Regressor of the Fallen Family (Novel) Chapter 130


A similar scene unfolded once again, two weeks prior.

The western gate of Alun Castle opened, and the lords of the castle stepped out to welcome their guests.
A sizable knights' order over five hundred strong.
Plus, two superhumans.
Indeed, their visage was all the same, including the palanquin carried by the eight soldiers at the forefront.
"Descend. I shall greet them myself," the owner of the palanquin declared, fully embodying the changed atmosphere from his previous demeanor.
"Loyalty! I, Padric McClain, report the successful completion of our 'mission' to his royal highness, Romaine von Grandia, the rightful heir to the throne!"
The successful completion of a mission?
Jordan tried to object to their sly choice of words, designed to avoid public criticism, but the prince interjected before he could speak.
"Hahaha! Indeed. Padric, I commend your achievements. And to the McClain soldiers, all of you have done well!"
To see Prince Romaine, who often looked down on the nobility, extend his praise, albeit carelessly, to common soldiers was a shock for the soldiers who remained unreactive but not for the knowing nobility.
'They're being treated as high-ranking nobles.'
'A power player has emerged.'
'This needs to be noted carefully.'
As the aristocrats were busy with their thoughts, the pinnacle of this event put an end to their speculations.
"Welcome the heroes of grand merit! Show your respect to McClain knights!"
Jordan Baltmaim's proclamation was met with a thunderous cheer that enveloped the castle.
However, another person standing behind him looked furious beyond words.
* * * 
The Second Prince's faction didn't just loudly welcome McClain, the festivities extended within the deepest mansion of Alun Castle, where accommodations were arranged for McClain's soldiers.
The welcome event in the main hall of the inner castle ran smoothly despite everyone donning armor and the absence of alcohol in the drinks, signifying the presence of delicate refreshments. Almost every influential noble of the Second Prince's faction attended, signifying a potential arrangement of elite forces.
'Except the Bifrost party, of course.'
Roger Bifrost, claiming fatigue, excused himself, which went unchallenged—everyone knew the tensions between his party and McClain.
And among the celebrated guests from McClain, only two were present: Padric and Logan.
- The Second Prince is mine to deal with. All you have to do is smile through it. Since I’ve given you all the real power, there’s no way my blunders will hold us back.
True to his word, Padric shared whispers with the Second Prince, laughing away, impenetrable to anyone else. Meanwhile, Logan conversed with a gray-haired giant of a man, keeping the other nobles at a distance.
Despite the internal chuckle, Logan bowed politely towards Duke Jordan.
"First, let me apologize on this occasion that we did not attack from the rear as promised."
"Oh no, it's alright. Honestly, it was a tricky situation to start with. You managed to find your way around it to achieve merit, and that's enough."
The duke spoke with a smile and patted him on the shoulder—his eyes betraying no humor. If one wasn't close enough to notice, they might have missed the tension in his flawless acting.
'Flaming Sword, my foot, more like an icy snake.'
Suppressing his inner cynicism, Logan smiled back.
"Thank you for understanding."
"Oh, understanding, indeed. That's only natural. Merit should be rewarded. I apologize once again for suspecting you at first. But you know, we had our reasons."
"Of course. We are grateful for the warm reception."
"Hahaha! Well, I am thankful you understand. But..."
"But if that's the case, may I presume my conditions have been accepted?"
Interrupting the duke, Logan's direct question felt louder than it was. The surrounding nobles from the Second Prince's faction intensely shifted their gaze towards them.
Jordan's face tightened for a moment before relaxing again.
"Well! We'll review it positively. If we win thanks to you, what could we possibly deny? But..."
"But then you agree to acknowledge Bifrost's territory, half of the Count of Calia's land, and also the title of Count?"
The counter-question halted Jordan, and the atmosphere chilled as silence fell upon them.
"Hm... ahem. Didn't I say we'd review it positively? I can’t decide that alone. The prince is here too. You're young and full of fire, but considering higher-ups' circumstances would do you good, no?"
