As word spread like wildfire that Duchess Veronica had arrived at Hild Fortress, the air became thick with anticipation. It was as if the scent of power had wafted through the streets, and the nobles—like ravenous cats sensing blood—could not resist the pull.
Some arrived in elaborate carriages, their wheels rolling through the stone streets with a gentle yet authoritative sound. Others rode on swift, muscular horses, their riders adorned in the finest silks and robes. Like a tide, the nobility flooded toward the center of Hild Fortress, a mass of wealth, power, and ambition.
From a bird's-eye view, the scene was both chaotic and mesmerizing. The nobles converged in a swirling mass, their bright attire and opulent crowns sparkling in the daylight, like a swarm of greedy flies buzzing around a potential feast. The streets were alive with the rustling of fine fabrics, the clinking of precious metals, and the murmur of excited voices.
Each noble walked with a sense of purpose, their faces adorned with expressions of servitude and sycophantic smiles. It was clear to anyone watching that each one of them was eager to present themselves in the best light possible—to prove their loyalty, to show how indispensable they were to Duchess Veronica's cause. They hoped, perhaps desperately, that this audience would be their chance to earn the Duchess's favor, to be rewarded with wealth, power, or even an official title.
But amid the sea of flattery and insincere smiles, there were a few who stood apart. These were the ones who had seen through the political games, who understood that this meeting, like all others, was a masked dance of power and manipulation. They kept their distance, their eyes sharp, calculating. They knew that within this crowd lay an ocean of hidden intentions, where a single misstep could plunge them into a pit of ruin.
For all their ambition, they could not resist the pull of power. They joined the throng, all too aware that this was not a mere court gathering, but a pivotal moment in the struggle for control over the Duchy.
Victory, after all, was already all but guaranteed. The Goddess of Victory had clearly chosen her side: humanity. Once Duchess Veronica defeated the mighty Steel Dragon, the remnants of the Moiy Forest's beasts would be as weak as ragged street dogs—no threat to the Duchy. The war, once bloody and uncertain, now seemed like a mere formality.
Yet, even as the certainty of victory loomed large, the nobles began to scheme. Their thoughts had already turned to the spoils of war, to the future of their dominion. The beasts of the Moiy Forest, once a dangerous menace, could now be used for a variety of profitable ventures. Some of the more forward-thinking nobles were already planning how they might exploit these creatures for financial gain.
"There are many ways we can use these magical beasts," one particularly shrewd noble whispered to another as they strolled through the throngs. "Some of the more docile creatures can be tamed and raised as loyal companions, even used in combat or as mounts for our knights."
"Agreed," his companion replied, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "And those rare species—especially the more exotic ones—will fetch a high price on the market. Think of the riches that could come from breeding them. Market demand for magical components and rare ingredients for potions and spells is ever-growing. If we can monopolize that trade, we'll secure our place in the Duchy's future."
These plans were not without risk, of course. The delicate balance of power was already precarious. The question of who would control the beasts—and the resources they provided—was bound to cause friction among the noble houses. Once the creatures of the Moiy Forest had been subdued, it would not be long before the noble houses turned on each other in a scramble for control of the most lucrative markets.
Such conflicts could easily lead to instability. Tensions between rival houses, fueled by the distribution of wealth and resources, could ignite new feuds—feuds that might spiral out of control and affect the course of the war. What was once a simple matter of defeating the Steel Dragon could soon become an internal struggle for dominance.
Still, the nobles seemed oblivious to this looming threat. They were so consumed with the allure of power and riches that they couldn't—or wouldn't—see the dangers that lay ahead. They trusted too much in the absolute power of the Duchess, believing that her victory was a foregone conclusion, and that nothing could shake her grip on the Duchy.
This was not an unfounded belief. After all, Veronica had already demonstrated her military prowess in the previous campaign. In that war, she had personally ridden the mighty Golden Dragon, Vivienne, into battle against the Steel Dragon. The fierce confrontation had left the once-unstoppable creature in tatters, fleeing in disgrace after being decisively defeated.
Had it not been for a treacherous surprise attack by the Steel Dragon during a crucial moment, the battle might have already been won, and the war's end would have been celebrated as a glorious victory. The legendary tale of Duchess Veronica and her Golden Dragon would have been immortalized, echoing through the ages as one of the greatest military triumphs of the continent.
Such a victory would have secured Veronica's place as not just a powerful ruler but a symbol of hope and strength for all humanity. Her legend would have grown, her authority unquestioned. Even the most arrogant of nobles, those who thought themselves above the law, would have bowed before her and obeyed her every word.
But as things stood, Veronica still had work to do. While her reputation was already formidable, she had yet to achieve the kind of monumental victory that would cement her place as the undisputed ruler of the Duchy.
The nobles were right to believe that the war was nearly over, but they were wrong to think that it would end with just the death of the Steel Dragon. The consequences of that victory would be far-reaching, and the internal power struggles that would follow would shape the Duchy's future in ways that no one could predict.
As the nobles gathered for the audience with Duchess Veronica, the tension in the air was palpable. They had come with their hopes, their schemes, their expectations. They had come to witness history in the making.
But as they approached the grand hall where the Duchess awaited, they knew that this would not be a simple audience. The Duchess had proven herself a master of power, and the nobles would have to tread carefully if they hoped to gain favor. For in her presence, even the slightest misstep could lead to their ruin.
And so, one by one, the nobles entered the hall, each with their own agendas, each with their own hopes. But in the end, all of them would have to answer to Veronica—just as they had all answered to power.
Veronica stood at the far end of the hall, her posture regal, her presence commanding. She was not the type to be swayed by flattery, not the type to be impressed by wealth or titles. Her power came from her strength—her strength in battle, her strength of will. And the nobles knew that this audience, above all else, would test their ability to navigate the dangerous waters of court politics.
