Regressor of the Fallen Family (Novel) Chapter 125

Chapter 125: Deploy!

Boooo!



Thud.



As the horn's sound echoed over the walls of Bifrost, the heavy iron gate constructed of heft timber descended across the moat, the knights were the first to pass through on their steeds. All 150 knights were clad in plate armor engraved with flame motifs across their chests. Armor expertly crafted from well-refined steel shone radiantly, boasting of their presence as they reflected the sun's light. 



From amongst them, one stood out at the forefront, garbed in armor that was slightly more distinctive than the others—Knight Eileen, now dressed in custom-fit armor that matched her body, quite unlike the armor she wore when she first joined the knights. The armor suited her small stature and body shape perfectly, shimmering in a subtle shade of silver.



"Don't say things like I'm just asking to die because I'm visible, okay? I've heard enough of that already." 



Eileen retorted sharply, perhaps feeling Logan's gaze on her.



"It's just a way of showing concern for a fellow comrade. After all, there is no knight within our domain who does not acknowledge Lady Eileen 'Knight' now." He quipped, withholding the second part of his thought that her nickname was a bit odd. Perhaps due to the unsaid words, Eileen's expression brightened a little.



"Well... you're probably right." 



She seemed mildly offended at first, but her expression quickly lightened, drawing a smile from Logan.



'She's just nineteen after all.'



It was Logan who had given her the chance, but it was Eileen's efforts that enabled her to adapt and fit in beyond expectation. She was worthy of praise.



"Above all, it suits you well. And judging by the color, that's no ordinary steel either."



"Ah, you think so? Hmm. Well, it was Hammer-nim who crafted it, mixing in mithril, so its defensive capability should be certain."



"Mithril?"



"Don't look at it that way. Though I did use my father’s name to procure it, I paid with my own money. The reward money."



"Ah. Haha, who's to say otherwise? It's impressive. Certainly stands out enough to be worth the risk. Plus, it should make movement a lot easier."



With mithril alloy in her custom-fit armor, it was certain that it would draw attention and likely improve her odds of survival through enhanced capability rather than increasing her chances of being targeted first.



"Hehe. Thank you." 



Seeing her smiling brightly, Logan's heart eased.



'...Ease my heart?'



Caught off-guard by his own thoughts, Logan's expression hardened for a moment.



'I brought a well-living girl to a perilous place; it's natural to feel a sense of responsibility.'



With that thought, he turned his head away from Eileen, catching a glimpse of the achievements his family had made.



Behind the knights followed 1,500 crossbow cavalrymen, not in flashy plate armor like the knights but in quality chainmail, armed with rapid-fire crossbows, and also equipped with auxiliary crossbows and swords at their sides. There were exactly twelve quivers of bolts secured to the back of each horse - a standard armament for the Maclain crossbow cavalry. Now symbolic of the Maclain name, these troops were made up entirely of talented soldiers likely to become knights, and their achievements were splendid, so their pride was no less than that of the knights themselves.



With shoulders back, the troops followed in an ordered march: shield bearers in the front line, with the rest in chainmail and equipped with spears and rapid-fire crossbows. With no horses, they only had three quivers of bolts attached to their belts, but it was enough. There were already over 3,000 of them.



Next came wagons at regular intervals, laden with rations and other consumables, including quivers, for the entire force to replenish. Though additional supplies might be sent later from Bifrost Castle, the current provisions were calculated to sustain at least 2-3 weeks of battle as an adequately stocked supply unit. 



At the forefront of all this, students of Golem Tower, including Clayton, were in place. They managed ten covered wagons, the contents of which were completely hidden. Clayton, guiding the wagon at the front, looked worriedly at the small girl sitting beside him.



"Victoria. Are you truly alright?"



Clayton could still feel the weight of the gazes from Duke Logan's side towards himself, lined up in the distance. The watchful eyes of a knight with red and blue odd eyes kept turning his way.



"…It's okay, Master. Brother won't say anything more."



"For your brother's worry about you…"



"That’s why! I need to show you that I can handle this on my own."



For her brother's sake, too.



"Hmmm. However, do not stray from my side. I promised your brother as much."



"…Yes, Master."



Clayton sighed softly. His genius apprentice, who mastered 1st-circle magic in less than nine months, was too stubborn. It had turned the Tower upside down when she adamantly insisted on joining the war, but since they cherished each other as siblings, Clayton had eventually smiled at the situation. Her brother Viktor had even been warned by the Duke after facing disciplinary action. 



Yet Viktor had looked him directly in the eye and made a near threat of a plea.



- Please, you must protect my sister, no matter what. If anything happens to Lia, I don't know what I might do.



Regardless of Viktor's rapid rise as a promising young knight who became a mid-level force user at a tender age, his power couldn't compare to Clayton's yet. His students were almost angry at Viktor's words, but Clayton was rather touched by the underlying desperation in his eyes and smiled, his curiosity piqued.



'A sibling pair - one a genius at swordplay, the other at magic. I wonder if dragon blood runs in their family.'



The extraordinary siblings, adorned with talents as unique as their appearances, naturally drew his interest. Clayton's gaze met the piercing red and blue odd eyes from a distance.



"Viktor. That's enough."



"M-, my apologies."



"Do you still not understand what I’ve told you?"



"Certainly not."



"You can't always protect someone by just keeping them wrapped up. You’ve come to know that now."



Even so.



"So?"



"...How can I not worry when my young sister follows into a battlefield?"



It was, after all, only natural for a family to worry. Viktor believed so.



"Your sister has always likely had that thought."



"...Yes. It seems likely."



