“Ugh! How could this happen in such a place?”

Victor could hardly contain his frustration.

While the loss in troops wasn't significant, losing one of the precious and expensive siege towers was a huge mistake. And what made it worse was that the retreat wasn't part of a calculated strategy—it was a forced retreat, which wounded his pride.

"Huff, huff..."
Victor seethed, breathing heavily, while Tamos stood next to him with a skeptical expression.

‘Is this guy just an incompetent fool?’

Victor had boasted about his strategy and siege tactics, yet here they were, retreating without inflicting any real damage.

However, Tamos couldn’t completely dismiss the situation. Even to someone as inexperienced in combat as him, the black-armored warriors from earlier had appeared exceptionally strong. If they had attacked without Desmond's assistance, their siege would have been crushed before it even began.

"Ahem. By the way, those black-armored soldiers seemed quite powerful. Are we going to be alright?"

"They are not knights. Their movements didn’t show the use of mana."

"Not knights, but that strong?"

"With proper training and command, such strength is possible. Besides, if they had hundreds of knights, they would have just stormed through the gate. It’s not like Feridium has that kind of force."

"Hmph. So, what’s the plan now? Are we just going to sit here and wait? It doesn’t seem to be working, so why not just charge in with everything we’ve got?"

Victor glared at him with fierce eyes, causing Tamos to raise his hands in surrender, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"It’s just a suggestion, of course. I’ll leave it to your expert judgment."

Victor snorted and turned away, but Tamos wasn’t done. Glancing around nervously, he quietly added:

"I heard we have two 4th-circle mages with us. Why not use their power?"

“It’s not time yet.”

Victor’s voice was cold, filled with annoyance.

Tamos pursed his lips, muttering quietly to himself.

‘Tch, typical knightly arrogance…’

From what Tamos had observed, the relationship between Victor and the mages was far from smooth.

Though Tamos was no fighter, he was quite adept at navigating the murky waters of politics. And to his sharp eyes, it was clear that every encounter between Victor and the mages was tense and uncomfortable.

‘Well, it’s no surprise. Knights and mages rarely get along.’

A 4th-circle mage could serve as a personal mage for any major territory. Even if Victor asked for their help, there was no guarantee that the prideful mages would comply with his orders.

Shaking his head, Tamos slipped out of the tent. Staying any longer would only earn him more scorn.

Alone now, Victor let out a hot breath, muttering bitterly.

"Damn it... What a humiliation."

He was more enraged by the fact that the Feridium, whom he had expected to crush easily, had caught him off guard. The image of that black-armored warrior who had ravaged his forces and destroyed the siege tower kept flashing in his mind.

'That warrior was strong, but… there’s no way he could have made such quick decisions in that brief moment. He probably just acted on brute strength and luck.'

Victor tried to justify the defeat to protect his pride, convincing himself that the enemy had simply been desperate and rash.

However, he couldn’t stay complacent. Slowly calming his anger, Victor decided to shift tactics.

"I underestimated them."

Victor acknowledged that his opponent was stronger than expected. Though Feridium was a mere rural territory, its soldiers, hardened by the battles of the northern regions, weren’t easy to deal with.

"I’ll shake them from the inside."

Victor quietly summoned ten knights and gave them new orders.

"Tomorrow night, infiltrate Feridium and seize control of the eastern gate. I will have 500 cavalry and 1,000 infantry standing by. Once you secure the gate, signal me. We will storm in immediately."

The knights, looking troubled, asked cautiously:

"Are we capable of this on our own? They’ll likely have the gate well-guarded."

Feridium might have fewer soldiers, but their defenses were still vigilant. If a large enemy force breached the walls, they would immediately signal for reinforcements.

But Victor reassured them.

"There’s a collaborator inside, so don’t worry. If seizing the gate proves too difficult, cause fires and create chaos. And…"

Victor’s voice turned icy as he continued.

"Amid the confusion, assassinate Zebalter. A Feridium knight will guide you."

The next day, Victor's army launched another attack on the fortress. However, unlike the previous day, their assault was half-hearted.

They merely sent shield-bearers forward and fired arrows at the walls. The Feridium soldiers responded in kind, both sides exchanging fire with minimal casualties.

By noon, Victor’s forces had withdrawn.

"Uraaaah!"
Despite the odd behavior of the enemy, the Feridium soldiers cheered, celebrating another day of survival.

The commanders suspected that Victor had something up his sleeve, but with no clear understanding of his intentions, there was little they could do.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

That night, fireworks erupted from the enemy camp.

Feridium’s soldiers looked on, baffled.

"Are they already celebrating victory?"

"But we were the ones who won today. Did someone set those off by mistake?"

While the soldiers murmured among themselves, Ghislain crossed his arms, deep in thought.

'That signal…'

Watching the fading light of the fireworks, he narrowed his eyes and quietly moved away.

As night fell, a portion of Victor's army began moving under the cover of darkness.

The knights, cloaked in black robes to avoid detection, searched for the weakest section of the wall.

"Move quickly. This spot will do."

Feridium’s limited manpower meant they couldn’t guard every section of the wall closely. The knights soon found a spot with fewer sentries and used mana to leap over the walls with ease.

Assassinations during war were not uncommon, and these knights had experience in such tactics. With an insider aiding them, there was little cause for concern.

It wasn’t long before they encountered a knight who had been waiting for them.

"Are you Dren?"

The knight, standing in the shadows, nodded.

He was one of Harold’s spies planted in Feridium. While two other traitorous retainers had fled to Digald’s territory to justify the war, Dren had remained behind.

