The morning sun came quicker than expected. Granbell was awoken by murmurs outside his bedchamber.
"Someone wake him up…"
"Someone knock!"
"It's already past four a.m… He told us to be ready at five…"
"Call the maids!"
Slowly, his eyes started opening, getting used to the thick and blank darkness in his room. It was somewhere around four, still pitch dark, and he couldn't help but feel a terrible, sickly sensation in his stomach, both for the future and present. "So it wasn't a dream after all…"
Suddenly, two blue flickers and a pair of crimson-red eyes appeared.
"Good morning, Master!" It was none other than the energetic Nox. "Have you slept well? Do I need to brief you on the time? It is four thirty-six! As for your today's acti—"
Granbell ran a hand through his hair and sat on the edge of the bed. "I know." Standing up, he pulled on his knee-high black boots and approached the doors in the same clothes he went to sleep in. "Nox, disappear for the time being."
Nox raised an eyebrow, feigning hurt. He asked, "Are you embarrassed to show me~?" Granbell looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his messy hair, then shoved back the golden cape that traced down his left shoulder, covering half of his back, over the crimson-red uniform marked with multiple black buttons in the middle and elegantly tracing black lines throughout the sleeves.
"Stop jesting. Suddenly a cat appeared in my room? What should I say, a stray cat fell from the skies onto my balcony?"
Understanding the logic, Nox disappeared. "Alright, wish taken to heart, Master. If you need me, I'm still present, just not in a physical body."
The minister of the left's voice could be heard. "Someone must enter. If we do not wake him up before five, the conque—"
The doors opened in his face. Granbell stepped out with his eyes still showing dark underbags. "Is everyone ready?"
Everyone bowed, stepping back. "Yes, M'Lord… Well, pa—" Granbell stared at him, still half-confused from sleep, making the left minister try to throw the duty of reporting to someone else.
"Well, Halden will tell you the details, that's right! This way, M'Lord. The—M'Lord…" He stared him down.. "What about the armor? Shall I call the maids to prepare you, as for breakf—"
"No need," he sternly reprimanded. "It's already past four. Everyone better be ready, understood?"
He nodded shakily, then shoved him left with his arm under the distant sleeves. "This way, M'Lord."
They passed through the silent court, swiftly leaving toward the outer gates where the small army had been prepared.
As the great oak doors opened, Granbell slowed his steps.
Rows of armored knights stood in formation beneath the crimson banners of House Vermillion—yellow dark banners with two wolves opposite one another, a sword piercing through a crown in the middle. Their metal plates gleamed like burnished silver, each helmet carrying the hollow, expressionless visor that had earned them the name Hollow Knights. Even from a distance, their discipline was suffocating—no one shifted, breathed loudly, or dared move an inch out of line.
Hollow knights, the most elite one… One mistake and off with my head eh?
At the front stood Halden, the commander, a towering dark-skinned man whose blackened armor carried deep scars from past campaigns. He struck his chest with a gauntleted fist.
"Lord Granbell. The Hollow Knights stand ready at your command."
Granbell gave a short nod, though inside he felt his stomach tighten. These were the elite. The same ones who would execute Granbell in the game had he not won their favor as a player. The same fate would await as reality if he didn't impress them enough.
Beside Halden waited Quartermaster Hans, thin as a rake, hunched over a parchment listing supplies. When he saw Granbell, he bowed awkwardly.
"All provisions loaded, M'Lord! Rations for around ten days, spare weapons, and the wagons. Everything… everything is ready except—"
Behind Granbell stood the ministers: Left Minister Hreca Huskar, sharp-eyed and analyzing every soldier while trying not to meet Granbell's gaze, and Right Minister Vagran Duntze, stroking his beard with cold calculation, trying to appear busy reading a scroll.
Granbell exhaled softly. "Except?" he sharply asked, remembering how Hreca fidgeted earlier.
"Except… M'Lord, forgive me for I am incompetent, but five thousand in a mere day was… Our city may be one of the prides of the Vermillion Empire as the traditional capital of the northern region, but still—five thousand…" He bowed down with closed eyes. "Was far, far too impossible…" As his legs shook, he almost fell when Granbell's hand touched his arm.
