CHAPTER 210: CHAPTER 209: A TIDE OF BANNERS

Lumberling, who had been silent until then, finally spoke.

"Plans always sound good in rooms like this," he said, eyes fixed on the map. "But when the field turns to chaos, when men fall and lines break... that’s when we’ll see who can stand. My group will do what we must, two Knights, if that’s how the cards fall. Just make sure the rest of the plan doesn’t falter."

The bluntness of his words left the room in silence for a moment. Some of the officers exchanged uneasy glances, but none dared argue. Gordon gave a sharp nod, respect flickering in his eyes.

When all was said, Liraeth exhaled, her gaze shifting to Thalia.

"Lady Thalia, if I may ask, what do you think of the battle? Do you believe it will succeed?"

The veiled woman tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable beneath the thin fabric.

"Why are you asking me, Viscount? Are you not confident in your own plan?"

Liraeth held her gaze for a long moment, but the silence spoke for her. Finally, she looked away.

"...Very well. We’ll proceed as planned. At first light, the march begins."

Chairs scraped as the officers rose, murmuring their farewells before leaving the chamber.

Sorrin clasped Gordon’s forearm tightly. "Fight well, old friend. And come back alive."

"You too," Gordon grunted with a rare smile. "Don’t let the city fall while we’re gone."

On the other side of the room, Garrick leaned close to Thalia, his voice lowered but edged with a soldier’s earnestness.

"Lady Thalia, you should remain here where it’s safe. Leave the rest to us. We’ll handle the battle." He bowed his head, his tone almost pleading.

Thalia’s veil shifted as she gave a small nod. "Very well. I will stay."

But her eyes, calm and steady, lingered not on Garrick, only on the departing figure of Lumberling.

...

Before Lumberling could leave with his men, a soft voice called after him.

"Lord Lumberling, wait."

He turned. Liraeth was standing a little apart from the others, her hands clasped in front of her as though she had something heavy to say but couldn’t quite find the words.

She stepped closer, her eyes flickering toward the ground before meeting his. "I just... wanted to say... be careful out there." Her tone carried the weight of sincerity, though her cheeks betrayed a faint blush.

Lumberling’s lips curved into a teasing smile. "Oh? Are you worried about me, Lady Liraeth?"

Her shoulders stiffened, and she looked away quickly. "No. Don’t flatter yourself. I’m only saying it because you’re important to the battle, nothing more."

"Mm," he said lightly, as though not convinced. Then he leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. "Then let me ask you this, if I return alive, and we win... can I ask for a special reward?"

Liraeth froze, her eyes snapping back to him. She tried to read if he was jesting or serious, but the way he held her gaze made her heart skip.

"What kind of reward?" she asked softly, curiosity slipping past her defenses.

He grinned. "I’ll decide when the time comes."

For a long moment, she didn’t reply. Then, realizing how warm her face felt, she turned her head quickly. "You... you’d better come back first before asking for anything foolish."

"I will," Lumberling said, his smile gentler now.

Her eyes softened, and for a heartbeat the world around them seemed quiet, like the calm before a storm. Finally, she exhaled and spoke in a rush, "Alright... then return safe."

Before he could say more, she spun on her heel and hurried away, her ears tinged red.

Watching her retreating figure, Lumberling chuckled under his breath. ’So she does worry...’

.....

The next day dawned gray, the sky veiled in thin clouds.

Armor clinked, banners swayed, and boots struck the earth in steady rhythm. The sound of thousands marching carried across the plain like a rolling tide.

Lumberling’s group broke off from the main column, heading toward their designated flank.

From the city walls, Liraeth stood among her officers, but her eyes followed only one figure. Lumberling’s back grew smaller with every step, yet the weight in her chest only grew heavier. She pressed her lips together, hiding the worry that threatened to show.

Beside her, Thalia’s veil stirred in the wind. Unlike Liraeth’s open worry, her gaze was heavier, as though searching the departing figure for an answer only she could hear.

.....

Out on the road, Skitz trotted at Lumberling’s side, tilting his head with his usual mischievous grin. "Another buffet for you, my Lord. War really is your dining hall."

Lumberling smirked, adjusting the strap of his spear. "Mmm. Do the usual. If you can, don’t kill the strong ones outright. Let them live long enough for us." His glance shifted toward his captains behind them, making sure they heard the same instruction.

Skitz chuckled. "You mean saving them up for you. As always, you are greedy my Lord."

Lumberling ignored the jab. War was chaos for most, but for him and his strange band, it was a field of opportunity. Each battle meant stronger foes to devour, more essence to feed his growth, and with allies all around, the risks were far lighter than hunting alone. Not to mention, there was gold waiting at the end. Win or lose, he had already marked it as a gain.

The armies divided as planned.

Liraeth’s force, over two thousand soldiers, hardened men and women under Gordon’s stern command marched with the thunder of discipline. A True Knight at their center, two Quasi-Knights, three Apprentices, and several Knight Pages rode among the lines, their auras bolstering the troops.

The Church’s contingent moved with eerie precision. Five hundred men in silvered armor, banners marked with the twilight flame. At their head strode Garrick, his aura sharp and proud. One True Knight and four Knight Apprentices shadowed their ranks.

Together, the three forces advanced toward their goal, the Sengolio camp. Once a thriving town, now a nest of the enemy.

The air itself seemed to tighten, thick with iron and dread, the scent of blood waiting to be spilled.