Ghislain shot Claude a bemused grin. The Grand Chief of the Elves had made a promise, and it was a heavy one. Even if Ereneth eventually realized she’d been outmaneuvered, there was little she could do about it. She might be shocked, but not much else. Originally, Claude had been summoned to organize the alliance structure and prepare necessary agreements for the newly formed coalition. While his bribe-laden methods were unconventional, his efficiency couldn’t be denied. Now, Claude had not only secured the coalition but also managed to bind Ereneth in a contract. For Ghislain, this was an unexpected boon—but it also reminded him just how eccentric his overseer was. "This guy really isn’t normal," Ghislain mused, watching Claude cozy up to Ereneth. “Ah, Grand Chief, we’re family now! That’s how this works, right? Let’s stick together for a long, long time,” Claude said with a wide grin. Ghislain shook his head, muttering under his breath, "What a lunatic." Ereneth, clearly uneasy, responded cautiously, “Yes... we elves will treat our allies as true ‘family.’” Her concept of "family" was likely worlds apart from Claude’s, but she remained unaware of this. With Ereneth officially on board, Ghislain felt a surge of confidence. Having the second strongest of the Continental Seven as an ally was a game-changer. "Now I’ve got another secret weapon," he thought. This would be invaluable in the battles ahead. His first secret weapon was Tenant, whose true prowess as a Master was unknown to even the soldiers of the northern army. Ghislain had carefully suppressed the rumors, knowing that only those with exceptional skill could discern Tenant’s true strength. Now, with two unknown powerhouses at his disposal, Ghislain had more room to maneuver strategically. Ghislain led Ereneth out of the tent and addressed his soldiers. "Everyone, listen up! The Grand Chief of the Elves will be fighting alongside us from now on. Treat all elves as your comrades, not your enemies." A raucous cheer erupted from the ranks. The soldiers had witnessed a fraction of Ereneth’s power during her brief skirmish with Ghislain and were excited to have such a strong ally. Most couldn’t fathom just how powerful she truly was and assumed the earlier fight was merely a warm-up. While most celebrated, the elves and dwarves within the camp seemed uneasy. Ereneth addressed the gathered elves directly. “When this war is over, I will personally escort you all back to the forest, to the World Tree. I have secured your freedom from the Count of Fenris.” Her declaration was met with an awkward silence. Ereneth, puzzled, added, “The forest is where your Mother, the World Tree, resides. Are you not overjoyed?” The elves of Fenris broke into sly grins, confusing Ereneth and her retinue. One of them, Ascon, finally stepped forward, asking bluntly, “Do you have booze there?” “...We do not indulge in alcohol, but fruit wine can be prepared if desired.” “That’s not real booze. Who drinks that? It’s bland and boring. Nobody wants that anymore,” Ascon replied dismissively. “...And meat?” “Meat? Elves do not consume the flesh of animals.” “Wow. No booze, no meat, and nothing to do but sit around in a forest? Hard pass.” Ereneth was at a loss for words as Ascon gestured to the others, flexing his muscular frame. “Do you see this? We can’t survive without chicken or beef. We’ve been through Gordon’s hellish training, and now we need protein.” For the first time, Ereneth noticed just how muscular the Fenris elves were. “...What happened to you all?” she murmured. Another elf added, “And where were you when we were slaves, suffering in chains? Now you want to save us? Thanks, but no thanks.” Ereneth’s followers bristled at the disrespect. “How dare you speak to the Grand Chief that way?” “Pipe down,” Ascon retorted. “I’ve always talked like this, and it’s not changing now. We’ve already got plans to settle in a self-governing district after the war, so don’t get any ideas about dragging us into your forest.” “You insolent wretch!” one of Ereneth’s elves shouted, only to be silenced by her raised hand. “Enough,” she said, her expression tinged with sadness. “It’s my fault. I respect your wishes and will not press the matter further.” Turning to the dwarves, who had been quietly observing, she added, “And I suppose you also blame us for your enslavement?” The dwarves looked at each other in confusion, not understanding the implication. They had been born into slavery and knew nothing of their ancestral history. Ghislain, overhearing this, frowned. "There’s more to this story than I know." Ereneth had lived through centuries, possibly even millennia. If the rumors of her living for over a thousand years were true, she might hold answers to mysteries lost to history. "I’ll have to ask her about this later," he thought. For now, his priority was the ongoing war and dealing with the ducal forces. “Are you attacking the Ducal forces immediately?” Ereneth asked, cutting straight to the point. Ghislain suppressed a laugh. Her directness and lack of social grace were as he remembered from his past life. “No, we’ll focus on clearing the remaining Rifts and regrouping in the central region,” he explained. “We need to consolidate our forces and wait for reinforcements before launching an offensive.” “Why not strike first?” “Because it’s smarter to let them make the first move. Right now, the Ducal forces have to contend with the entire kingdom. They’ll have to spread themselves thin if they want to act preemptively.” 