[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]

Chapter 290: An Ambush in the Mountains

"All troops, advance!"

The Grunewald banners rose in unison, and the thunderous trumpets of the military band blared an impassioned cry toward the Virgenhrid Mountains.

Boom, boom, boom, boom!

Allenvert's personal guard, two battalions of Special Operations Division, troops supported by the Visquera clan, along with forces from the Red Mist Alliance, the Bisakino Brotherhood, and the Haglandere—

Elites, rarely gathered in one place, marched forward, each in different attire but united under the same banner.

"Go, Fourth Young Master!"

"We wish you good fortune!"

"Avenge them!"

"You're so handsome!"

"Marry me!"

"Who said that thing just now?!"

The flower petals scattered by the onlookers were like falling snow.

"War is truly strange. Those who go to kill and be killed are celebrated, and they raise their blood-stained hands, singing of honor."

Jeffrey nodded at Allenvert's words.

"No matter how much you romanticize it with talk of chivalry, the essence of war is still just slaughter."

Having experienced a major battle, Jeffrey's spirit had become firmer than before.

"Nevertheless, it is a soldier's duty to wield a sword for revenge, for survival, for the future."

Jeffrey resolved.

"I will simply fulfill my given duty."

"A good mindset, Commander Jeffrey of the Personal Guard."

Ulbrich stroked the sword etched with the Grunewald crest, radiating a subtle fighting spirit.

"The duty of a noble and a soldier is ultimately to protect their territory and safeguard their people. Haven't we each trained in martial arts our whole lives for that very mission?"

Meanwhile, Rudgarda and Turnak were silent.

The two quietly burned with hatred, seeking revenge on the clans that had abandoned them.

"Don't be too nervous, Fifth Young Master. Just focus on surviving first, and your vision will gradually open up."

On the other hand, Chase of the Special Operations Division was giving various pieces of advice to Barclava.

"Leader, I think I'm nervous."

"So am I, so don't show it."

"You too, Leader?"

"It's awkward for an underworld cutthroat to be cheered on in broad daylight."

Zizek and Nagan whispered, and—

"Grandfather, the long-awaited moment has finally arrived."

"You've endured well, Knut. After escaping the long tunnel, the light we desired finally awaits us."

Knut and Balthazar also looked at the mountains stretching beyond, their voices filled with emotion.

"It is magnificent."

Duke Georg, watching the procession, remarked.

"Look, Butler. See the bird that hasn't spread its wings for seven years now soaring proudly into the high sky."

"It was quite a long wait."

Count Aiden looked at Allenvert's back, who had now become a man.

"It's time for the adults to move busily now."

Venion grinned.

"We've conspicuously bought war materials and are forming units by gathering mercenaries from within the duchy. We plan to conduct basic training for regular soldiers as well as conscripted common soldiers."

"Prepare as conspicuously as possible. As if we're leading a large army to attack the royal capital."

"You mean to reveal ambitions to overthrow the kingdom, like the Montera Ducal clan?"

Venion nodded.

"Leave it to me. I'll spread misinformation through spies."

"We must also quietly prepare ships to transport the troops."

Georg turned his head toward the sea.

"When Allen, bearing the banner of revenge, draws everyone's attention and departs for the mountains, then it will be Verdzig's turn."

But there was one thing that needed to be done before that.

"Lord."

Venion asked.

"What will be the disposition for Count Bergen's 'last struggle'?"

"Disposition, you say."

The Duke closed his eyes.

'I've truly endured and waited for a long time.'

After much patience, the opportunity had arrived to decisively remove that old fox with perfect justification.

"I will mete out a punishment that will prevent him from ever recovering, in any form."

. . .

"Young Master, shouldn't you go out and see them off?"

"There's no particular need for that."

Verdzig answered calmly to the 8th Prince's question.

"There's no need to send off a rival."

"Haha, well, you seem to have a deeper bond than I heard."

The 8th Prince subtly smiled and pointed to the map.

"I never imagined the brothers would launch a joint operation."

The two were discussing the advance routes and sea lanes, with a map of the Litvaleur Kingdom spread out before them.

"If we head north along the coastline, we'll be discovered. Fortunately, at this time of year, we can easily use the seasonal winds and ocean currents, so our plan is to make a wide detour far out at sea to evade surveillance."

The 8th Prince nodded.

"You said the deadline is two weeks, correct? That should be enough time for His Royal Highness's reinforcements to capture the port."

"If they drag their feet or don't send enough troops, the plan will be derailed from the start."

Verdzig directly asked the 8th Prince, "Do you have a reliable accomplice within the First Prince's faction?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

It was a strange exchange, implying and acknowledging that the 8th Prince harbored ambitions.

"This is a crucial matter. Otherwise, it cannot be called an 'equal partnership'."

Even if one's status is higher, if they have little power or accomplishments, their standing will inevitably diminish; such is the way of the world.

"That will probably not happen."

