agents have returned."
A few scouts approached Amelia cautiously from behind Bernaph.
They were disheveled, holding out grimy reports.
Having hastily written them en route, the reports were nearly illegible.
While Amelia preferred her information to be well-organized, the circumstances made it difficult for her men to provide anything better.
She wrinkled her nose briefly at the untidy papers but accepted them without complaint and began reading.
Her hands froze several times as she flipped through the pages.
Eventually, she looked up and spoke.
"Explain it to me in detail."
Given permission, the scouts animatedly described the battle, using both gestures and words.
Bernaph took a step back, watching.
'She looks stunning even when she's angry… but I'd better keep my distance.'
Ever since Ghislain had swindled her, Amelia had been uncharacteristically furious at anything involving him.
This time would likely be no different.
Even Bastet sensed the shift in Amelia's mood and moved to a corner, watching warily.
"I see… that's how it went?"
But to Bernaph's surprise, she only nodded without any visible anger.
Amelia pondered for a moment before asking Bernaph a question.
"How could they have set up such a trap? Magic powerful enough to incinerate thousands of soldiers… Did Perdium even have the resources for that?"
"Even a 7th-circle mage would struggle with that. If they had access to magic of that caliber, the Duke Delphine would have already overthrown the kingdom as soon as he secured a 7th circle mage. That level of power would likely require at least an 8th-circle mage."
"Right. Even the royal mages couldn't pull this off. So, who could've wielded such powerful magic?"
"For a single person to manage something like that… you'd need a 'Guardian of the World Tree' or a 'Lord of the Dead.'"
Amelia chuckled, shaking her head.
"That's impossible."
Those figures might indeed be capable of such miracles, but there was no way they would help Perdium.
The legendary, independent figures who lived by their own rules had no reason to involve themselves with some backwater estate.
Then, a satisfied smile appeared on Amelia's lips.
"I understand now."
"What do you mean?"
"Think about it. How could a minor territory like Perdium have accessed such powerful magic? There's only one way."
"And that would be…? Wait, you mean…"
"Rune Stones. They must've used a lot of Rune Stones. If the flames erupted from the ground, they must have buried them in advance."
Bernaph looked skeptical.
"The amount of Rune Stones required would be astronomical. That's practically Perdium's budget for decades. To spend that much on a trap… it's absurd."
An outrageous, reckless plan.
But Ghislain was the kind to do such things without a second thought.
"Knowing that lunatic, it's entirely possible. Yes, that has to be it. He must believe the losses were worth it."
Amelia prided herself on knowing Ghislain better than anyone else.
To deal with him, you couldn't rely on conventional thinking.
She glanced over the report again, visualizing the events in her mind, and smirked.
"So, he trained and mobilized troops that quickly? That scoundrel actually had such skills? Or maybe he has an advisor guiding him. Maybe I let a good man slip away."
Bernaph made a face, but Amelia ignored him, deep in thought.
It was too early to be certain. She needed more information.
"Let's head back. No need to stay here. Get everyone ready immediately."
Bernaph looked baffled.
"You want to gather the troops? Why?"
"Desmond's forces got crushed. Do you think my father will stay put? That greedy old fool? Of course not."
"…"
"As soon as he gets word, he'll find an excuse to attack Desmond. 'How dare they touch our allies, Perdium! I may have been slow to act, but I won't stand for this now!'"
Bernaph scratched his head, uncertain.
"What does that have to do with us assembling our troops…?"
"Bernaph, haven't I always told you to think? Harold's forces are decimated, significantly so. If my father mobilizes troops now, what do you think will happen?"
When Bernaph remained blank-faced, Amelia sighed and continued.
"Do you think Harold won't know that? He may be sneaky, but he isn't stupid. So, what will he do?"
"Won't he ask the Duke's family for support?"
"No. The Duke's currently pressuring the royal family. If Delphine mobilizes troops, the crown won't stay idle. It'd get too complicated."
"Then…?"
"Yes, he'll have to push my rebellion forward. That's his only option now. And that means I'll get a damaged Rayfold."
If the rebellion proceeded in haste, the estate would suffer, leaving her with a less valuable prize.
Amelia sighed in frustration.
It wasn't just Rayfold's potential damage that irritated her.
"Ghislain, you managed to survive again. I thought for sure you'd die this time, but you're still alive. At this point, it's more than luck—it's uncanny."
She'd tried to deny it out of pride, but she had to admit it.
Ghislain wasn't an easy opponent.
Despite her growing anger, she worked to maintain her composure.
The stronger her adversary, the colder she became.
This was the true nature of Amelia that Ghislain feared.
"He's bought himself some time. Desmond's lost their momentum, and the Duke is too preoccupied to go after Ghislain right now."
"Would it have been better to take him out before the war?"
"Well…"
Amelia paused, considering Bernaph's question.
She'd been certain before, but now, less so.
"Let's secure Rayfold first and think about it."
"Why not just let it go? The Duke's family will likely handle Perdium eventually."
Amelia sighed again.
She desperately wanted to see Ghislain dead, but she had other priorities. She couldn't waste time on personal grudges.
"Yes, for now, let's leave him be. He's made enemies of Harold and the Duke, so he's as good as dead anyway. We'll focus on our own goals."
Claiming the title of Countess Rayfold wasn't her ultimate ambition. It was merely the beginning; her aspirations were far greater.
"But when the chance arises, I'll make sure he's destroyed."
Her final words carried a chill unlike any she'd ever shown.
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]