Chapter 317: Chapter 78
Richard Breston’s large, piercing eyes scanned the crowd of soldiers. He haughtily passed his helmet to the knight mounted behind him and hopped off his warhorse.
Maxi tugged her hood lower as he walked up to Sejuleu Aren. The man held a deep animosity toward Riftan, and the last thing she wanted was to start an altercation by catching his eye. She furtively began gathering her tools.
“They’re all so big,” said Anette, her voice tinged with fear. “They certainly give that carrot-haired knight a run for his money. I don’t think I will ever be able to call you a giant again.” “Th-They say…. the people of the north are descended from seraphim. A messenger of heaven… sired a child with a human woman a long time ago… and the Baltonians are supposedly that child’s descendants.” “They look more half-ogre to me. They’re practically giants.”
Maxi sneaked a glance at the Baltonian men. Indeed, the Knights of Phil Aaron looked nothing like the heralds of God. Wolf pelts covered their reddish-black armor, and their backs bristled with heavy swords, battle axes, and iron maces. They appeared closer to ancient barbarian warriors than knights.
Her face clouded as she recalled how belligerent these men had been in the past. What would happen to the unity of the coalition army now that they had joined?
“There you are, my lady.”
Maxi looked over her shoulder at the familiar voice.
Ulyseon strode toward her, his long legs making quick work of the distance. I le regarded her with concern as he approached.
…..
“I rushed to find you as soon as 1 saw the Phil Aaron banner. 1 was worried those northern pigs would try to harass you again.” “I-I was just about to leave. 1 would rather… steer clear of them if possible.” “Of course, my lady. Allow me to carry those for you,” he said, taking the drake bone from her hands.
Maxi searched the training grounds. “Do you know where Riftan—” “Well, well, look who we have here,” came a gruff voice. “If it isn’t the white lizard’s pup.”
Flinching, Maxi looked behind her. Richard Breston, who had been talking with Sejuleu Aren by the gate moments ago, was now swaggering toward them. He was likely coming to pick a fight after recognizing the Remdragon armor. He halted in front of them, his intimidating gaze settling on Ulyseon.
“Or shall I call you the mad dog now? You’ve become quite notorious. But what else could one expect from Sir Rovar’s progeny?” “You should refrain from starting unwelcome conversation,” Ulyseon said coldly, sending shivers down Maxi’s spine. “It is no hobby of mine to exchange words with beasts.” “Bahaha! Still have that temper, I see.” The man’s hulking body shook as he burst into laughter. “Didn’t your master teach you not to bark whenever you like?” “No, but he did teach me how to silence a man who likes to run his mouth.”
Ulyseon’s purple eyes glinted as he gripped the hilt of his sword.
Leaning down, Breston’s smile spread into a wide grin. His voice dropped dangerously low. “I’m curious. What did he teach you, little Rovar?”
Maxi nervously glanced back and forth at their faces. A moment later, Sejuleu Aren placed himself between the two men and gripped Breston’s shoulder.
“Look here, Breston. You only just got here. Are you that desperate for trouble?”
The Baltonian knight shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re overreacting. 1 was simply glad to see my fellow comrade-in-arms.” “Give it a rest. You’re too old to be going around picking fights,” Sejuleu said, his voice graver than Maxi had ever heard.
Breston’s lips twisted. “And this coming from you? I remember a time when you’d seek out any brawl you could.” “I’ve become more sensible with age,” Sejuleu said, sighing. “I heard you’re now the commander of your order. Do try not to tarnish your father’s name.”
Hostility flashed across Breston’s face. Maxi held her breath in the tense silence.
“Very well,” he said eventually, nodding. “I shall be careful.”
The tension eased from Maxi’s shoulders. Though Breston still looked willful and dangerous, he seemed to have learned some restraint. She furtively tugged at Ulyseon’s clothes.
“Th-There is an empty table in the infirmary. I would like to continue my work there…
Could you help me move my tools?”
Ulyseon broke his wary glare and released the hilt of his sword. He picked up the tools Maxi indicated and shifted them to his side along with the drake bone.
“Shall we, my lady?” he said, motioning with his head.
Relieved, Maxi rolled up her parchment and tucked it under her arm. She then motioned to Anette, who was absentmindedly watching them from a short distance away.
