Chapter 433: We'll Have to Use Threats Like Last Time. (3)

Dark, clutching Ghislain's letter, transformed into a raven and vanished into the distance.

Immediately, Ghislain gave orders to his subordinates.

"The Northern Army won't make it in time if we all move together. So, we'll send only the Fenris cavalry to the Northern Fortress."

The Northern Army was stationed on the western edge of the kingdom, having moved there after dealing with the central regions. The eastern region was temporarily being handled by the royal forces and local lords.

To reach Kaipilar Fortress, they would need to cut through the western region, but the Northern Army, being primarily infantry, was too slow. Only the cavalry, with their exceptional speed, could arrive in time.

Gillian, his expression marked with concern, spoke up.

"This is a rift that's expanded unnoticed, consuming the vast northern plains. The number of Riftborn will be staggering."

"Yes, you're right. By my estimate..."

Ghislain tilted his head slightly, calculating, and continued.

"There'll be around 500,000 of them."

"...."

Everyone's expressions hardened.

Riftborn were individually more powerful than regular soldiers. To face 500,000 of such monsters was nothing short of terrifying.

Yet Ghislain, unfazed, replied calmly.

"Don't worry. Their numbers may be overwhelming, but we'll have the fortress on our side. They're mindless beasts that only charge. As long as we have enough time, we can deal with them all."

In truth, the greatest threat was the Equidema. The Fenris forces' overwhelming firepower could handle the Riftborn, but the issue was how long it would take.

If dealing with the rift was the only task, there wouldn't be so much concern. After all, they were rift-elimination specialists.

Still, Gillian voiced his unease.

"What if the cavalry arrives first to hold the line while the Northern Army follows to reinforce? Meanwhile, the barbarians won't sit idly by."

"Yes, they must've allied with the Salvation Church to create the rift. It's likely they've united all the tribes."

The barbarians, having staked everything on this campaign, would undoubtedly muster tens of thousands of warriors.

Ghislain deliberated briefly before shaking his head.

"No matter how I look at it, the timing won't work. By the time the Northern Army arrives, we'll either have won or been wiped out."

"Even if they can't join the rift battle in time, the Northern Army could still counter the barbarian horde. Fenris alone can't handle both fronts."

Fighting 500,000 Riftborn required not only the cavalry but also the 10,000 Fenris troops stationed in the territory.

If the Fenris troops were left behind, they wouldn't be enough to counter the barbarian horde. At best, they could defend Fenris itself.

Meanwhile, the barbarians would pillage the defenseless northern lands.

The Northern Army's total strength had already been mobilized, leaving the royal army to hold the southern and eastern frontlines.

This meant the barbarians would need to be stopped at the northern entrance, but there weren't enough troops to do so in time.

Ghislain let out a soft laugh and responded.

"They're trying to shake us, but it's fine. Someone else will deal with the barbarians while we take care of the rift."

"What? Who...?"

Gillian, puzzled, then seemed to recall something.

"Surely not...!"

"Yes, that 'surely.'"

"Will they actually help? There's no reason for them to take such a loss. Their reputation says they'd never do it..."

"Which is exactly why they will. They hate losing more than anything."

Ghislain was confident. If this person didn't intervene now, it would hinder their own ambitions, leaving them no choice but to grudgingly comply with Ghislain's request.

"Regardless, pulling the Northern Army back is meaningless. We're better off focusing on what we can do. Tenant."

"Yes."

"The Fenris troops will head to the Northern Fortress. In the meantime, lead the Northern Army to hold the line against the rift. Can you handle that?"

"Understood."

Tenant had already proven himself by holding back a rift in Ghislain's stead. While he couldn't defeat an Equidema, he could certainly contain the Riftborn.

At that moment, a messenger arrived, sent by Claude.

"The remaining Fenris troops and equipment have been dispatched to the Northern Fortress. This is a letter from the Head butler."

The letter was filled with exaggerated complaints:

[If the fortress falls, we're all doomed. We have no troops left. You need to handle the rift and stop the barbarians as soon as possible. I even packed up to flee, but Wendy…]

Reading it, Ghislain chuckled softly.

