The Camp Chronicles (ii)

Duke Louis stood there, hidden from Micheal's view. He seemed contemplative to Drifter who stood near him.

Duke Louis: "You don't understand. Micheal wasn't meant for this." He paused, his voice lowering. "He unlocked his sword aura at five—unprecedented in Shelb history."

Drifter's eyes widened in surprise.

Drifter: "I always assumed that prodigy was one of your older sons. Ethan or Adrian."

Louis shook his head, his shoulders heavy with regret.

Duke Louis: "No. It was Micheal. He was our brightest hope... until we discovered his congenital heart condition. Every beat of his heart is a battle. He was never supposed to be here."

Drifter absorbed the revelation, his respect for Micheal shifting into something deeper.

Drifter (firmly): "Then that makes his determination all the more extraordinary. He's fighting not just for himself but against odds most recruits can't even fathom."

Louis's gaze lingered on his son, who was now laughing with Garrick after their match. Breeze yapped at Micheal's feet, attempting to join in the celebration. The scene brought a rare warmth to the Duke's heart, but it wasn't enough to dispel his fears.

Duke Louis (grimly): "This is no place for him. I'll bring him home."

Drifter's expression hardened.

Drifter: "If you take him now, Your Grace, it'll undo everything he's built here. Camaraderie doesn't grow overnight, and neither does confidence. You'd be robbing him of more than just training—you'd be taking away his chance to prove himself."

Louis turned to Drifter, his face a mask of conflicted emotions.

Duke Louis: "He's not just a recruit—he's my son. And if anything happens to him…"

The words hung in the air, unspoken but understood. Without waiting for a reply, Louis turned on his heel and strode back toward his carriage. Drifter watched him go, a rare flicker of sympathy crossing his usually stoic features.

Meanwhile, Micheal caught a glimpse of a retreating figure in the distance but shrugged it off, too engrossed in his newfound rhythm at the camp. As Breeze tugged at the hem of his trousers, Micheal laughed, oblivious to the storm brewing in his father's heart.

-----

The next day the morning chaos of the Armond camp had its usual rhythm—sparring soldiers, recruits hauling supplies, and the occasional argument over stolen snacks. But today, the camp's routine shattered with the arrival of an imperial carriage. Its polished exterior gleamed in the sunlight, and its horses moved with the elegance of well-bred beasts, their hooves barely touching the ground.

The soldiers froze mid-motion, stunned into silence. From the carriage stepped Magda Valoria von Shelb, her crimson eyes gleaming with purpose. Her black, wavy hair cascaded down her back in a restrained yet regal style. She bore a badge marking her as the "Consultant for Rune and Formation Reinforcement," but the soldiers barely registered the title. To them, she seemed otherworldly, more like a celestial figure than a royal mage. The faint shimmer of mana from her insignia added to her mystique, making her seem untouchable.

As she approached the command tent, the soldiers couldn't help but stare.

Soldier #1 (awed, whispering): "She's like an angel descended from the heavens."

Soldier #2: "Do you think she's married?"

Soldier #3 (grinning): "If she's not, I'm volunteering."

Senior Soldier (rolling his eyes): "Keep dreaming, idiots. She's here on official business."

A burly soldier smacked them on the back of the heads, muttering about propriety, but the men barely noticed, their eyes still fixed on Magda.

Drifter stood near the command post, arms crossed as he observed the chaos. He had been briefed about the visit but hadn't expected this level of distraction.

Drifter (muttering under his breath): "First the Duke, now the Princess. What's next, the Emperor himself?"

Aide (grinning): "Careful, sir. Talk of the devil, and he might just appear."

At time point of time if Drifter had known how true his Aide's words would be in the future, he would've cried.

-----

In the Rowdy Barracks, Claude burst in, his fox ears twitching with excitement.

Claude: "Boys, guess what? An imperial mage is here. Royal badge and everything. And she's stunning—black hair, red eyes, the whole package."

The soldiers perked up, their chatter immediately shifting to the topic of the mysterious visitor.

Soldier #1: "A royal mage? What's she doing in Armond's camp?"

Claude: "Official business, obviously. But I swear, she's like a goddess."

Soldier #2: "Sounds like someone's got a crush."

Claude: "Hey, I've got standards! But if she needs a bodyguard…"

Micheal, seated in a corner fixing a torn strap on Garrick's chest armor, remained quiet. But the moment Claude mentioned crimson eyes, Micheal's hands froze. He accidentally dropped the heavy armor drawing Claude's attention.