Trying to laugh off the tension, the duke spoke again. But the hand upon Logan's shoulder was subtly sending a force meant to intimidate and shrink the heart, although the recipient wasn't fully aware of it.
Despite an understanding that powers influence both mind and body, Logan, who prided himself on surpassing human limits, could barely sense it—a cunning tactic that left him amazed.
'Could this also be a skill acquired through becoming a superhuman?'
He thought, feigning submission, and bowed his head.
"Ah... Indeed, I might have been too forward. My apologies."
"No matter. Young people can be like that sometimes."
Jordan's relieved smile returned, but Logan already got what he wanted—securing his position in the noble circle after their interaction.
'Becoming a superhuman for this? What a rotten thing to do...'
Suppressing his irritation and the vibration from his inner force core, Logan discretely allowed the duke's subtle forces to escape from his body, as if he had indeed been impacted, breaking into a cold sweat.
Moments later, other nobles approached him.
"Lord Logan, may I ask about those weapons?"
"Could we have a moment to talk?"
"Wow, your feats were impressive. My name is..."
Unimportant nobles, apart from the marquises. However, Logan smilingly conversed with each, skillfully dodging troublesome inquiries.
'I'd rather go back to battle. Damn it.'
As he sighed within, another noble interjected.
"If we have no stock, could you provide us with a sample or blueprints, at least?"
Brown hair, blue eyes—the unremarkable Marquis Talos had made a sudden appearance.
"Lucen... Count Talos."
"Hmm, appreciate the remembrance. I'm often forgettable, you see."
Could someone really overlook a principal figure of the faction?
"That’s unthinkable. It's an honor to converse, my lord."
In response to his excessive humility, Logan bowed deeply, causing Lucen's blue eyes to flicker slightly.
"An honor, you say? Does this mean you'll agree to my request?"
Anticipating this, Logan dutifully recited his prepared response.
"The blueprints won't be difficult, but considering the current situation, production and deployment to the field would take time and may prove meaningless."
"If we focus our resources, it might be possible in a short span."
"Hmm. Well, if you say so, wouldn't be too hard to manage."
Of course.
The repeating crossbows would be as weak as the ones used by the Wolves, while the details on Liberatio would be pure fabrications. There'd be no time to prove their worth, after all.
"What's so difficult? We’re all on the same boat."
Logan’s words, heartfelt in his mind, painted a completely different picture with his broad smile.
"Haha! Are you truly willing? It's not easy to part with valuable things. I seem to have misjudged you."
Lucen laughed heartily, patting Logan on the shoulder.
That (somewhat) modest gathering hadn't been long over when Logan's deal reached the ear of an angry someone.
"How dare they decide over my land!"
A tempest whirls around a middle-aged man with blue eyes turning red with fury.
* * * 
While the Second Prince's faction extolled the McClain's achievements, the greater focus was the defeat of the Kairon Wolves, especially since one half of the twin fortresses housed nearly 30,000 inhabitants. Seizing their food could alleviate immediate shortages -- or so they thought.
But for the First Prince's faction, who just witnessed their three supply bases burnt down, the outlook was grim. Nobles, mostly indifferent to peasants' lives, faced the reality that most villagers wouldn’t have their last harvest's food at such a time.
"Even if we seized everything inside the fortress, it would last perhaps a week. If we confiscate from the villages outside, we might secure several months' worth, but our enemies wouldn't just stand by."
"Are we to abandon this fortress?"
"If we fail to find more provisions, that may be our only choice."
"Damn... Those rat bastards have truly spread their poison. Turen, perhaps, but how did they learn about Alston and Pherents? Is there a spy among us? Curse them!"
"Sire, I hesitate to say, but I might have an idea."
"Then speak right away, man!"
"It’s that... Alston and Pherents both served as granaries for Kairos. I fear they might be related to those bat folks..."
Juan Douglas' eyes seared with fury upon hearing his lieutenant's words.
Thus, when the First Prince's desperate forces reemerged from Alon castle's gates.
The once scorned as merchants or dubbed 'The Golden Knights,' the Kairos knights, truly insignificant among the baronies, fronted the First Prince's advancing army.

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