Because of this, the 8th Prince couldn't help but feel a little tense, sensing the pressure hidden in Verdzig's calm tone.

'They said the Second Young Master was a formidable hero, and indeed, he's not to be underestimated.'

He felt that if he didn't stay sharp, he would be swallowed whole and end up as mere window dressing.

'It can't be helped. My own power is insufficient, so I've come to borrow someone else's.'

The 8th Prince was a man who could objectively view his own position.

***

"The mountains are a completely different battlefield from anything you've experienced. Extreme caution is required, and more than anything, you need to get used to it."

The moment we entered the mountain range, untouched dense forests greeted us.

"The light doesn't penetrate well here."

"There are no paths either. We'll have to either go around or cut down trees to advance."

The underworld members looked troubled, but those from the Special Operations Division and Haglandere were different.

"If you just push forward like that, your stamina will be drained before you even fight. Finding paths used by animals is the priority. A skilled guide is most important."

"Granduncle is right. The scouts should find the path first, leave marks, and then the main force will follow."

The Haglandere members carefully took on the role of scouts, with Regeron, a member of the Shadow Division, protecting the main force from the rear.

"So this is why a march is also a military operation," I murmured.

The dense and rugged forests and mountains were, in themselves, an environment hostile to humans.

"It's no wonder mountain people are called a strong race. You'd have to be tough to survive in this environment."

I clicked my tongue.

"Exactly. These mountains are an impregnable fortress in themselves."

Balthazar volunteered as a guide and strategist.

"Allen, as you can see, in this terrain, leading horses and transporting supplies is tactically disadvantageous. The paths available are also limited, making it easy for the enemy to predict our movements."

"This march is far more uncomfortable and dangerous than during Marquis Belorok's time."

"Beware of ambushes, night attacks, and traps. The enemy will already be watching us and will constantly try to erode our physical and mental strength."

The officers who overheard swallowed nervously.

"How do you think they'll come at us?"

"As I said, Grimnar is a master of poisons. He'll spread poisonous mist, dig pitfalls, poison the drinking water, and release venomous insects. If a plague breaks out, it's over."

Balthazar replied.

"...If I weren't here, that is. Grimnar knows that, so he won't use methods that induce plagues."

However, other tactics would be hard to stop.

"Isn't that why the scouting party is ahead, to deal with those in advance? Let's wait and see how they come at us."

***

The scouting party led by Knut skillfully found paths and observed enemy movements as they advanced.

"I miss this. When I was little, I'd come out this far and get scolded by Father and Grandfather."

To outsiders, it was all the same forest, but Knut could distinguish the subtle terrain differences as clearly as reading his palm.

"This is a good place for an ambush. Even when I played hunting games as a child, many of my friends would wait here."

Knut pointed to a certain spot.

"So... come on out, you dogs of Grimnar."

There was no reply.

"Oh? You won't come out?"

Knut let out a snicker, then cupped his hand in the nearby stream and drank from it.

"The water tastes strangely sweet. It must be an irresistible temptation for thirsty soldiers."

A sweet-tasting poison.

Knut knew of such poisons.

"And the insects flying between the trees, they don't naturally live here. They're small, but their bite carries enough venom to cause a critical condition."

...At that, the bushes rustled.

"You can fool outsiders, but you can't fool Knut Eisenach, you clumsy fools!"

Knut raised his fist.

"Get ready, an enemy attack is coming soon."

Then a voice emerged from the bushes.

"Knut, it's been a while. You've grown a lot."

It was an unpleasantly buzzing sound, as if it were some form of sonic attack in itself.

"I can clearly see you, fleeing with tears of blood. Have you brought the few remaining members of your clan here to die this time?"

Knut scoffed at the taunt.

"Show your face when you speak, you chattering magpie."

"Very well."

Mountain warriors, wearing helmets adorned with large feathers and light armor for easy movement, emerged from among the trees.

"Knut, haven't you woken from your nightmare yet? Your eyes are filled with hatred."

"Those who kill may forget, but those whose families have been killed never forget."

Knut stated.

"I've come to collect the blood debt. This time, it's your turn to fall into eternal slumber."

***

Zamuel rode his horse along the Lindela River.

"Boss, could it really be true? That Captain Karzan is alive?"

Zamuel replied to his subordinate, who was now middle-aged.

"It's impossible. I heard the Captain was blown up and left no body behind."

However, if that was the case, who was this 'Karzan' who had suddenly appeared after seventeen years, gathered the underworld factions under Grunewald's Fourth Young Master, and began making a name for himself?

'His skill in tracking down an informant through Severian and notifying us of a meeting date.'

No matter how he looked at it, it was exactly the Karzan he remembered.

"I'll find out when I meet him in person."

Zamuel, a formidable figure who dominated the northern underworld of the Kingdom, headed for Count Webern's territory.

[Translator - Pot ]

[Proofreader - Kawaii ]