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Chapter: 46
Under the shared cause of subjugating Abaddon, Brienne, Loren, and the Grand Temple all sprang into motion.
Upon hearing of Loren’s support, Brienne dispatched twelve thousand soldiers to Blouar as originally planned. Driven by the resolve to never allow their lands to be trampled again—and by rage over the cities that had already fallen—they pressed southward without rest.
Meanwhile, Loren’s army, led by Claude, advanced toward Royse Castle with ten thousand troops: knights, regular soldiers, and mercenaries combined.
When word spread that the Children of the Two Goddesses were fighting together, the soldiers’ morale soared sky-high.
To save time, the Loren army chose a route that cut straight through the Forest of Brocéliande. Normally considered a dangerous shortcut due to its abundance of monsters and wild beasts, the forest became eerily quiet as a force of ten thousand surged through it. The creatures that dwelled there were too busy hiding to pose any threat.
With every soldier riding a Chatel warhorse, their marching speed increased dramatically.
By the second night after departing Loren, they had already emerged from the forest, and by the morning of the fifth day, they entered the Domain of Dorman. Not a trace of exhaustion showed on the soldiers’ faces, and knowing they would soon reach the castle only heightened their spirits.
When the sun reached its zenith, the Loren army arrived at the fortified city of Royse.
Something felt off.
They approached the gates and waved Loren’s banner, but no matter how close they drew, the gates did not open.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t they moving at all?”
“Did they not see the flag?”
“We’re waving it like crazy!”
As murmurs spread among the soldiers, Cedric volunteered to check and rode alone up to the castle walls.
“We are reinforcements from Loren! Open the gates at once!”
The sentries atop the wall held a brief discussion among themselves, then a man who appeared to be in charge shouted back.
“We apologize, but allowing this many soldiers to enter at once would cause confusion among the citizens! Only four representatives may enter the city!”
“His Grace Claude de Loren, Grand Duke of Loren, is here in person! How dare you issue such commands!”
“E-Even so, there’s nothing we can do!”
It was true that chaos might erupt, just as the guard claimed. Still, to Jeanne, the demand was incomprehensible—and judging by the looks around her, everyone else felt the same.
The lord of this city was Count Chevalier. Claude was a Grand Duke.
Rather than ordering Claude around, the count should have informed the citizens in advance. No—by rights, the count himself should have come out to greet them.
“Come back, Cedric.”
Yet Claude called Cedric back as if it were nothing. Cedric returned, but it was clear the insult sat heavily with him.
“Your Grace. There’s no need to entertain such insolent demands. I’ll go in and drag the lord out myself.”
“That’s just asking for a fight.”
Claude soothed him calmly.
“If we waste time over wounded pride, we’re the ones who lose. We’ll speak to the lord quickly and come back out.”
Accepting the situation with composure, Claude glanced over the division commanders and gave his orders.
“Everyone except the accompanying escorts will wait here. The escorts will be Laurent, Hugo, and—”
His gaze met hers.
“Jeanne.”
Jeanne’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected her name to be called. The others were equally puzzled as to why she had been chosen over the other commanders.
She didn’t know the reason, but an order was an order. Ignoring the curious stares, Jeanne stepped forward.
“Why did you call for me?”
“Because having a Child of the Goddess watching over us is reassuring.”
“……You’re a Child of the Goddess yourself.”
She muttered it under her breath, but Claude must have heard anyway—he let out a small chuckle and spurred his horse toward the gate.
As only the four of them approached, the tightly shut gates finally opened.
The moment they entered the city, Jeanne understood why the guards had hesitated.
It was unnervingly quiet.
All the shops were open, and people wandered the streets as usual. If anything, the four of them hurrying toward the lord’s manor looked out of place.
“Young master… no matter how I look at this…”
“The citizens know nothing.”
At the same time, the city felt as though a dark cloud hung over it. At a glance it looked like an ordinary street, but there was no vitality—and beggars could be seen everywhere.
It made no sense, even apart from the monster threat.