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞 Ereneth considered this, then nodded. “That makes sense. But don’t underestimate their intelligence or resources. The Salvation Order’s network is vast, and they’ll surely know about your reinforcements.” Ghislain smirked. “Let them plan. Thanks to you, we have another weapon they don’t know about.” “So I’ll be the secret weapon, then,” she said with a small smile. “Exactly. The less they know about your involvement, the better. When they act, we’ll be ready to crush them.” “Good. Let’s begin as soon as possible.” “Don’t worry. They’re already getting desperate.” The northern forces, bolstered by Ereneth’s presence, began their march to clear the remaining Rifts. Ghislain’s confidence in their success was higher than ever, knowing he now had two secret weapons capable of turning the tide of any battle. *** Raul sat with his head in his hands, his face gaunt and worn from the last few months. Everything was falling apart. The decoy strategy using the barbarians had failed spectacularly. What he thought was a flawless plan had been thwarted by the unexpected actions of Amelia. The fact that Fenris and Ferdium managed to close the massive Rift with minimal losses was already a shock, but the Rayfold army successfully halting the barbarian horde was even more infuriating. Both outcomes defied his expectations, but Amelia’s bold defection was the most bitter blow of all. “That damn woman,” he muttered, his voice trembling with anger. “How dare she betray us...” No one could deny that Amelia’s rise was thanks to the Duchy’s support. From a mere noblewoman to a countess, her power was built on the Duchy’s resources. Her cutting ties when the Duchy and the Salvation Order were exposed was understandable—most of the Duchy’s aligned nobles had done the same. But her active opposition and interference in Raul’s plans were unforgivable. “I showed restraint... and she dares to sabotage my plans?” It was a humiliation that burned deep. It felt like being bitten by the very dog he had raised. Raul took deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of his thoughts. But the chaos surrounding him only fueled his frustration. “I will make sure this disgrace is repaid a hundredfold.” Anger aside, Raul had no time to dwell on failure. He turned to his advisors and asked, “What’s the status of the southern Rifts?” “They’re nearly contained, and our vassals have completed preparations for war,” one of the advisors replied. Having long prepared for a large-scale conflict, the Duchy’s forces were ready to move at a moment’s notice. The remaining Rifts were the final obstacle before the full-scale campaign could begin. However, Raul knew that their enemies were not idle either. “There’s talk of a coalition forming, isn’t there?” “Yes, my lord. Their primary focus seems to be consolidating control over the Ruthania Kingdom.” Raul groaned, rubbing his temples. If reinforcements from neighboring nations joined the coalition, even the mighty Duchy would struggle to achieve its goals. Already, allied forces from nearby kingdoms were trickling in to bolster the pro-royalist faction. Time was no longer on his side. “Damn it... this isn’t going to be easy.” The greatest challenges remained the Kingdom’s Royal Army and the Northern Army under Fenris. The Duchy’s top priority was to seize the capital and capture the king, but the Royal Army blocked the path. Even if they drew away part of the Royal Army by advancing through the eastern front, the Northern Army posed an equally daunting obstacle. In terms of pure numbers, the Duchy was no longer superior. With the entire Kingdom and the Four Holy Orders turned against them, their position had grown precarious. The Northern Army, in particular, was a force Raul had no desire to clash with. “How do we outmaneuver them...” Raul muttered, sinking into deeper thought. Gatros, the Salvation Order’s leader in Luthania, broke the silence. “Why not wait a little longer? After all, our true goal isn’t territorial conquest, but the king and the royal family’s relic.” “If we delay, the coalition will only grow stronger, and taking the capital will become impossible,” Raul countered. “It’s not easy now either,” Gatros replied with a sly smile. “Fenris and the Northern Army have grown stronger with every failed plan.” Raul’s eyes narrowed, sensing a veiled accusation. Gatros, noticing his irritation, raised his hands in mock apology. “I’m not blaming you, my friend. I’m simply saying we must leverage every advantage we have.” “And what advantage would that be?” “I’ve summoned additional High Priests to join us. Once they arrive, we can begin the offensive. Their strength will turn the tide,” Gatros said confidently. “Are you certain about this?” “At this point, brute force is our only option. And truthfully, other kingdoms aren’t as critical to us as Ruthania is.” Raul considered the proposal and eventually nodded. High Priests wielded power equivalent to superhumans. Even a small number could dramatically shift the battlefield’s dynamics. Gatros, emboldened by Raul’s agreement, leaned forward. “As long as we capture the capital and secure the royal relic, the rest will fall into place.” The relic was the Duchy’s ultimate objective in this war. Total conquest could wait until it was in their grasp. Still, Raul couldn’t suppress his skepticism. “We failed to control the Rifts and couldn’t locate the Guide. Are we certain the royal relic will deliver what we need? Is the so-called King even stirring as you claim?” Gatros’ expression darkened, his tone growing sharper. “Do not doubt. Our Apostles’ powers are growing stronger as we speak. The King’s influence is spreading across the world—his awakening is inevitable.” “...I see.” “We must prepare to claim his blessing. Without the Guide, the royal relic is our best chance to gain access to the sacred site.” Gatros’ eyes gleamed with fervor. “Only then can we truly enter the Promised Realm.” Raul fell silent. As a child, he had been indoctrinated by the Salvation Order’s priests, raised to believe in their divine mission. But unlike the fanatical clergy, Raul’s faith was hollow. To him, the Order was merely a tool for his ambitions. Their zealotry and irrational devotion often grated on him. “Damn fanatics,” he thought bitterly. “They worship that blasted scripture like it’s a gift from the heavens.” Still, the power they commanded was undeniable. As much as Raul resented their methods, he couldn’t dismiss their value. For now, he would play along. His position within the Order demanded nothing less. “Even with more High Priests, breaking through the Northern Army won’t be easy,” Raul admitted. “They’ve grown strong enough to deal with entities like the Equidema. Even Lavier, a High Judge, fell to Fenris and his allies.” “That’s true,” Gatros acknowledged, “but losing more High Priests for the sake of one count would be wasteful. The priority is taking the capital and securing the relic.” “Then what do you suggest?” Gatros’ lips curled into a chilling smile. “Why not lure Count Fenris away from the battlefield?”