novelraw Chapter 354: Childhood Friends - Firestorm
Chapter 354: Childhood Friends - Firestorm
353. Childhood Friends - Firestorm
“How is it that Sir Rev always knows where I am? It’s remarkable.”
Prince Vivian asked as he sat against the dirt wall of the trench, reviewing his battle plans.
Gone were the regal garments of a prince. He now wore a ragged military uniform, fully embodying a field commander.
Despite moving his quarters every two days through the maze-like trenches, Sir Rev somehow always managed to find him with uncanny precision.
Rev shrugged nonchalantly.
“Because I’m still just a freeloader wasting food, so I have plenty of time.”
“Hahaha!”
The prince laughed heartily, free of malice.
There was always a sense of reassuring composure around this man, and whenever they spoke, the weariness of life in the trenches would momentarily fade.Vivian enjoyed this feeling. Every time Sir Rev came by, he brewed tea himself and shared a tea break with him. Today, even Marquis Maxinus, who often accompanied the prince, had joined them.
“How’s the battlefront?”
“Not bad. It’s slow, but we’re pushing them back bit by bit. It’s thanks to our large number of mages.”
“That’s good to hear. And what about the issue you were concerned about earlier? You said the Bellita Kingdom’s 2nd Knight Order had arrived.”
“We managed to hold them off. Distributing large shields to the soldiers was key. It’s ironic... Tactics from ancient times have come full circle to prove useful again. War is truly unpredictable.”
“Do you have any regrets? About being the one who devised trench warfare?”
Prince Vivian smiled faintly but didn’t answer. Instead, Marquis Maxinus chuckled, revealing what the prince was truly feeling.
“Pffft! Now that the supply issue is solved, it’s too late for regrets. We received a message from Baron Trudi — negotiations with Prince Lean went well. This means we’ll be able to drag out this war for quite a while.”
“...Prince Lean de Yeriel? What sort of negotiations did he have with our prince?”
Marquis Maxinus glanced at Vivian, gauging his reaction. The prince’s expression indicated that it was okay to answer. After all, this person was from the Conrad Kingdom.
“It’s classified information. Your prince was down in the southern borderlands, playing both sides between our kingdom and the Bellita Kingdom over arms sales. But Baron Trudi pulled it off. It was a foregone conclusion, to be honest.”
“...Baron Trudi has done something monumental. I hope His Highness the Prince will not downplay his contribution.”
Baron Trudi was one of Prince Vivian’s closest aides. It was clear the prince was trying to boost his retainer’s reputation, but Maxinus, being a blunt man, responded candidly.
“I’m not downplaying it. I’m just saying the opponent was too easy. Marquis Benar Tatian, who’s been a bystander in this war, stepped in as a competitor in the arms auction... Hahaha, if Count Herman Forte finds out about this, he’ll be so furious he might collapse from a rage-induced illness.”
“...Ah.”
But Rev gleaned something different from Maxinus’s words.
He had been curious about how Prince Lean managed to lure Marquis Tatian into a meeting. Turns out, this was the bait.
Marquis Benar Tatian had always been interested in border regions.
He wanted to expand trade routes, so he extended his reach into the borderlands shared by the Bellita, Conrad, and Aisel Kingdoms.
This was also why Marquis Tatian cozied up to Count Gustav Peter, who was particularly influential in these borderlands.
Coincidentally, Count Peter was also the same person known as Baron Monarch on the Conrad Kingdom’s side. Simply by aligning himself with Count Peter, Tatian could establish smuggling routes between Bellita and Conrad.
Meanwhile, Baron Trudi’s family controlled lands on the Aisel Kingdom’s side of the three-nation border. Without the Trudi family, Tatian's ambitions would be incomplete. Lean had lured him in with arms sales as bait, and Tatian had likely given up on the arms in favor of winning over Baron Trudi.
He had probably tried to sweet-talk Baron Trudi while flaunting his generosity.
Such was the nature of war.
It was crucial to win battles with sharp strategy and valor on the field, but what happened behind the scenes — in the political arena — was just as vital.
This was why generals on the battlefield had to constantly keep one eye on the rear. Rev, having observed the flow of events, asked softly.
“How about our side? Has Duke Kyrgyz been quiet?”
For a moment, unease flickered in Maxinus’s expression.
Maxinus stayed silent, but Prince Vivian, looking a bit concerned, answered.
“Prince Eric de Yeriel has somehow gained control of the Kyrgyz family. Oscar de Isadora has renounced his claim to the throne as well. It’s bad news for me.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I had hoped to achieve enough results in this war to make my case to the Imperial Council. But now Prince Eric says he’ll send reinforcements. Starting this trench warfare... has backfired on me. Once reinforcements arrive and they start pushing the front line, I’ll have to share the credit.”
It was already too late to end the war before reinforcements arrived.
Rev quietly laughed to himself.
