Chapter 195: Go On Ahead and Wait (3)
Ghislain had been able to avoid the pressure from the Ducal Family and Harold thus far, thanks to Amelia. But nothing lasts forever.
In the end, Harold decided to target Ghislain in earnest.
Of course, Harold’s vassals were all stunned by his decision. Harold was a man so capable that the Ducal Family trusted him to oversee the entire northern region.
Now, that very same Harold was openly defying the orders of the Ducal Family.
One of his vassals, breaking into a cold sweat, asked cautiously,
“Are you saying we should prioritize the annihilation of Fenris and Ferdium?”
“Yes. Divert all funds, troops, and resources currently allocated for preparing Amelia’s rebellion to the attack on Baron Fenris. Since Amelia insists she can handle things on her own, we’ll review only the most critical requests and provide minimal support.”
The vassals could not make sense of his decision.
Baron Fenris had been gaining prominence recently, but even so, his importance paled in comparison to Amelia’s plans.
“If Amelia’s rebellion fails, it could lead to serious repercussions. Currently, there’s no one in her camp capable of standing against Captain Yurgen, the man dubbed the ‘Northern’s Greatest Sword.’ Additionally, the troops she has are grossly insufficient to guarantee a successful rebellion. Are you certain about this course of action?”
“We’ll untangle the most troublesome knot first. If we leave that man unchecked, the northern situation will worsen. Count Raypold is struggling to raise his army due to the drought, so it’s better to deal with Fenris first.”
“Baron Fenris is still far weaker than Count Raypold. Wouldn’t it be wiser to take a risk and wrap up Amelia’s rebellion quickly instead—”
“Enough.”
Harold’s face twisted with anger, and the vassal immediately fell silent. One more word, and his head might have flown right there.
Harold scanned the faces of his vassals again and declared,
“By any means necessary, crush that man first. Prepare accordingly.”
This was no longer the same as before. To Harold, Ghislain was no longer a lucky upstart who could be dealt with later. He was now a definite enemy that needed to be eliminated without delay.
And with that realization, Harold began reanalyzing the current state of affairs to reflect this shift.
“I can’t allow that man to monopolize the iron ore. If that happens, it will cause significant disruptions to our long-term military supply. Immediately prepare the food and reinforcements to send to Count Cabaldi.”
“R-right now? The Ducal Family is likely negotiating with the Royal Faction as we speak. Wouldn’t it be better to wait for the outcome of those negotiations before taking action?”
“It’s too late. Prepare everything immediately.”
“U-understood.”
The aide immediately lowered his head under Harold’s gaze, which carried an aura of killing intent.
As Count Fowd had anticipated, Harold made a swift decision.
This was partly because he now recognized Ghislain’s capabilities.
With time being short, there was no room for elaborate preparations. They could only ready a contingent of troops and provisions to hold out for a little while.
“We will depart immediately, my lord.”
Emerson, who was in charge of the mission, saluted Harold.
He was a renowned figure known for his expertise in mobile warfare, serving as the commander of the cavalry unit.
Had Viktor not been present, the role of commanding the defense of Ferdium would have likely fallen to Emerson.
That Harold was willing to dispatch someone of such value underscored the urgency of the situation.
With a determined expression, Harold spoke to Emerson.
“By any means necessary, deliver the provisions to Cabaldi Castle as quickly as possible. Hold out, and I will send a second wave of reinforcements soon.”
“Understood. I will succeed without fail.”
“I’m counting on you.”
With 1,000 troops and provisions, Emerson rode out swiftly.
Though their numbers were inferior compared to the Fenris forces, as long as the Cabaldi troops responded promptly from within the castle, joining forces wouldn’t be difficult.
Harold judged that once they merged, the combined numbers on both sides would balance out, discouraging the enemy from launching a full-scale battle prematurely.
“Don’t stop! We’re within range to reach Cabaldi before their defenses crumble!”
Emerson harbored no doubts about the success of the operation.
Siege battles inherently took time, especially when the strategy relied on encirclement and attrition.
Considering that the distance between Count Desmond’s and Count Cabaldi’s territories wasn’t great and Harold had acted decisively, they should have had more than enough time to arrive before the Cabaldi troops either starved or surrendered.
But Emerson’s expectations were brutally shattered the moment they set foot outside the estate.
“W-what is this...?”
The fastest route to Cabaldi territory was blocked by a massive army of at least 5,000 troops.
It was the 2nd Legion of the Ritania Kingdom’s military, dispatched by the Marquis of Branford.
As Emerson reeled in shock, someone rode toward him on horseback.
“Well, well, who do we have here? Could it be the illustrious Sir Emerson, famed in the North?”
The man who spoke, smiling brightly, was Viscount Doren, commander of the 2nd Legion.
He was carrying out orders from the Marquis of Branford to monitor the area near Desmond’s territory, preparing for the worst-case scenario of having to attack Count Desmond directly.
Momentarily flustered, Emerson bowed his head slightly and bit his lip before speaking.
“Hah...”
Maurice let out a deep sigh as the surrounding nobles began murmuring in astonishment.
