As the focus shifted back to the capital city still shrouded in the darkness of war, Prince Brad, who had always been busy in the palace dealing with various matters, was unusually absent today. He left behind a letter that briefly explained a few important matters and the expected time of his return.
"Ha... only after sitting in that position did I realize how troublesome it is. No wonder father always wanted to be out and about."
In a inconspicuous estate located in the noble district, the recently renovated door was pushed open, and Brad stood in the small bamboo forest beside the flowing stream, taking a deep breath. He then released the disguise magic that concealed his identity, letting out a content sigh.
After the coup, Brad hardly had any free time. Although he had long been prepared to sacrifice everything for his dream, occasional relaxation was also permissible under the almost suffocating pressure, right?
Now, only this unknown estate, hidden from outsiders' knowledge, could temporarily help him forget about the troubles and take a breather.
Crossing the small bridge, Brad hummed a poem he had learned during his travels in the south, rolling up his sleeves as he walked towards the small house ahead, ready to personally cook himself a meal.
Inside, there should be the ingredients and utensils prepared by his loyal subordinates in the morning. Speaking of which, it had been a while since he personally cooked. He wondered if he had become rusty in the skills he learned from the master.
When passing by a small pavilion by the pond, Brad hesitated for a moment, a bitter smile appearing on his face.
He wondered when he could gather his family for a meal again and cook for them himself. Father was probably still thinking about how to quickly capture the capital city before the neighboring country with ill intentions could react.
Thinking back, he really had provoked a formidable opponent in the form of the War King. Should he admire his own courage, or was it because he was accustomed to father's playful image that he had no concept of the war god who never lost a battle and always took what he wanted?
Arriving in front of the small house, Brad didn't immediately push the door. Instead, he abruptly stopped as if slamming on the brakes.
"What's going on?"
An uneasy atmosphere, an extremely unsettling aura emanated from behind that door. Both the training in magic and martial arts had given Brad keen perception and accurate intuition. However, his mental senses couldn't enter the room, which was definitely an abnormal situation.
Either there was a magic formation inside that blocked mental detection or there was a stronger individual who could isolate their spiritual power from himself.
Neither of these possibilities was a good thing, right?
Brad could feel his shirt drenched in cold sweat. Was it an enemy sent by a hostile faction? What about his father...Tiran, perhaps? But if it was his own sister, she would probably boldly come knocking at his door, right?
But then how did others find out about the location of his estate?
No...rather than that, the main point to think about was what he should do now.
Nine-tenths of the situation in the capital city hinged on him. If he died, his father would easily cleanse the capital city of rebellious forces. The person inside the house was likely targeting him, so the safest course of action would be to leave immediately.
Under the condition of practicing both magic and martial arts, even a great knight or a magitech master might not be able to kill Brad within a short period of time. There were also his own powerful subordinates and Heinrich's men in the capital city, so ensuring his safety shouldn't be a problem.
"Prince Brad, aren't you coming in? I've been waiting for quite a while, you know," a voice spoke from behind the door just as Brad started considering retreating.
Upon hearing the sound, Brad's expression changed several times in succession - from confusion to astonishment, then to relief and a touch of helplessness. He relaxed his body and boldly pushed open the door.
The room was still the same empty cottage, except for a neatly piled set of kitchenware and a box of fresh ingredients still moist with dew in the corner. But right in the center was a huge bathtub, occupying almost half of the room's space. The rising white mist made the air inside the room damp, and on the clothing rack hung a pure white robe.
A young girl was bathing, her wet white hair sticking together against her skin. Most of her graceful body was hidden behind the rim of the tub, and her slender fingers pressed against the edge of the bathtub as she curiously looked at the Prince who had entered through the door. Brad, on the other hand, did not show any signs of panic as a normal man would when approaching a girl bathing. He simply calmly gazed at the girl's cute face and milky-white skin.
The two stared at each other in silence for a while, but it was the girl who couldn't help herself and pouted before sinking back into the water with a splashing sound. "What a boring reaction, Prince Brad. Aren't you going to do anything? It's rare for someone to tempt you like this."