This was exactly what he had anticipated when he handed Princess Iina’s necklace over to Eric.
The necklace contained the royal seal of the previous queen, which allowed Eric to amend the Golden Charter of Cornius. Naturally, Prince Eric’s influence skyrocketed. Entering the race for succession late, he was desperate for achievements to back his claim.
And now, he was rushing to put his "spoon" into this war.
But why had Prince Oscar so easily given up his claim to the throne?
That part was unexpected, but in the end, things were playing out in Rev's favor.
Feeling quite pleased with himself, Rev maintained a somber expression as he spoke up.
“Count Herman Forte has arrived. Don’t ask me how I know, but I need you to lend me 15 knights.”
“...For what purpose?”
Sip.
“I’m going on patrol. It’s too much to handle alone. If you could send them to the barracks today, I’d be grateful.”
Rev left.
Maxinus stared at the empty teacup Rev had left behind and muttered,
“That man is strange.”
“I agree.”
The prince nodded.
***
“Let’s move.”
On the first night of the lunar calendar, Count Herman Forte and 15 knights melted into the darkness.
The count had been waiting for this very day, a "dark moon" night with no moonlight.
No moonlight meant darkness, but more than that, it also meant no "mana tide" from the moon. The atmosphere was empty of ambient mana.
With no mana in the air, enemy mages, who had been hurling magic all day, had already gone home.
Count Forte and his knights circled far around the maze-like trenches and infiltrated deep into enemy territory.
Their target: the barracks.
From Forte’s perspective, this war had taken on the form of attritional warfare. The barracks, which continuously transformed wounded soldiers back into combatants, was a priority target.
“Who... who's th—Mmph!”
Suddenly, two knights darted to the left, ambushing a small trench.
The enemy soldiers inside didn’t even have time to signal for help before they were subdued. Being so far behind the front line, they had clearly let their guard down.
“Well done. How much farther?”
“At this pace, we should reach it in one ‘shik’ (approx. 30 minutes). If the mage’s information is correct.”
“If it was seen through ‘Cloud Eyes,’ it should be accurate. Let’s take a short break, then move.”
“What about these guys?”
“Kill them. No, wait. Kill that one. Bring the other here.”
The sound of a neck snapping echoed in the darkness.
The captured soldier was trembling as he was dragged in front of the towering Count Forte.
“Answer me honestly, and I won’t kill you. Understood? Good. Just one question — where’s your barracks?”
The soldier, gagged, frantically pointed.
But it wasn’t the same direction Count Forte had been told.
“This is different from the mage's report. What do you all think?”
“It’s probably correct. The ‘Cloud Eyes’ spell views from above, which makes it easy to deceive.”
“I see. Then we'll go that way. As for this one…”
Count Forte glanced at the soldier.
“Kill him.”
What was he expecting?
The soldier's eyes widened in desperation as he tried to plead through his gag. Moments later, his neck snapped, and everything went silent.
He had mentioned having a wife waiting for him.
While seated on the narrow, dirt floor of the trench, taking a brief rest, Count Herman Forte thought of his ex-wife.
Iina.
When I was young, I was arrogant, even by my own standards. At the age of 13, I had defeated a knight in battle. By the time I reached adulthood, there was no one but my father who could still teach me. I strutted about like I owned the world, reveling in my own self-importance.
It was Iina who taught me humility — and tamed me.
To be honest, when I married her, it wasn’t out of love. I was simply proud of myself for marrying a princess from a neighboring kingdom.
Of course, the strongest swordsman should have a beautiful, high-born lady as his wife.
But there was a flaw.
She was a pretty, youthful princess, but without her glasses, she was practically blind and couldn’t even recognize me. On the eve of our wedding, I was furious about having to marry a "defective" bride, and I ended up doing something cruel to her.
“Kyaa! Wh-who’s there?! Is someone there?!”
I had dismissed her maids and tripped her. The poor princess fell with a thud and, while groping around for her glasses, pleaded for help. She looked so pitiful.
But...
“What good is getting married if you can't even see your husband? Go home.”
“...It’s you, isn’t it, Sir Herman? Return my glasses, please.”
“I’ll give them back if you promise to annul the marriage yourself and go home.”
I was insufferably arrogant back then. I thought if I humiliated her enough, she would act on her own.
But Iina’s reaction was unexpected.
With her small, delicate frame, she took a deep breath to calm herself. Abandoning her search for her glasses, she groped around, sat upright, and adjusted her clothes.
“...Do you think if you sit like that, someone will come to help you?”
Her unyielding grace threw me off a bit.
It wasn’t something a girl her age should have been capable of. Even if she couldn’t see, her nobility was undeniable.
“I am the woman who will be your wife. Please show some respect.”
“...Ha! And why should I? Why should I show respect to a blind little girl like you? Besides, the House of Isadora is just some backwater house from the eastern frontier. Shouldn't you be crawling and groveling after entering Orville, the eternal capital of the continent since the time of the Arcaea Empire?”