"Fret not," he calmly said, not appearing shaken in the slightest as he already knew this would have happened.
Still, knowing the numbers were significantly lower, he asked, "How much have we prepared?"
Halden stepped in with a low smile. "My Hollow Knights number one thousand. As for what Hans has prepared—"
Hans stopped him. "One thousand five hundred, M'Lord." He nodded shakily. "Yes. Yes." He repeated to himself, then continued, "That is the maximum we could muster." Hans rubbed the back of his glove as if embarrassed to say it aloud. "Every man here is a trained knight—no levies. We brought five hundred bowmen, three hundred infantry knights, two hundred and fifty spearmen, and…" Hans allowed himself a small, proud smile. "Four hundred and fifty heavy cavalrymen. The pride of Vermillions, sir."
The words hung in the air like a drumbeat.
For a moment, Granbell just stared at the assembled troops—rows of armored figures, banners shaking in the wind, horses stamping the frozen ground. It was power. Real power he had never seen, had, or even felt before. But compared to the war he knew was coming… It felt frighteningly small.
So it shrunk fifty percent? Usually it's RNG how much it shrinks in the game, anywhere from ten percent to fifty… Terrible luck? First my system now.. Ahh
"We cannot raise more. If we do, it could prove fatal to the city the moment you leave, M'Lord," Hreca said, still looking in the distance. "With your father terribly ill, there is almost no one to control the nobles except the imperial ministers. And, pardon me, but they do not care about M'Lord, this city, the north, or us."
"I'm aware, Hreca. My death would bring as much joy to them as it would to this city of mine. Hans, good job on raising the army. I thank you."
Hans nodded with tearful eyes. Both ministers nodded, not grasping the whole sentence, yet with open mouths shouted, "M'LORD! NOT AT ALL, WE ARE YOUR MOST HUMBLE SERVAN-"
"Spare me the lies. Take care of Castle Fretze for me." He looked around, noticing the royal carriages approaching. "What's that for?"
Halden looked behind him as the two ministers were still visibly shaken, noticing the golden carriage being pulled by five horses. "M'Lord, of course it is your carriage. We have prepared utmost elegance; your breakfast is already prepared and awaiting you in the carriage."
He shook his head. "Nonsense. What army is whose commander does not lead it?"
He turned toward the stables, noticing that his white war horse—the one he always used in the game—was missing. The ministers and everyone present were struck dumb with awe.
Halden muttered with a smirk, "I knew his son wouldn't be one to throw away…"
Duntze immediately shot him a warning look. Granbell still gazed around while muttering. "Said something?"
"As impressed as I am, my lord, I'd still ask of you to take the carriages. Spare the energy for when it's needed, perhaps?"
I want to ride a horse, though. When was the last time I took classes in real life…? Ah, thank God I did—wait… can riding be forgotten!?
He glanced around, then nodded. "Hm. Sparing the energy sounds nice. I'll do so in that case."
Halden nodded, and as Granbell prepared to enter the carriage, he was stopped.
"M'Lord?"
"Yes?"
"A few words to the men?"
"Ah—right."
How could I forget the most important thing? I should've prepared a speech… Ah, ill just do that… Granbell raised his hand.
"Knights of Vermillion! Today we march not for glory, but for the honor of our house and the defense of the northern lands against the barbaric tribes of the rose. Stand firm, strike true, and let none doubt your courage!"
That should work.. Right? I just copied what that man… would say in a cutscene..
Halden bellowed, "AVE, M'LORD!" Then mounted his horse.
The knights repeated in unison, voices echoing across the courtyard. Both ministers kneeled; Hans had already mounted as well.
Granbell nodded once, then turned and entered the golden carriage, being welcomed in by two maids, which slightly shocked him. The wheels rolled toward the gates as the army followed behind in disciplined silence, the gallop of horses together making Granbell fear for his near future—the Battle of Jouragen.