"Clayton will make sure to take good care of Lia. You concentrate on keeping yourself safe too. Don't get carried away and rush in like last time. For your sister's sake as well."



"I understand."



Viktor answered, but his thoughts were elsewhere.



'It's thanks to Lord Logan that I can have such worries now and dream of a future. Lia still needs Lord Logan's protection.'



His sister and his liege.



To Viktor, these were the most important figures. His own safety came only after them.



"Anyway, it's quite a sight."



As the conversation with Eileen and Viktor wrapped up, Logan's lips curled into a smile as he surveyed the entire force. And rightly so. Even after leaving fifty knights and a thousand soldiers behind in the territory, he was leading a force nearly 5,000 strong.



With previously proven crossbows and secret weapons, it was an immense force he couldn't have imagined owning just a few years back, now firmly under his control.



Soon, another 60 knights as a 'favor' would unite with them from the Feretta estate, resulting from wringing out the weakened Feretta after their heavy losses in the Tomodo Castle conflict. And although not brought with this time, adding to this the 10,000 self-defense members trained with crossbows...



'We can do it.'



He felt confident he could accomplish planned regardless of what variables came. Logan exchanged a confident nod with his sister overseeing the deployment from atop the castle walls, her confident pounding at her chest banishing even the slightest of concerns from his heart.



"Here we start again."



Logan's gaze shifted towards the most fiercely contested battlefield of the current civil war – in the direction of the twin fortresses.



* * *



Originally belonging to the territory of the Duke of Walterheim, the twin fortresses of Alrun and Alron were named after two moons that had vanished during the mythical era a millennium ago. Among the largest fortresses in the kingdom, the twin fortresses were built to the east and west, separated by a day's journey on foot. Their original purpose was to protect human lands from the vast orc armies that occupied the southern plains at the time.



The first Duke of Walterheim selected the region name 'Walterheim' as his surname as a commitment to protect humanity and the kingdom. Unfortunately, the noble aspirations of those ancestors have long faded, and today those twin fortresses have become theaters of war, where the people of the same kingdom are divided, killing and being killed.



While the heated atmosphere of intense battle waned and they observed each other, a great army of nearly 5,000 troops became visible from beyond the western fortress.



"The Flame Banner, confirmed. It's the Maclain House!"



"Haha, they’ve actually come... And 5,000 strong, huh..."



While viewing the approaching Maclain forces from atop the fortress walls, Jordan Walterheim couldn't help but chuckle repeatedly. Even though they were an additional force near one-eighth the size of the friendly 40,000 strong, his expression was oddly uneasy.



And reading his expression, Roger Bifrost quickly interjected.



"No doubt they’re a ragtag bunch. Desperate to bolster their numbers with what little remained after their decimation before."



"Hmm... Yet their movements suggest proper training, their equipment is also formidable. Aren't you judging them a little too harshly, Roger, because of your personal dislike?"



Roger Bifrost rolled his eyes at his colleague, who was taking the contrary angle, Lucen Tarlos, with his generic brown hair and blue eyes - an unremarkable figure common throughout the Grandia Kingdom. Lucen was a lazy good-for-nothing who, in Roger's mind, seemed to take pleasure in getting in others' way without ambition or purpose.



'Had it not been for marrying the duke's niece, such a man would have likely declared neutrality.'



Yet, strangely, the Duke held Lucen in high esteem.



Thus, he stood beside the Duke himself at present.



And in such times, as now.



"What say you, Lucen?"



The Duke asked for his opinion first.



"Just a glance at their equipment's quality seems on par with yours, Your Grace. They seem well-trained, and besides, if they're as serious as they were when they humiliated you, they could be a significant force."



"If they’re not serious?"



"If they have come with ill intent, it will be a deadly poison to our own cause."



Roger Bifrost interrupted.



"It's rare that we agree."



"That would be the case if there was no other explanation."



"What?"



"That supply, those troops. Wouldn't it be too costly? Had they arrived with a smaller elite force, maybe, but with such numbers, it's too much for them to simply squander. They'd be crushed and absorbed by Prince One's faction immediately if they lost that army. Not a fool would fail to see that..."



Lucen threw out his indifferent response, and Roger Bifrost felt like a fool. But the Duke's words came faster.



"Tell His Highness the Prince. We will receive them. By all means, let it be grand."



"Your Grace!"



"Don’t be narrow-minded, Roger. Haven't you forgotten the promise I made? They're only meant to be arrow fodder we can throw away in the end."



"Well, it's not that, I just..."



"Enough of the long discussions. Use them to deal a blow to Prince One's faction while we rally for a turnaround. Keep just that in mind."



"...As you wish."



Not long after, Maclain's army reached the front of the western fortress gates. The news was barely notified when the western gates of Alrun Fortress opened, leading to a force with the Phoenix banner moving ahead of them.



A battalion of more than 500 knights. And among them, two superhumans.



But foremost was a palanquin carried high by eight soldiers.



Prince Two, Romaine von Grandia.



The young, arrogant prince sat atop the palanquin with a haughty expression as he observed the approaching Maclain household.



"Glory! Padric Maclain pays homage to the rightful heir to the throne, His Highness Prince Romaine von Grandia!"



As Padric knelt and saluted, his knights swiftly followed suit in unison. Behind them, the soldiers created a disorderly scene – some knelt like the others while some simply stood, unsure.



And the prince greeted the incoming Maclain house leader with considerable disdain.



"Rightful... Hah. An expected phrase, but you're rather late."



'What is this fool on about?'



It was a comment that nearly caused Logan, who had bowed his head following his father, to inadvertently raise it in surprise.

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