"I haven't lived enough yet and don't want to provoke the sacred adjudicator, Miss 'Gardener,' so soon," Brad leaned against the wall with his hands spread open.
"Before becoming an adjudicator, I was also a cute girl, you know. It's quite hurtful to hear you say that, Prince Brad."
"Please change your hobby first before saying such things," Brad remained unfazed.
"Why should I change? Isn't it good to raise flowers? Don't you also think these flowers are beautiful?" The girl extended her hands, which were moistened with droplets of water, and after a brilliant radiance, two yellow irises appeared in a flower vase in front of Brad.
"A welcome gift, symbolizing victory - the yellow iris for Your Highness. I wish you great success in the upcoming war."
The flowers were indeed beautiful, with three bright yellow petals resembling the unfolded wings of a bird. The fragrant aroma filled the entire room, but along with the fragrance, there was also a hint of a disturbing bloody smell.
Seeing that Brad hadn't made any moves for a while, the girl became dissatisfied and pouted, but after a flicker in her eyes, she smiled again and added, "After all, this is also a gesture from that knight under Your Highness."
"You?!" Brad, who had managed to maintain his composure until now, finally showed a flicker of emotion. In his emerald eyes, a bone-chilling coldness could be seen. "Did you—"
"Rest assured, rest assured. This young lady knows her boundaries. I didn't do anything too excessive, really, just borrowed a little bit of blood. I promise, just a little bit," the girl giggled.
Brad's headache began. Heinrich had said he wanted to help, but did he actually just bring him a huge problem?
...
Training grounds of Gilliast Castle.
Tiran, who had just finished a round of sword practice, casually inserted his sword by the side, took the towel that Mimi handed him, wiped away the beads of sweat on his face, then took a sip of water, breathing slightly heavily.
A single sword practice held little significance for Tiran, who was in perfect condition, but it allowed him to maintain the feel of holding a sword when he couldn't use his Chi and Holy Rank powers.
"Your Highness, it's almost time. The training can be finished now," Mimi reminded.
"Huh, so soon? I thought I could fit in another round," Tiran pulled out his sword and sheathed it, his expression showing a hint of regret.
If it were Tiran's personal training grounds, he could spend as much time as he wanted. However, his plummeting strength meant that the specially modified knight-level training grounds, which had been reinforced with magic arrays and subjected to enhanced gravity, were no longer usable. They had to temporarily make do with this training area, originally intended for the guards stationed here.
Although Tiran could continue using his powers, it would disrupt the normal training of the guards. As someone who has retained modern concepts as he crossed over, Tiran tries to avoid causing trouble for others as much as possible.
At that moment, a guard ran over quickly. "Oh, we're almost done here. You can prepare for training," Tiran waved him off.
"It's not about that... Your Highness, the Shadow Knights have arrived," the guard paused for a moment, then caught Tiran's meaning and quickly waved his hand.
"Shuma?" Tiran blinked, oh right, he and Aya had flown back in triple sonic speed. According to the normal calculations, Shuma should have reached from Icant on horseback.
"Yes, and... there are other people we don't know. They said they wanted to see you, Your Highness. There are quite a few of them, and our guards have blocked them. I came specifically to inform you," the guard said.
Shuma was one thing, but there were others? Tiran was puzzled, and when she followed the guard to the front courtyard of the castle and saw the three groups of people confronting each other, she rarely showed an expression of shock.
In addition to the Shadow Knights and her own castle guards, there was a group of several dozen people. They didn't have the orderly formation and unified equipment of a regular army, but were standing haphazardly with equipment that showed strong personal styles. They looked more like adventurers or mercenaries...
Then Tiran noticed the towering man in the crowd.
"Haha, long time no see, Your Highness Tiran, little knight girl! And that maid over there too!"
The commanding officer of the Snow Wolf Squad still had a loud voice that made people's eardrums ache. He waved his large hand towards Tiran who was standing on the steps, exuding a hearty demeanor.