She must have been a little angry at that point. Iina Isadora grasped her necklace tightly.
“The glory of the Arcaea Empire is not yours alone.”
Her necklace glowed brilliantly, the light radiating in all directions.
The glow revealed a crimson seal — the imperial seal of the Arcaea Empire, long thought to be lost in legend. It was said to be usable only by those of imperial blood.
After that, we were married.
The disgraceful incident I caused that day was never mentioned again, as if Iina had silently allowed it to be forgotten.
But after our son, Gilbert, was born, and she placed him in my arms, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.
I confessed.
“I was a fool back then. Do you think I could still be forgiven?”
My wife… no, Iina Forte said plainly,
“No.”
She said she had fulfilled her duty as a wife by giving me a son.
She admitted that part of her wanted to reclaim her family name.
“If you want to use the House of Isadora's name, then do so. Why hold back?”
“Because I thought I might be able to love you.”
“...!”
“I’m joking.” She smiled slyly. “I just wanted you to help House Isadora. We’re always at odds with the Kyrgyz Ducal House. Honestly, if I had taken the throne, we wouldn’t have had this problem… but my mother never wanted that.”
With our shared treasure, our son Gilbert, between us, Iina revealed a story she had kept hidden.
She was of pure imperial descent from the Arcaea bloodline.
Her mother had tried to end the obsession with imperial brides that had driven countless noble families to madness. The Kingdom of Aisel had a habit of taking in women with blonde hair, golden eyes, or anything remotely "golden" to make them concubines, all to claim ties to the Arcaea bloodline.
Iina’s mother, the former queen of Aisel, did not want to see her daughter get caught in that madness. She placed the imperial seal in Iina’s tiny hands and dropped depare juice into her eyes, blinding her temporarily, so that she wouldn’t look back.
She told her daughter to never return.
And so, Iina was married off to the Kingdom of Bellita, bringing the imperial seal with her.
“If only you would love me without expecting conditions in return. If I can’t have forgiveness, then I’ll settle for love.”
Iina only smiled and didn’t answer.
I thought her silence was her answer, but I would realize, ten years later, that I was wrong.
It was around the time King Karoman de Tatalia ascended the throne, and I had become a Swordmaster. I had shut myself inside the royal palace, deeply entangled in political affairs, and neglected my wife and son.
Disillusioned, Iina declared she was leaving me.
She returned to her family.
Did she ever love me? Did I love her?
Those questions lingered in Count Herman Forte's heart for a long time.
So when Iina came to Orville with Prince Vivian de Isadora, I hurried out to meet her.
Maybe she still loved me.
And I, who had neglected her for so long, loved her without a doubt.
But Iina...
“Would you have any advice to offer? For example, about what Princess Chloe likes...”
She only seemed interested in helping Prince Vivian. Her sole reason for coming was to negotiate an engagement between Princess Chloe and the prince.
Nothing had changed.
Her indifference stung.
When no one else was around, I vented my frustration.
“Did you come back for this again? I’m sick of it. You royal bloodlines only know how to beg and use people!”
“That’s right! I came to beg! But what have you ever done for the House of Isadora?! You don’t come home, you ignore me when I speak, and you act like a madman!”
“You think I want to be like this?! I hate it too, but I’m always on edge, feeling like something terrible will happen—”
“Again with that ‘unease’ excuse! Fine! I was a fool for asking. I’ll never ask for your help again, so don’t worry—”
“Both of you, STOP IT!!”
Their son, Gilbert, stood between them, trembling with emotion.
“I’m just happy you’re both here together. Can’t you talk without fighting for just one day? Is that really so hard?”
Their grown son was trembling.
Iina looked away, ashamed. Herman Forte clasped his hands behind his back, awkward and speechless.
That night, thanks to their son, they sat down as a family. Iina visited the Forte estate for the first time in years.
They ate together and spoke freely about things they hadn’t been able to share.
“I heard our son is quite the womanizer, even over in the Aisel Kingdom.”
“Ah, no, that’s not true! They must be mistaken!”
“I’ve had to clean up his messes, you know. My back is aching from it.”
“Whose fault do you think that is? He’s exactly like you. When you were young... oh, don’t get me started.”
“...Ahem.”
It was a good day.
The next day.
And the day after that.
At least, until the day Princess Chloe kissed their son.
Feeling a surge of anger, Count Herman Forte stood up.
He gathered his knights and resumed his mission.
But after crossing a few more trenches, he heard a familiar voice.
“Father!”
It was Gilbert.
Surrounding him were 16 knights.
One of them was visibly no ordinary knight.
A trap?
Then, that idiot opened his mouth.
“Father! Stop the war! I’ll help! Mother said—”
Disgust surged within Count Forte, choking him.
He felt like he was going to collapse from rage.
No.
He was already consumed by it.
His sword erupted in white flames.