“Is Baron Fenris really so talented militarily? To end a siege so swiftly—against Count Cabaldi, no less!”
“Couldn’t it just be a stroke of luck? The Cabaldi forces were starving and probably couldn’t fight properly.”
“I disagree. Didn’t Baron Fenris play a major role in the Ferdium siege as well?”
“There’s no way Baron Fenris could’ve won in a fair fight.”
The nobles’ opinions split immediately. Since none of them had witnessed Ghislain in action, the room was abuzz with speculation.
However, there was one fact everyone could agree on.
“In any case, this is a great outcome! For now, the Ducal Families have promised not to intervene, correct?”
“Exactly! With this, our influence in the North will inevitably grow!”
“Hahaha, Baron Fenris has accomplished a significant feat. When the other lords learn of this, they’ll see that the Royal Faction isn’t entirely outclassed by the Ducal Families.”
The nobles expressed their delight, a stark contrast to their earlier hesitation to confront the Ducal Families.
Their primary concern had been whether the Ducal Families might intervene and escalate the conflict, or whether their investment in Baron Fenris and his loss in the North would diminish their influence.
But with the favorable outcome, the nobles of the Royal Faction regained a measure of confidence.
“Could it be that we’ve been too passive until now? The Ducal Faction nobles may have strong clout, but you never know until the cards are on the table, do you?”
“That’s right. Count Cabaldi’s reputation as a Northern powerhouse was clearly exaggerated; in the end, he wasn’t much to worry about.”
“Indeed, if Baron Fenris could win, perhaps we, too, had more of a chance. After all, the North isn’t all it’s made out to be, hahaha.”
Sharing cheerful smiles, the Royal Faction nobles exchanged pleasantries.
Baron Fenris’s victory bolstered their belief that they could stand against the Ducal Families.
Yet, observing their enthusiasm, the Marquis of Branford couldn’t hide his disdainful gaze.
Click, click. They’re already this giddy? Now is not the time to celebrate. How can they laugh so easily?
Reports had also arrived that Count Desmond had mobilized his forces. Had the Kingdom’s army not intervened early to block his movement, the situation could have spiraled out of control.
Thanks to the Marquis of Branford’s foresight, a full-blown war had been averted for now.
“Count Desmond is undoubtedly aligned with the Ducal Families. He’s been shamelessly brazen all this time.”
While suspicions had lingered for years, there was never concrete proof—until now.
Even this revelation was a significant gain. Knowing who the enemy was would greatly aid future strategies.
As evidenced by Count Desmond’s actions, the influence of the Ducal Families extended across the entire kingdom. Their reach was so pervasive that distinguishing allies from enemies was becoming increasingly difficult.
There was even the possibility of traitors lurking within the Royal Faction itself.
“Duke Delfine... If he’s brought Count Desmond into his fold, he’s clearly resolved to see this through to the end.”
The Marquis of Branford thought of Duke Delfine, his longtime friend and rival.
The Ducal Families wouldn’t remain idle—more specifically, Duke Delfine’s chief strategist, Raul, wouldn’t.
After all, Duke Delfine likely had no personal interest in Count Cabaldi to begin with.
‘Now that I think about it, I do wonder how he’s been.’
It had been over ten years since their last meeting.
Since then, the Duke hadn’t taken a single step outside his domain. He remained holed up in his ducal residence, completely reclusive.
As time went on, rumors began to spread that the Duke was nothing more than a figurehead, and Raul had seized all authority for himself.
However, the Marquis of Branford never believed such claims.
He knew better than anyone—having known Duke Delfine since their youth—that the man wasn’t someone who could be manipulated by anyone.
Even after more than ten years of friendship, followed by another ten years of rivalry, Branford still couldn’t fathom the Duke’s intentions for his self-imposed isolation.
However, he couldn’t forget their last encounter... the Duke’s indifferent yet strangely yearning gaze—a contradiction that lingered vividly in his memory.
Branford shook off his stray thoughts and organized his mind.
‘Well, maybe this is for the best.’
It was inevitable that the Ducal Families would eventually draw their swords. Until now, the Royal Faction had barely managed to keep them in check.
In this tense situation, Ghislain’s achievements had injected fresh momentum into the Royal Faction. Even the most timid nobles now carried a touch of newfound confidence.
Though overconfidence could be dangerous, it was far better to face a fight with courage than with fear.
‘Thanks to him, even the mood among us is changing. It’s not a bad development.’
With that thought, the Marquis found himself in an unusually good mood. Ever since becoming Ghislain’s patron, he had experienced emotions he hadn’t felt in years.
‘Still, that kid never ceases to amaze me. Gathering troops through such unconventional means was impressive enough, but to achieve victory in a siege this quickly? I’ll have to increase support if he requests anything more in the future.’
Branford closed his eyes, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
The Royal Faction nobles, who had been chattering away, immediately fell silent when they noticed his expression.
The Marquis of Branford hadn’t smiled even when his daughter had been cured. To see this ice-cold man smile because of Baron Fenris’s accomplishments was nothing short of astonishing.
Every noble in the room, filled with curiosity, stared at him for a long moment, marveling at the sight.