Berhem’s madness didn’t stop at consuming the lives of others.

“Why isn’t the war preparation finished yet?”

He needed to kill Count Fenris, the one who had driven him into this corner. Just thinking about him made Berhem’s rage boil over uncontrollably.

He constantly pressured Marquiss Domont, impatient to send his "great army" to crush the North.

Marquiss Domont, drenched in nervous sweat, desperately tried to calm him.

“Your Majesty, we need more time to prepare. Please, be patient.”

Waging war wasn’t something that could be done on a whim, especially against a formidable enemy like the northern army.

The …