"He's already taken care of it before I even asked."

Claude had anticipated Ghislain's next move and acted accordingly, sending reinforcements immediately.

Say what you will—Claude was undoubtedly competent.

Mounting black king, Ghislain raised his voice.

"Perdium is in danger! Ride at full speed!"

The cavalry, already aware of the peril, didn't hesitate to embark on a grueling forced march.

They knew that if Perdium fell, Fenris would be next. Many among the cavalry were from Perdium themselves, determined to protect their homeland.

And so, Ghislain and the cavalry raced toward the Northern Fortress.

Watching him leave in such a hurry, Rozalin sighed deeply.

"Sigh... Take care of yourself."

Was there anyone busier than Ghislain in this kingdom? Probably not. Without him, this chaotic era would have no chance of resolution.

Once again, she couldn't muster the energy to voice her frustration.

She simply gazed at Ghislain's retreating figure, as she had done so many times before.

***

Amelia sat in her chair, biting her lip.

The sudden appearance of the rift, now encroaching on the Northern Fortress, combined with the movement of the barbarian horde, painted a clear picture in her mind.

"Raul's handiwork."

By allying with the Salvation Church, he must have provoked the barbarians into action.

The timing was impeccable.

"If the rift is left unchecked, it'll grow too massive to contain."

Abandoning the Northern Fortress and retreating was an option, but they would still have to face the barbarians eventually.

Fighting the barbarians while the rift continued to expand would only lead to more enemies and destruction. Perdium itself might eventually fall within the rift zone.

Ghislain and Zwalter, who despised seeing their people suffer, would try to avoid such an outcome at all costs.

Of course, if the situation became untenable, retreat would be the only option. It was the least damaging alternative.

But the best solution...

"It would be for me to act."

If Ghislain handled the rift, Amelia could deal with the barbarians. That would yield the best results.

The problem was... she didn't want to.

"...Why should I?"

Helping Ghislain was the last thing she wanted. He was, after all, her ultimate adversary.

But she hesitated for one reason.

"He hasn't fought with the Duke faction yet."

The more damage Fenris suffered, the better for the Duke faction. And the Duke forces remained fully intact.

To eventually confront the Duke faction, Amelia needed both Ghislain and the Northern Army to weaken them.

The Royalist faction alone couldn't counter the Duke's power. They needed Ghislain and the Northern forces to succeed.

If the Northern forces lost their momentum now, it would ruin Amelia's carefully laid plans.

"Sigh..."

Pressing a hand to her forehead, Amelia contemplated her next move.

If she left things as they were, Raul's scheme would play out as intended.

That, in itself, was infuriating.

Yet the thought of sacrificing her own forces to help Fenris was equally distasteful.

"Tch, what a mess."

She didn't particularly care if the barbarians ravaged the north. She could handle them herself or even relocate her base of operations.

But she couldn't allow the Duke faction to remain unscathed. She knew all too well how dangerous their power was.

A raven suddenly flew into Amelia's hall as she mulled over whether to aid Fenris.

Whoosh!

The raven, hurtling toward Amelia, was promptly caught mid-air by Bernaph's hand.

"Caw! Let me go! How dare you! Do you even know who I am to handle me so carelessly?"

"What is this?"

As Dark squawked indignantly, Bernaph stared at him with astonishment. A talking raven was a first for him.

"Wait... is this...?"

After Rodrick's army invaded the north, rumors spread like wildfire about Fenris. One particular tale claimed that Ghislain commanded a spirit. Many soldiers had seen Dark transform into a raven, making it impossible for such rumors not to spread.

"Are you the spirit from the rumors? The one said to be under the control of Count Fenris?"

"That's right! I am the mighty Spirit King! Release me at once, or I'll curse you!"

"Why does that territory have so many self-proclaimed kings? And why are they all rude and weird? So, you can cast curses too, huh? Is that true?"

Bernaph, genuinely curious, asked innocently. Dark growled in response.