Count Desmond, ever cautious and meticulous, had prepared for every eventuality, and Dren was one of those contingencies.

"Yes. Time is short, so let’s move quickly. The soldiers won’t suspect anything as long as I’m with you."

Dren spoke hurriedly, clearly nervous about being discovered. The knights nodded and followed his lead.

But before they had taken more than a few steps, someone jumped down in front of them from a nearby rooftop.

THUD!

"Well, well! You all seem pretty busy for such a late hour. Did you miss dinner?"

SCHINK!

Dren and the knights quickly drew their swords.

Recognizing the figure in front of him, Dren muttered under his breath.

"The Grand Duke?"

Despite having always underestimated Ghislain, Dren had witnessed his remarkable performance during the current war. He knew he stood no chance against him in a one-on-one fight.

But that was only in a one-on-one battle.

No matter how skilled the Grand Duke was, he couldn’t possibly take on eleven knights at once.

"We have to silence him quickly!" Dren urged the knights.

But Ghislain remained calm, raising one hand with a relaxed expression.

CLANG! CLANG!

As if waiting for the signal, black-armored mercenaries poured out from the surrounding buildings.

The knights were stunned.

"You knew about us! How did you know our exact movements?"

"Was it you, Dren? Did you betray us?" one of the knights shouted, accusing Dren.

Dren, sweating profusely, shook his head frantically.

"No! It wasn’t me! I swear!"

The mercenaries had surrounded the knights, each wielding a crossbow.

CLICK!

The knights gritted their teeth as they stared down hundreds of crossbow bolts. Even with their mastery of mana, there was no way they could dodge so many arrows.

As they stood frozen, unsure of their next move, Ghislain dusted off his trousers and spoke.

"Dren, so you were a traitor too. Why are there so many spies in this territory? How much did they pay you?"

"Dammit! How did you know?"

Realizing that escape was impossible, Dren stopped denying his betrayal.

Ghislain shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"Well, I didn’t know exactly who the traitor was. But I figured you’d try to sneak in tonight. I’ve fought in a few wars before, you know."

In his previous life, Ghislain had fought Harold Desmond countless times.

It had ended when he crushed Desmond’s skull, but that was another story.

"What...?"
To those who didn’t know Ghislain’s secret, his words sounded like nonsense.

While Dren looked bewildered, the knights tightened their grips on their swords and slowly inched closer to Ghislain.

Their plan was to take him hostage and escape.

Watching their cautious approach, Ghislain narrowed his eyes.

"Ah, I see. You must be Desmond’s knights. Impressive."

The knights stiffened.

They had come under Digald’s banner, so while it wasn’t a stretch to assume outside forces were involved, the fact that Ghislain knew they served Desmond was alarming.

Seeing their unease, Ghislain smirked.

"Welcome to Feridium. First time here, isn’t it?"

"...Attack!"

Having been found out completely, the knights had nothing left to lose. They charged at Ghislain with their swords raised.

CLANG! CLANG!

Their assault was quickly blocked by Gillian and Kaor, who appeared at Ghislain’s sides like lightning.

SWOOSH!

From the shadows behind Ghislain, several daggers flew out, striking the knights.

THUNK! THUNK! THUNK!

"Urgh!"

Three of the knights collapsed, their throats pierced by the unexpected attack.

At the same time, the mercenaries fired their crossbows, sending bolts flying toward the remaining knights.

TWANG! TWANG!

"Argh!"

Even with their armor, the crossbow bolts were powerful enough to pierce through at such close range.

Most of the knights were now lying on the ground, riddled with bolts.

A few managed to deflect the bolts with their swords, using their mana to shield themselves, but they were barely clinging to life.

"Ugh…"

Only five knights, including Dren, were still breathing.

"Wow, five of you are still alive. Desmond really did send his best, huh?"

Ghislain sounded impressed as he approached them.

Even he wouldn’t have emerged unscathed if he had been caught in such a barrage of crossbow fire. The fact that these knights had survived was a testament to their skill.

"Though you don’t seem like you’ll stay standing for long."

The knights, bleeding heavily, sank to the ground.

Dren, gasping for breath, pleaded as Ghislain drew closer.

"Please... Please spare me! I was wrong. Grand Duke, I beg of you…"

Ghislain sighed, shaking his head as he accepted an axe from Gillian.

"It’s a shame. We’re short on knights as it is. It breaks my heart that a talented one like you turned traitor. What went wrong?"

Seeing a glimmer of hope, Dren desperately clung to it.

"Please! I’ll never betray you again! I know all of their plans…"

CRACK!

Before he could finish, Dren’s head was split open, his body collapsing to the ground.

"I don’t need it."

Shaking the blood off his axe, Ghislain turned toward the remaining knights.

One of them, sensing an opportunity, shouted:

"We surrender! We surrender! Treat us as prisoners of war! We can pay ransom…"

CRACK!

The knight’s head was cleaved in two before he could finish his plea.

The other knights were paralyzed with shock.

Killing a surrendering knight violated every code of conduct they had ever known.

They had never seen someone so brutally disregard the rules of warfare.

"What? Do you think that was too much? Did you not expect to die when you came here on an assassination mission?"

Ghislain had been grinning, but now his face turned cold.

Tradition, rules, honor—those were meaningless here.

He would not be shackled by customs or expectations. His only goal was to destroy his enemies.

Ghislain crouched in front of the remaining knights, his voice low and menacing.

"The first one to speak will die."

"..."

"If you so much as twitch, you’ll die."

"..."

The knights were too terrified to say a word.

"Answer only what I ask. If you hesitate, you die."