With dawn's first light, the night-long storm faded into a soft rain.
The retinue convened again in the now-clean strategy room, but no matter how long they argued, no single plan satisfied them.
Should they pursue the barbarians through the soaked wilderness, or wait for the skies to clear? Would the rain continue falling harder, or stop completely?
The room held no answer.
His Highness Aldren, face pale yet his eyes sharply awake, stared at the map.
"We can't stay."
Every retinue member quieted down and glanced at him.
"If the barbarians decide on a siege again, it'll become a battle of resources and food."
One officer added, "I heard the barbarians bring their own supplies as well."
Aldren nodded.
"In that case," another one, with a drained face, added, "Wouldn't we be at an advantage? As his royal—G—" He stuttered, looking at the tired Aldren, "A relief army would come soon…"
"No," Luthar suddenly joined the conversation.
"His Highness Aldren and Royal Majesty Granbell aren't on good terms. It is uncertain whether he would help or…"
A knight burst in, dropped to one knee, and bowed.
"My liege—please come to the walls."
One officer asked, "Why? What's happening?"
Aldren brushed past him without a word, and the retinue hurried after. By the time they reached the walls, Julienne and her two advisors were already looking north.
"What is he doing?" Julienne asked, struggling to speak, unsure whether to stay quiet or not. One of her advisors mouthed, "Was it not him who introduced himself as… Otto of the Zekiel clan?"
Luthar's eyes widened as two barbarians beside Otto began whirling in a dance.
"Is that—that barbarian—mocking us!?" one of the commanders yelled.
One of their blue imperial flags rose, then was dropped and stepped on as they danced.
Aldren's eyes slowly started burning with fervor.
"Mocking? Me?"
Then another advisor yelled, "Ah, that's right! Otto Zekiel, the supreme commander of a twenty—"
He stopped as Julienne sharply turned toward him.
"Forgive me, ma—" Julienne's hand swept beside him as he closed his eyes, her target was Aldren, who had already turned around.
"Wait."
His retinue glanced at each other with worried looks.
"What?" he asked.
"It is obviously a trap."
He shook her hand off gently.
"Even if so, I cannot possibly ignore the supreme commander of a twenty-thousand-strong army." Then he turned to Luthar.
"How many knights can follow me immediately?"
Luthar answered as he followed him inside the castle and to the staircase.
"About two to four hundred."
"Good." He turned back toward his retinue.
"Ser Albert," the pale-faced knight, freshly shaved with blue eyes and hair tied in a man bun, bowed.
"Yes?"
"Prepare the rest of the army to follow after. The rest are with me."
"Understood!" they all yelled simultaneously.
Julienne shook her head as the doors closed in her face.
"So impatient…"
"Madam…" her advisor said, eyes wide. "Prepare to open the gates, and close them as quickly as possible. Have the army ready on all four walls in case a siege starts again."
"Yes, ma'am!"
As the gates opened, Aldren rode out with two hundred knights, while Albert prepared the rest for departure.
"Just you wait, supreme commander," Aldren whispered as Otto turned and descended into the forest.
"I'll get you before my brother even arrives."
He raised his sword.
"AQUATIC RETINUE, IN FRONT OF IS OTTO ZEKIEL, APPARENTLY THE COMMANDER OF A TWENTY-THOUSAND-STRONG ARMY—AFTER HIM!"
"OOUGH!" He swung his sword forward, and a couple of knights circled around him, creating three lines of defense.
At the same time, back at Castle Fretze, Granbell was just entering the carriage.
If I remember correctly from my memories, about now Aldren should be… Haha, interesting, a perfect place for a loving older brother to step in… and avoid a public beheading.
"You…" Seeing the brown-haired maid alongside the black-haired maid, who was ready with his breakfast, he smiled and closed the doors behind him.
"You two are also coming?"
Outside the carriage, two trumpets blasted.
"HIS MAJESTY, GRANBELL VERMILLION, IS DEPARTING!" The gates of the castle opened, and the small army descended into the town below.
He sat to the left of the maids.
"Of course, our duty is where our lord goes. After all, he hand-picked us," she said with a slight blush.
Hand-picked?
He remembered yesterday, when he had pointed at her to show him to his room.
Ahh.
You could say I picked her, what about you though?
"For the beginning dish, the cook prepared salade Frietze. It is a traditional dish served to royalty, as you'd already know, my prince."
He nodded, looking at the extravagant green salad, varnished with green leaves, corn, and large pieces of meat.
"Looks good, but I'm gonna skip it." His stomach rumbled, and he felt a slight pain and morning sickness.
Wouldn't want to return all this fancy food to them…
"B-but… My prince has never skipped breakfast before…" the black-haired maid whispered, eyes wide, while Granbell's eyes widened.
He didn't!? That bastard… Aghh, can't act out of the ordinary…
He stared at the food, which appeared to be staring back at him with poison, even though it looked perfectly fine.
"It must be the stress! Our prince is descending into an important war, after all; no one can blame him!" the brown-haired maid said, eyes closed with a smile.
Opening them, she flinched at Granbell staring through her soul.
"W-was I wrong, M'Lord?"
Nice save!
"NOT A—" He coughed.
"Not at all, you're precisely right."
Outside, he noticed, besides the dark yellow flags of the Hollow Knights, crimson-red banners rose as well. As its symbol center of each, a spear rose upward, encircled by blooming roses, with two swords crossed behind it.
The Vermillion imperial guard. Worse than the hollowed dogs… Aren't I encircled with too many enemies? Ahh
He departed under the city's disapproving eyes filled with contempt, not a soul waved as he rode away.