"Of course! My power will consume your soul! Celestial beings will descend upon you, tearing you apart, while the denizens of the earth drag you into fire pits—"

Before Dark could finish his tirade, a cold voice cut him off.

"Noisy creature. Bring it here."

At Amelia's command, Bernaph carried Dark closer, still holding him firmly. Seeing Amelia, Dark's eyes glinted.

"You must be Amelia! I am here to deliver a message from Count Fenris!"

Amelia responded indifferently.

"You're as insolent as your master, I see."

"I am a being of greatness! Accept Count Fenris's will immediately!"

"I refuse."

"What?"

"Judging by your demeanor, whatever you have to say will irritate me. That man always does. I decline, whatever it is."

"Well... that may be true, but still..."

"Whatever you're here for, my answer is no. Now leave. I have no intention of listening to an insolent messenger. Tell Ghislain that."

"Huh?"

Dark blinked in shock. He was used to people groveling or treating him with excessive respect because of Ghislain. Such a curt reaction left him utterly flustered.

"But... I must deliver this message! Fine! Just take it!"

Regardless of the response, delivering the message was his priority. However, something moved even faster than him.

Meow!

Bastet, who had been lounging on Amelia's lap, leapt onto Bernaph's arm. Without hesitation, she launched a cat punch square at Dark's face.

Thwack!

"Ack! What is this beast?!"

Dark screeched in surprise, but Bastet didn't stop.

Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!

The lightning-fast punches left Dark reeling, unable to comprehend what was happening.

"Stop! Ow! I'm trying to talk! Ow! I have a message to deliver! Ow! This wretched cat!"

Meow!

Dark wailed as Bastet pummeled him relentlessly. Such treatment was something he hadn't experienced since meeting Ghislain.

Sharing consciousness with Ghislain allowed him to perceive sensations, albeit dulled. While the punches weren't overly painful, their rapid succession disoriented him completely.

"Wait! The Count! Ow! Wants you! Ow! To lead your army! Ow!"

Dark struggled to speak amidst the relentless onslaught. Bastet gave him no room to breathe, her punches ceaseless.

Meow!

Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!

Dark grimaced as he thought to himself.

'These insolent fools! But what if she blames me for this and refuses to act?'

Dark knew better than anyone how dire the situation was. Living within Ghislain's consciousness made him acutely aware of the stakes. His sole task was to deliver the letter and ensure Amelia's cooperation. If she refused because of his behavior, Ghislain's wrath would be inescapable.

The thought sent chills down his spine.

'No! Amelia has to stop the barbarians!'

For the first time, Dark realized not everyone bent to Ghislain's will. The world outside Ghislain's shadow was harsher than he had imagined.

Reluctantly, Dark mustered the strength to speak humbly, even as Bastet continued to batter him.

"Lady Countess! Ow! Please! Ow! Just listen! Ow! I beg you!"

For the second time in his existence, the arrogant spirit humbled himself, learning respect through sheer force.

Meow!

Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow!

"Ouch! Stop! Enough of the violence!"

"Enough, Bastet," Amelia commanded.

At her words, Bastet halted the assault. Dark, humiliated, hung his head low.

'Curse that wretched cat! One day, I'll curse it to oblivion!'

Amelia, now intrigued, gestured toward Dark.

"Where's the letter?"

"Here it is... urk..."

From Dark's mouth emerged the letter. His mana-based form allowed him to store items internally.

"..."

Bernaph picked up the letter delicately between his fingertips, shaking it off thoroughly before handing it to Amelia.

As Amelia frowned, Dark hurriedly defended himself.

"He was holding me so tightly, what else could I do!"

To keep the letter safe, Dark always stored it inside his body.

But with Bernaph gripping him so firmly, there were only two options: retrieve it through his mouth or... from the other end. Dark, however, wasn't clueless enough to choose the latter.

If he had pulled it from there, letter or not, he'd have been thrown out on the spot.

Suppressing a look of disgust, Amelia took the letter and began to read it.

Her face grew noticeably colder as she unfolded it.

"That bastard..."

As expected, the letter was full of threats.

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