Claude (narrowing his eyes): "Wait… do you know her?"

Micheal (looking away, flustered): "No. Why would I?"

Claude (grinning): "Oh, you definitely know her. Boys, I think our Merchant Prince has a crush!"

The barracks erupted into laughter.

Soldier #3: "No wonder he's fixing that rugged manbun. Trying to look like a romantic hero?"

Micheal (deadpan): "Keep talking, and I'll stop fixing your gear."

Claude (mock gasping): "Not our gear, oh mighty fixer! Have mercy!"

Despite the teasing, Micheal kept his head down, hoping the conversation would die quickly. But inside, he was anything but calm.

Micheal (to himself): "She's here. What do I even say? 'Hi, remember me, your husband who couldn't call you back?'"

-----

At the center of the camp, Edran, the senior mage of Armond, stood by the protective formations. He was a tall man with sharp features and an aura of quiet competence. He greeted Magda with a formal bow.

Edran: "Your Highness, welcome to Armond's camp. These formations have been carefully maintained to repel beasts and weaken stronger threats. The aura nodes are reinforced weekly to ensure stability."

Magda knelt by one of the glowing glyphs, her fingers tracing the intricate lines of the runes.

Magda: "The layering is efficient, but the distribution is uneven. This creates blind spots that could be exploited by faster or more intelligent beasts. May I?"

Edran nodded, curious. Magda adjusted the frequency of the aura flow, her crimson eyes glowing faintly as she infused the runes with her mana. The lines brightened and began to spread more evenly across the formation.

Edran (impressed): "A remarkable adjustment, Your Highness. With this modification, the formations will require less maintenance and provide stronger coverage."

Magda (smiling): "A small improvement, but one that could make a difference."

Drifter, observing from a distance, sighed yet again.

Drifter (to himself): "Now she's fixing our formations. At this rate, I'll need to request royal quarters. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if the Duchess herself showed up next."

One of his aides chuckled.

Aide: "You have to admit, sir, she's impressive."

Drifter: "She's trouble. The kind of trouble that attracts more trouble. Mark my words, if the Emperor shows up next, I'm resigning."

-----

The soldiers who had been gawking nearby couldn't contain their admiration.

Soldier #1: "She's not just gorgeous—she's a genius."

Soldier #2: "Definitely out of our league."

Magda, having finished her adjustments, turned to Edran.

Magda: "The adjustments should hold, but I'd recommend reinforcing the central nodes with triple-layered runes. That should ensure durability during beast tides."

Edran nodded, clearly impressed.

Edran: "Thank you, Your Highness. Your expertise is greatly appreciated."

As Magda walked away, the soldiers stood straighter, inspired by her presence. Drifter, however, looked like he could use a drink—or ten.

Back in the barracks, Micheal sat with Breeze curled up at his feet. He adjusted his manbun, which had come loose during the day's chaos.

Micheal (to himself): "She's here. What now? Do I just avoid her? No, that's cowardly. But what if she's angry I didn't call?"

Breeze yawned, oblivious to his master's turmoil, as Micheal sighed deeply, bracing himself for whatever the next day would bring.

The evening sun cast a warm glow over the Rowdy Barracks as the recruits returned from training, their chatter blending with the clatter of equipment. Micheal, his messy manbun barely holding together after the day's drills, stood near the entrance, adjusting the straps of his improvised armor. His shining blue eyes, tired yet sharp, scanned the yard absentmindedly as he cradled Breeze in his arms.

Breeze wiggled free suddenly, its sharp nose twitching at an unfamiliar yet familiar scent. Micheal didn't notice at first, distracted by the day's exhaustion. The intelligent little wind-dog darted forward, weaving through boots and gear with surprising agility.

Micheal (startled): "Breeze! Where are you going now?"

The wind-dog bolted straight toward a group of figures entering the camp. Among them was Magda, her off-white robes catching the light, the imperial insignia on her chest subtly gleaming. Her crimson eyes, scanning the area with calm authority, contrasted with her serene demeanor.

But Breeze wasn't drawn to Magda herself—it was her mana. The wind-dog's sharp instincts had picked up on the mana signature emanating from Magda. It was identical to the pendant Micheal cherished, the very one that never left his person. The pendant, a token of love crafted by the Emperor for the late Empress, radiated a unique warmth that Breeze found irresistible. It had learned quickly that Micheal drew a hard line when it came to the pendant.