“Y-You should come too, Anette. We can work indoors to create the magical devices and attach them to your mantlet later.” “You go ahead. 1’11 join you after I finish this,” Anette replied, pointing to the wide board she was hammering.
Maxi nodded and started for the infirmary with Ulyseon. Just then, a hand roughly yanked her around. The grip on her forearm was so forceful that it made her whimper in pain. Breston looked down at her with narrowed eyes before pulling back her hood.
“Huh. 1 was wondering who you might be. You’re that impudent wench who needed to learn some fear.”
Maxi’s face flushed in anger. “H-How dare you—” “From all the racket that bastard made, 1 thought you’d died. But I’m glad to see you’re alive and well — there’s little joy in killing a man who’s lost his mind.”
Paying no mind to her indignation, the man continued to snicker. Maxi shuddered when she saw his reddish-brown eyes gleam like blood.
Losing his patience, Ulyseon dumped the items he was carrying and drew his sword with lightning speed. In the blink of an eye, the gleaming blade hovered just above Breston’s shoulder joint.
“Remove that filthy hand at once, or 1 will ensure you’ll eat like a dog for the rest of your life.” “No need to growl. I have absolutely no intention of hurting her,” Breston replied with a smirk. “I’m just saying hello. If you recall, miss, our previous encounter wasn’t all that pleasant. It’s why I was greatly bothered when I heard you almost died.” “Y-You will pay… if you do not unhand me this instant.”
Maxi cleared her throat past her trembling voice, but she still managed to direct a cold glare at him. She started circulating her mana to resort to magic if necessary when he released her arm.
“Oh dear,” he said, grinning. “I wouldn’t want to be pulverized like the rock walls of Eth Lene.”
As soon as Maxi was free, Ulyseon pulled her behind him. Breston languidly turned away like a cat that had lost interest in the mouse it had been toying with. He strolled toward his men, waving a hand in the air.
“Let’s end our greeting here. We’ll be running into each other often, so let’s try to get along.”
Sticking close to Ulyseon, Maxi fearfully stared at Breston’s back as he walked away.
Sejuleu eyed her with concern. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” “I-I’m fine.” Though her forearm felt bruised, Maxi deliberately maintained a calm facade. “I was… just startled.” “If Sir Riftan were to hear that man is harassing you again, he would not let it slide,” Ulyseon spat menacingly, his jaw clenched tight.
Maxi flinched and jerked her head up at the young knight’s stony face.
“I-I think it would be best not to mention it to Riftan,” she said, trying to pacify him.
“He has affronted you, my lady. He must pay.” “I don’t want this to become a bigger problem,” Maxi said, firmly shaking her head. “To win this war… we must cooperate with the Knights of Phil Aaron. We cannot have discord already affecting our army.” “But this is a matter of honor,” Ulyseon replied stubbornly. “If he is not made to pay, it would be a mark against Sir Riftan. He should be put in his place so he will never again dare treat you with such discourtesy.”
Ulyseon’s adamant expression drained away all of Maxi’s arguments. Something told her that no amount of persuading would have any effect on him.
Sejuleu heaved a deep sigh as he cast a worried look over the Knights of Phil Aaron.
“We’re in for a rough journey.”
***
Riftan cut across the training grounds. Dusk was settling, but the place was still packed with Baltonian soldiers unloading luggage from wagons and setting up their barracks. He swept his gaze over them with narrowed eyes. Most had chain shackles around their wrists and ankles.
“I heard they enlisted prisoners to fill the shortage of soldiers,” Sejuleu explained, matching Riftan’s quick steps. “They gathered those on death row all over Balto by promising pardons.”
Riftan furrowed his brow. “We’ll have to be more watchful of deserters.” “Certainly. And heighten security as well. We should have men keep an eye on them in case anyone tries to run off with supplies or trouble any of the female mages.”
Not bothering with a reply, Riftan continued to assess the soldiers with a ferocious look in his eyes. Since the castle lacked rooms to accommodate thousands, military tents were being erected all over Eth Lene. The Remdragon Knights had set up camp in the basilica’s courtyard alongside the Royal Army of Wedon. Riftan had chosen the location to monitor the church’s movements, but he now realized this might have been the wrong move.
His lips thinned as he scanned the rough faces of the northern men.