Carrying their doubts, the four arrived at the lord’s manor.
As they dismounted, a man who appeared to be the head steward emerged.
“Welcome, Your Grace. The lord is waiting for you.”
They followed him inside. Compared to Claude’s residence, the manor was smaller, yet expensive works of art lined the corridors in abundance.
Looking around in fascination, Laurent leaned in and whispered mockingly to Claude.
“The streets are full of beggars, yet it’s absolute prosperity in here.”
Jeanne silently nodded in agreement. Even before meeting him, she could already guess what kind of man the lord was.
Citizens in poverty, a lord in luxury…
And they had to ask this man for cooperation. Her head was already starting to ache.
“My lord. His Grace the Grand Duke of Loren has arrived.”
“Oh! Tell him to come in!”
The voice beyond the door sounded shamelessly cheerful, making Jeanne frown.
When the doors opened and they stepped inside, a hollow laugh escaped her.
The room was decorated like a royal audience chamber, and a middle-aged man—presumably the lord—sat upon a raised seat like a king.
“Welcome, Your Grace! I’ve been waiting eagerly for your arrival!”
The count rose and descended the short steps.
With his arms spread wide and his swaggering gait, even Laurent and Hugo stiffened in disbelief. To an outsider, it would have looked as though a king were welcoming his vassal.
Yet Claude remained perfectly calm, as though he intended to see just how far the man would go.
“It’s been a while, Count Chevalier. Was the last time Queen Her Majesty’s birthday banquet four years ago?”
“Oh my! I’m honored that you remember me. You were still so young then, and now look at you—grown into such a fine man! Time truly flies! Hahaha!”
…He’s laughing?
With the enemy practically at their doorstep and the citizens completely unaware, the count’s casual small talk made Jeanne’s neck stiffen as blood rushed to her head.
Outwardly she endured it, but in her mind she had already grabbed him by the collar and demanded to know if he’d lost his mind.
While she restrained herself, knowing it wasn’t her place to step in, Claude responded with polite restraint.
“But it seems you haven’t informed the citizens of the situation.”
“Oh my! Can you imagine the chaos if I did? Everyone would try to flee the city at once. Worst case, it could even lead to a riot.”
“Isn’t it your responsibility to maintain order and guide them through it?”
“Your Grace may not know this yet due to your lack of experience, but these commoners are poorly educated and don’t listen well. What else can one do? It’s best to keep them ignorant and resolve things quietly.”
“…Is that so?”
“Of course! And besides, now that you’ve arrived with ten thousand troops, isn’t victory already assured?”
…This bastard.
Jeanne nearly unleashed her aura. She forced herself to swallow her fury, but her clenched fist looked ready to strike at any moment.
Endure. I have to endure. If anyone gets angry, it should be Claude—not me.
Claude seemed to be thinking the same; his shoulders rose and fell noticeably. She didn’t need words to know he was holding himself back as well.
“I’m not foolish enough to fight a battle I intend to lose.”
“Exactly! Ah, but there’s no reason for us to stand around like this. Come, follow me! I’ve prepared a particularly fine wine just for you, Your Grace.”
“…I’ll pass. I need to go out and organize the formation.”
“Oh, come now. Physical labor is for subordinates, isn’t it? Noble blood like yours and mine need only exert itself in bed. Ahahaha!”
Her hand moved toward her sword. If Claude hadn’t been standing in front of her, her blade would already have been pointed at the count.
The pressure of knowing that failing here meant losing her homeland was already driving her to the edge—and the count’s words only poured oil on the fire.
Thanks only to Claude’s composed response and Laurent whispering for her to endure, she didn’t draw her weapon.
“Keep that celebratory wine for later. I’m not the type to sit back and watch from behind.”
The atmosphere shifted abruptly when a glow leaked from Claude’s inner pocket.
“—Your Grace.”
What he took out was a portable communication device shaped like a small round hand mirror.
“—Urgent report. The northern monster army has changed course to the southeast, five o’clock direction.”