The little wind-dog had learned early on that Micheal was fiercely protective of the object. While it was always surrounded by a comforting aura of warmth and mana, any attempt by Breeze to paw at or chew on it had been met with stern reprimands. Micheal, otherwise patient, had made it clear that the pendant was off-limits, in fact the only time Micheal had ever raised his voice against Breeze was when Breeze touched his pendant.

Despite its intelligence, Breeze couldn't resist the pull of the pendant. Now, sensing the same mana signature radiating from Magda, it was determined to investigate.

Breeze darted straight toward her.

Micheal (panicking): "No, Breeze! Stop!"

But it was too late.

The tiny beast skidded to a halt directly in front of Magda, sniffing at her robes and yipping excitedly. Magda froze, her crimson eyes widening in sheer terror.

Magda (stammering): "What... what is that thing?!"

She stepped back, clutching Calista's arm for support, her composure unraveling.

Magda (voice trembling): "Get it away from me!"

Micheal, who had been frozen in shock the moment he recognized Magda, finally snapped out of his daze.

Micheal (rushing forward): "Breeze, stop it!"

He scooped up the little wind-dog, who squirmed in his arms, still trying to reach Magda.

Calista, holding Magda steady, sighed as she tried to calm her.

Calista (soothingly): "Your Highness, it's just a puppy. It won't hurt you."

Magda (still shaking): "That doesn't make it any less terrifying!"

Edran, his expression stern, turned to Micheal.

Edran: "Recruit von Shelb! Control your beast before it causes more chaos."

Micheal (flustered): "I... I didn't know she was scared of dogs. I'm so sorry!"

He held Breeze tighter, the little pup whining in protest and casting forlorn glances at Magda.

Claude, leaning casually against the barracks door, couldn't resist throwing in a comment.

Claude (grinning): "Leave it to the Prince to terrify the lady with his chaos beast."

Micheal glared at him but didn't respond, too preoccupied with keeping Breeze still.

Magda, her composure slowly returning, gave Micheal a long, unreadable look. Her crimson eyes softened slightly, but her trembling hands betrayed her lingering fear.

Calista (disappointed): "Your Highness, I had no idea you were afraid of dogs. I wish you had mentioned this earlier."

Magda (sighing): "It's not something I'm proud of."

As the recruits in the barracks began whispering among themselves, Micheal tried to contain the situation.

Soldier #1 (whispering): "Who is she? She's got a royal air about her."

Soldier #2 (grinning): "And she's scared of a puppy?"

Micheal, his ears turning red, glared at the group.

Micheal: "Show some respect. She's a princess, for Emperor's sake."

The whispers stopped abruptly.

Soldier #1 (blinking): "Princess?"

Soldier #3 (stammering): "Wait... like... the Princess?"

Claude's jaw dropped as he looked between Micheal and Magda.

Claude: "You're telling me she's a princess?!"

Magda sighed, clearly annoyed.

Magda: "There's no need for all this formality. I'm here as a Mage Tower representative, nothing more."

Despite her protests, the recruits' behavior shifted immediately. They straightened up, their casual demeanor replaced with awkward attempts at respect.

Soldier #2 (nervously): "Your Highness... uh, I mean, ma'am, your robes look very... clean."

Claude (muttering): "Real smooth, mate."

Micheal, meanwhile, was visibly annoyed by their sudden fascination with her. He could already see the wheels turning in Claude's head, and it irritated him to no end.

Claude (teasingly, whispering to Micheal): "So, Prince, care to explain why the royal mage looks at you like you've got secrets?"

Micheal ignored the question, too busy calming Breeze, who kept glancing longingly at Magda ready to pounce on her given a chance.

Edran cleared his throat, trying to bring some semblance of order back to the situation.

Edran: "Your Highness, if you're ready, we should continue the inspection. Recruit von Shelb, make sure that beast stays confined."

Micheal nodded, still holding the wriggling pup.

Micheal: "Yes, sir. Breeze will stay out of trouble."

As Magda and her group moved away, Claude leaned closer to Micheal again, his grin widening.

Claude (whispering): "So, Prince, care to explain why the royal mage looks at you like you've got secrets?"

Micheal shot him a warning look.

Micheal: "No. I don't. Now drop it."

Claude chuckled but didn't press further, though his curious gaze lingered on Micheal.

Meanwhile, Breeze let out a small whine, its intelligent eyes darting between Micheal and Magda.

Micheal sighed, rubbing his temples.

Micheal (to Breeze, muttering): "You're going to be the end of me, you little troublemaker."