Ulyseon walked up to his right, pointing to a large tent by the castle. “That is Breston’s tent, Commander.” “You don’t have to come along,” Riftan spat out coldly as he moved through the crowd of giants armed with iron maces, battle axes, and hefty swords.
Sejuleu trailed behind with a worried expression. “Why not take a breath first?” “I’m fine,” Riftan replied frostily. “I’m going to resolve this with words, so stay out of it.”
He halted in front of Breston’s tent. Recognizing him, the Baltonian knights parted, clearing the way to the entrance. Anticipation shone in their eyes.
Sejuleu let out a groan. “How can 1 stay out of it if we’ve another war on our hands before the real one has even begun? I’ll eat my hat if you two really do resolve this peacefully.”
Ignoring him, Riftan pulled back the thick leather flap covering the tent’s entrance. His gaze landed on the bed covered in expensive throws and furs. A fireplace blazed beside it, with a long table positioned in front.
Richard Breston sat at the table enjoying a sumptuous feast of food and drink. He turned his head toward Riftan.
“Long time no see, Calypse,” he said, raising a silver goblet. “Though 1 can’t say I’m glad to see you, even as a lie.”
Without waiting for permission to enter, Riftan strode into the tent and settled across from Breston. The knight filled a second goblet with wine.
“I hear you’re set to be an earl soon. Here, allow me to offer you a drink to celebrate your undue advancement in life.” “Do you not also have an undue advancement to celebrate?” Riftan said, looking at the claymore propped to one side of the tent.
The hilt was engraved with a wolf, the symbol of the commander of the Knights of Phil Aaron.
Accepting the goblet, Riftan drained it and added dryly, “Allow me to pour you one for managing to weasel your way into your new position using your father’s shining achievements.”
He picked up the bottle and tipped wine into Breston’s goblet. The dark red liquor overflowed, spilling first onto the table and then over Breston’s lap. The man’s languid demeanor vanished, anger blazing in his eyes.
Riftan met his fierce gaze with stony indifference and placed the empty bottle back down. “There is a knot between us that needs untangling. I intend to challenge you to a duel once this war is over, so you can stop your childish provocations.”
Breston said nothing.
“There are soldiers from all over the Seven Kingdoms gathered here. If you don’t want to be ridiculed as the fool who instigates strife, 1 suggest you proceed with caution.”
Breston’s eyes narrowed. He grabbed a chunk of meat and tore a bite out of it. Chewing, he said in an ominous tone, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Riftan slowly rose to his feet. Just as he was about to step out of the tent, Breston’s voice — gleeful this time — grated on his nerves.
“But you see, you misunderstand something. I didn’t talk to that woman to get a rise out of you. I find her bravery fascinating, especially as she’s trembling like a leaf all the while. Even if she weren’t connected to you, 1 would still find myself drawn to her.”
Riftan froze.
“Who knows?” Breston added slowly. “She might be a widow by the time this war is over.”
A heartbeat later, he was no longer smiling. Riftan stood dangerously close to him, his dagger stabbed into the plate between the Baltonian’s fingers. The sharp blade had cut clean through into the table beneath. If his aim had been even a little less precise, it would have pierced the back of Breston’s hand.
In the tense silence that followed, Breston stared at the dagger, his fury rising. He cussed and leaped to his feet.
Wrestling the Baltonian back down onto his chair, Riftan held him there by sheer force. He yanked the dagger up and held it under Breston’s Adam’s apple in one swift movement. Breston’s struggling stilled immediately.
“Did 1 not tell you to mind your tongue?”
Riftan’s chilling voice was at odds with his tranquil gaze.
“You did…” said Breston. “I’ve never forgotten the humiliation of that day.”
His eyes flashed as he bared his teeth. Riftan leaned the tip of his blade closer to his neck.
Sensing they had crossed into dangerous waters, Sejuleu Aren rushed forward. “That’s enough.” “That’s enough,” he said, regarding Breston coldly. “You’ll have plenty of time to settle this after the war. I will even serve as a witness to your duel.”
Riftan slowly backed away before striding toward the entrance.
…..
Acting as though nothing had happened, Breston reached for the meat on his plate. He mumbled as he tore into it, “Then let us both muster our patience. The longer the wait, the sweeter the harvest..”
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