They would either rise to the occasion or sink beneath the weight of their own ambitions.
And so, the stage was set.
Back when Duchess Veronica first established this Duchy, she had the full backing of the most powerful nobles and the Emerald Kingdom itself. Unlike those great founders of nations who, with nothing but themselves and a single dragon, carved out vast territories and empires, Veronica's path to power was significantly more reliant on the influential forces behind her.
If it weren't for the formidable support she received from the Emerald Kingdom, there was no way she would have been granted permission to venture into the desolate southern lands to establish her rule. In fact, the southern wilderness had always been a special area—only in times of great internal pressure within the Emerald Kingdom, when the need for expansion became urgent, would the "Southern Expansion Decree" be issued. It was seen as a method of alleviating internal conflicts by shifting attention to the frontier.
Looking at the geographical location of the Duchy, it was easy to see why. To the north was the Emerald Kingdom's border, to the east and south, the vast ocean, and to the west, the expansive Moiy Forest. As the forest gradually became tamer and its magical beasts diminished, it was expected that in a few years, Duchess Veronica would be looking westward again, in search of new territories to expand into.
This strategy wasn't so much about one dragon-riding knight claiming lands on their own—one could not simply ride in and create a kingdom without the consent of neighboring nations. History had seen many dragon knights fall in battle or die at the hands of neighboring rulers who refused to allow any foreign expansion without their approval.
But once they succeeded, a dragon knight's fame could soar to unimaginable heights. They could even be revered as "gods" in their own country, the subject of legends that transcended time. Unfortunately for Veronica, she did not quite reach that pinnacle of fame. Her status, while great, never reached the legendary levels of those few who were considered divine by their people.
This, perhaps, was the very reason Veronica was determined to personally slay the Steel Dragon—to prove that her strength alone, without relying on the backing of others, was enough to secure her rule over a nation. She wanted to show that she was worthy of the throne, not just because of her noble bloodline or the backing of the Emerald Kingdom, but because she had the strength to govern.
But these noblemen, oblivious to the deeper currents at play, had no such concerns. They weren't thinking about the subtleties of power dynamics—they just wanted to get their faces in front of the Duchess, to pledge their loyalty and ingratiate themselves, hoping to earn some new land or other perks.
After receiving one noble delegation after another, Clobber was beginning to feel as though his voice would give out from the constant greeting. Since arriving at Hild Fortress with the Duchess, he'd already received dozens of noble families, with the most memorable being five marquises and nine earls. These fourteen families were the cream of the crop in the Duchy of Gold, controlling most of the land and resources.
As the Duchess's herald, it was Clobber's responsibility to greet these important guests. After all, it wasn't appropriate for the Duchess herself to handle these mundane tasks; someone like Clobber, a trusted member of her inner circle, was the perfect person for the job.
The first to come for the audience was Marquis Frostwolf, the cold and battle-hardened noble known for his iron-fisted rule. His most famous achievement came from the last campaign, where he single-handedly took down a formidable Chimera beast using a combat technique of his own invention.
This Marquis, appearing to be in his early thirties, had the look of someone you didn't want to cross. He always wore a stony expression, and even when Clobber, representing the Duchess, greeted him, the man's face remained cold and distant.
Clobber had initially assumed that Marquis Frostwolf's icy demeanor was due to his disdain for a minor figure like himself. However, when he observed Frostwolf interacting with the Duchess, he realized that the Marquis treated everyone the same way—no one was exempt from his frosty presence.
"Don't be fooled by Byron's appearance," Veronica explained to Clobber when she saw the confusion in his eyes. "That's just a result of the injuries he sustained twenty years ago when he tried to merge with the Frostwolf Chimera and become a Beast Knight. The process left his face frozen in that expression, unable to show anything else. But underneath that tough exterior, he's actually a decent man—at least far more sincere than most of the nobles."
Clobber, though surprised, nodded respectfully, understanding now that the Marquis's icy façade was a product of his past rather than an indication of his personality. With a bow, Clobber acknowledged the explanation, as proper etiquette dictated.
The next few nobles were more difficult to place for Clobber, as many were unfamiliar faces. There was the ominous-looking Shadow Serpent Marquis, whose presence sent a chill through the air, and the tall, upright Greengrass Marquis, who exuded an air of stoic nobility.
It was worth noting that Greengrass Marquis was the only one of the five marquises who wasn't a Beast Knight. However, if all went well, once Earl Daniel ascended to a marquis title, Greengrass's distinction would no longer seem so special.
Greengrass Marquis, true to his upright and determined nature, didn't waste time with pleasantries when he saw Clobber. His face immediately dropped into a frown.
When it was his turn to meet the Duchess, Greengrass wasted no time with formalities. He went straight to the point, advising Veronica to focus less on the trivial matters of the current moment and think instead about how to strengthen the Duchy and ensure the nation's long-term prosperity.
Despite his imposing stature, Greengrass's words flowed like an endless stream of advice. He spoke non-stop, and it wasn't until he saw the Duchess's clearly darkening expression that he finally stopped talking, realizing perhaps he had overstepped his bounds.
As for the other two marquises, they had already met with the Duchess in Crownflower City, and Veronica didn't feel the need to waste time on them again. She had more important matters to attend to, and besides, their presence was no longer necessary.
The noble court had gathered, each one hoping to gain favor with the Duchess, to win her approval and perhaps, through that, carve out a place for themselves in her burgeoning Duchy. But as the audience continued, it became clear that not all were motivated by loyalty alone. Beneath the surface of every flattering smile and respectful bow, there were ambitions, calculations, and schemes in play.
And Veronica, ever the shrewd ruler, watched it all unfold with a calm demeanor, her eyes sharp and calculating. For her, the real work had only just begun.