Desmond’s pursuit troops were thrown into confusion. They had come to finish off the ones who had been troubling them, but a new enemy had suddenly appeared. The Fenris knights lying on the ground were just as bewildered. “Is it true...? The Lord has come?” “Could it really be that preparations are already complete?” “H-Hahahaha! The Lord is here! The Lord has come!” They didn’t fully grasp what was happening, but laughter erupted from their mouths. They had thought death was inevitable, yet the timing of this appearance couldn’t have been more perfect! As always, the Lord’s actions were impossible to predict. It wasn’t just the Fenris knights; even the wounded soldiers began to chuckle softly. “We’re saved....” “The Lord has arrived....” “With the Lord here, these bastards don’t stand a chance....” An unshakable belief in Ghislain. If there was one thing Ghislain had instilled in them, it was his unwavering reliability in warfare. “You scum...” The soldiers of Desmond’s army glared at the wounded Fenris forces with grim expressions. To see these nearly dead fools acting so arrogantly just because reinforcements had arrived—how dare they? Their brazen confidence was infuriating. “You lot will die first. Then the others will follow.” A soldier from Desmond’s army approached the Fenris knights on the ground and used his spear to lift a helmet off one of them. There was no need for complicated strikes. A single stab to the face would suffice. However, as the helmets came off, most of the knights, their faces drenched in blood, were still smiling. “Hah... You think a handful of troops like you can defeat our Lord?” The soldiers of Desmond’s army sneered in irritation at those insolent words. They found the confidence of their opponents deeply unsettling. They raised their spears high, determined to strike before the reinforcements fully arrived. Thwack! A sharp sound rang out as an arrow pierced one of the soldiers’ necks. Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Several more arrows flew through the air, striking down other soldiers who had been preparing to attack. “What the hell?!” A soldier from Desmond’s forces turned around in alarm. A group was rapidly approaching from the distance, their speed alarming. At the forefront was a man referred to by the Fenris troops as "the Lord," followed closely by around 300 soldiers clad in black armor, all wielding bows. “Damn it! Retreat! Reform the formation!” The speed of their approach was overwhelming, leaving Desmond’s troops with no time to finish off the Fenris soldiers. They had to regroup quickly. Though the elite forces of Desmond’s army were well-trained, one among them, Baron Hutton, didn’t immediately retreat. ‘I’ll kill him first.’ Baron Hutton decided that if he could kill Gillian, it would devastate the enemy’s morale. Pulling an arrow from his chest, he grabbed a sword from the ground and charged. “Die!” Screech! Clang! Before he could reach Gillian, another arrow flew toward him. He deflected it just in time, but the power behind it made his sword tremble. “Damn it... Such force from an arrow?” The arrow’s strength was unusual. If he hadn’t infused his blade with mana, it might have shattered under the impact. ‘Could this archer be... the Fenris Count himself?’ The one who had fired the arrow wore a wild grin and was now charging at an incredible speed. Killing Gillian was no longer an option. ‘I’ll see for myself if the rumors are true.’ Boom! Riding a black warhorse, Ghislain surged past Gillian and charged directly at Baron Hutton, his spear thrusting forward. “Hmph!” Baron Hutton ducked under the spear and swung his sword at the horse’s legs, intending to bring Ghislain down. It was a well-timed strike, targeting the moment the horse landed from its leap. However, just as the horse’s hooves touched the ground, its powerful muscles pushed it into another jump. “What...?!” Baron Hutton’s disbelief was evident. ‘A horse... evaded my attack?’ Even with an exceptional rider, his timing had been flawless. This was beyond comprehension. Realizing his attack had failed, Baron Hutton rolled forward to create distance. But in that brief moment of hesitation, Ghislain swung his spear. Slash! “Argh!” Baron Hutton groaned as the spear grazed his back. While the wound wasn’t deep, it was enough to leave him shaken. “Well done,” Ghislain remarked, steering his horse and turning to face Hutton. “You managed to dodge twice. It seems you’re a capable knight, at least.” The black warhorse snorted, baring its gums in what seemed like a mocking grin. However, when Ghislain nudged its side, the horse quickly quieted. Meanwhile, the rest of Ghislain’s soldiers arrived, positioning themselves to shield their injured comrades. The tide of battle was shifting rapidly. “Gillian! Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay!” Ghislain shouted with concern. “My Lord....” Gillian, overwhelmed with relief, looked at Ghislain with teary eyes. He had truly thought his end had come. But as Gillian tried to speak, he suddenly remembered something urgent. “My Lord! You need to retreat immediately! Right now—” “Let’s deal with your injuries first. We’ll talk later!” Ghislain interrupted. “No, that’s not what I meant—” “Hey, stop dawdling! Get Gillian and the wounded out of here!” Ghislain commanded. Gillian’s attempts to explain were cut short yet again, this time by "Muscle Gordon," who had come to help him. “Oh no, look at our instructor. You’ve lost so much weight—must’ve been rough! You’re going to lose muscle mass at this rate.” “Gordon! Wait! I need to speak with the Lord—” “Don’t worry, I’ll feed you plenty of chicken breast. Let’s get you up.” “Damn it, you—argh!” As Gordon hauled him away, Gillian’s reopened wounds caused him to groan in pain. While Ghislain’s troops were busy tending to the injured, Baron Hutton took the chance to retreat. His face betrayed his unease. ‘They’re fast!’ The reinforcements had arrived much sooner than expected, and their horsemanship was extraordinary. Catching his breath, Baron Hutton pulled out a potion and poured it over his wounds. ‘His skills are impressive.’ Even after using two potions and suppressing Ghislain’s mana with his own, the residual energy continued to disrupt his healing. As his wounds partially closed, Baron Hutton smirked, his confidence unwavering. “You there! Are you the Fenris Count?” “Yes, I am,” Ghislain replied boldly. “Baron Hutton, at your service. Though I must say, you’ve made a grave mistake.” “A mistake?” “Locking yourself away in your fortress would’ve been wiser. Why come out here?” Baron Hutton’s tone grew more arrogant as he steadied himself. ‘If I kill him, this war ends here.’ But Ghislain, unshaken, stepped off his horse and drew his sword. “Who’s afraid, old man? Let’s see.” The duel was set, and the battlefield grew quiet as the two prepared to fight. *** Baron Hutton shifted his stance, his previously mocking expression sharpening. The air around him changed, and he now resembled a finely honed blade rather than the arrogant noble from moments earlier. “Oh?” Ghislain raised an eyebrow, impressed. The Baron’s presence had become menacing, proving he was no mere braggart. ‘Baron Hutton... so this is the man who gave Gillian so much trouble.’ It was Ghislain’s first time meeting Hutton in this life. In his previous life, Hutton had been implicated in a plot against Count Harold, forced to take his own life after being branded a traitor. But the Baron’s name had been well-known in the North, a fact that Ghislain hadn’t forgotten. With a faint smile, Ghislain adjusted his grip on his sword, preparing himself. The soldiers from both sides began to retreat, creating space between the two combatants. It was customary during a duel between commanders to give them room to fight. This wasn’t just for safety—it was also to ensure neither side interfered with the outcome. Baron Hutton, now fully focused, narrowed his eyes as he addressed Ghislain. “Count Fenris... do you know something?” “What is it?” Ghislain replied, his tone neutral. “I’ve won five knightly duels in my life, and I’m still standing here.” Hutton’s voice carried a distinct note of pride. Each duel had determined the fate of a conflict, and he had carried the weight of his domain’s survival on his shoulders each time. “Perhaps you’re too young to understand, but standing where I am now—it’s a terrifying place to be.” Hutton’s confidence stemmed not only from his skills but also from the immense experience he had accumulated. He was convinced that no inexperienced youth like Ghislain could match the seasoned composure of a veteran. ‘The burden will crush him. No one so young could carry this weight.’ Baron Hutton smirked confidently. But Ghislain simply laughed softly. “I’ve done this over a hundred times.” “...What?” Hutton’s confident smirk faltered. Before he could process Ghislain’s absurd claim, the young count’s eyes began to glow red, and his sword cut through the air with terrifying speed. “Let’s begin.” BOOM! Ghislain’s charge was like a thunderclap. The ground beneath his feet cracked as he lunged forward, his blade arcing toward Baron Hutton with devastating force.