"We will garrison Crimson Fortress for two more months. After that, we will withdraw back to Twilight Forest."
Seated in his chair, Blake twirled a silver spoon leisurely in his hand as he spoke to Viscount Byrd and Della before him. The two men had, of course, already learned of Blake's true identity and had come to him at the first opportunity. Truth be told, when they heard the news, both Viscount Byrd and Della had felt a surge of relief. They had never imagined the young man standing before them would possess such a formidable background. At this moment, they could not help but count their blessings—thankfully, they had chosen to ally themselves with Blake. Otherwise, they would likely have met an untimely end without ever knowing what hit them.
Thus, as soon as Blake returned to the fortress, the two nobles had hurried to pay him a personal visit. Their purposes were twofold: first, to gauge the great man's attitude toward them, and second, to inquire about their future strategy. Now, the entire noble coalition looked to Blake as their undisputed leader, and none would dare defy his orders.
"Withdraw to Twilight Forest?"
Upon hearing Blake's words, Viscount Byrd and Della exchanged a hesitant glance.
"My lord, but—"
"Two months is the absolute limit of what I can do for Crimson Fortress," Blake cut Viscount Byrd off, then smiled and held up two fingers.
"I think you both know by now that I am not from the Kingdom of Wester, nor are the Knights of the Apocalypse beholden to any nation. Therefore, your king's commands hold no sway over me. The only reason I am willing to lead my knights in defending Crimson Fortress is to repay the favor of your kingdom's stewardship of our lands for all these years. This is a voluntary act on my part, and it has nothing to do with your king. Of course, the agreements between us remain valid—provided that you act on behalf of your respective families, not the Kingdom of Wester."
"Of course, of course!"
At this, Viscount Byrd and Della nodded hastily in agreement. In truth, after receiving word of Blake's identity, their families had made much the same decision as the three dukes. After all, the king's wrath was a distant threat, but Twilight Forest lay right on their borders. One wrong move could spell utter ruin for their clans. What was more, they had to consider the stance of Princess Ophelia. Thus, though the two families had not formally declared their secession from the crown, they had all but cut ties with the royal court. Before coming to meet Blake, the two nobles had been quite anxious, wondering if he would still honor their previous agreements. After all, they were merely two noble houses, while the Knights of the Apocalypse were a legendary organization whose name had echoed through the ages. The comparison between them was like that of ants to an elephant—hardly an equal match. They had feared that Blake might cast them aside now that his true power was revealed. But now that he had personally confirmed that their agreements would stand, the two men breathed a collective sigh of relief.
"If the Sith Empire chooses to attack, I may extend our garrison. But if the Sith take no action within these two months, I will lead the knights back to Twilight Forest… and after that, I will no longer concern myself with the war between Wester and the Sith. Of course, in accordance with the pacts signed between your families and me, we will provide defensive assistance if you come under threat from the Sith Empire. Beyond that, however, we will take no further action."
"This…"
Upon hearing this, Viscount Byrd and Della looked even more troubled. On one hand, they were subjects of Wester; to stand idly by while their kingdom faced peril went against everything they believed in. But even a fool knew how formidable the Sith army was. Unlike the dukes, who commanded vast private legions, their two houses were merely great nobles. Faced with an assault by the Gifted Knights, they would be doomed to destruction.
"Very well, Lord Blake. We understand," Viscount Byrd finally nodded and replied. Blake had made his position perfectly clear: he was not a citizen of Wester, and he cared nothing for the kingdom's internal affairs. They were Wester's nobles—whether they chose to fight, defend, or surrender was their own business, and none of his concern. Thus, Viscount Byrd quickly pulled Della back, stopping him from making a rash remark. He then bowed respectfully to Blake.
"I trust you understand that this conversation must remain between the three of us."
"Naturally. We understand."
Watching Viscount Byrd and Della depart, the elegant, self-assured smile reappeared on Blake's face. At that moment, Charlotte, who had been standing silently at his side this entire time, finally spoke up.
"My lord, do you truly intend to stay here for two months?"
"Certainly."
Blake stirred the milk tea in his cup with the silver spoon, then raised an eyebrow.
"After all, the Kingdom of Wester has managed our territories for seventy years without making any major changes. The least I can do is guard their borders for two months in return. But unfortunately, the Knights of the Apocalypse never work for free. So if the Kingdom of Wester wishes to secure my continued aid, they will have to pay a very steep price."
"The same terms as before?"
"Naturally. The same terms as before."
With that, Blake lifted the teacup and drained its contents in one gulp.
"Charlotte, I have a task for you."
"Your wish is my command, my lord."
"I want you to go to Olut and meet with their commanding officer alone."
Blake's tone was casual, as if he were sending her off on a leisurely trip.
"Then inform them that barring any unforeseen circumstances, I will not leave Crimson Fortress."
"I understand your meaning."
Upon hearing this, Charlotte smiled. She tilted her head to the side, thinking for a moment.
"Is it enough to simply deliver this message?"
"Yes. Rest assured, if you should happen to fall in battle, I will find you a body far more beautiful than your current one. Of course, before you depart, you may write down any requests you have—such as bust size or hair color."
"I am perfectly satisfied with my current body, my lord," Charlotte chuckled in response to Blake's words.
"Honestly speaking, it is rare to find a body that has been so well-preserved. I still remember that when I was alive, I was so focused on my research that I paid little attention to my appearance. Back then, my skin and hair were indeed not as fine as others'. But now that I have such a lovely vessel, I have no intention of wasting it."
"That is good to hear. Remember—make haste there and back."
Now that Charlotte had given her answer, Blake said no more on the matter. He merely offered this casual reminder, then fell silent.
On the surface, this exchange seemed like nothing more than a private conversation between master and servant. But one must remember that Charlotte had just accepted a mission that would strike fear into the hearts of any who heard it. It meant she would have to slip silently through the defenses of Crimson Fortress, cross the Sith Empire's lines, and penetrate deep into Olut's territory. While this might seem similar to the time Blake had snuck into Olut with the twin sisters, the two missions were in fact vastly different. After all, on that previous occasion, Blake had merely lingered in Olut briefly, choosing his destinations at will. But this time, Charlotte would have to venture actively into the heart of the Sith military camp, and even find their commanding general undetected to deliver her message. This was undoubtedly an extremely difficult—if not impossible—task. For Charlotte's own strength was not particularly high. Even in her prime, she had never attained the rank of Knight, possessing only power comparable to one. Now, inhabiting a body that was entirely human, Charlotte had lost all her former abilities. Physically speaking, she was nothing more than an ordinary young girl. Even a low-ranked swordsman could pose a threat to her.
Yet Charlotte had accepted the mission without the slightest hesitation, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. And Blake had not given a second thought to the enormous disparity in power, issuing an order that to anyone else would have seemed like a death sentence.
Charlotte departed soon after. But no one knew how she had left.
It was not until three days later, when Ophelia finished organizing the military intelligence and brought it to Blake's command room, that she noticed Charlotte's absence. When she asked Blake about it, his only reply was, "She has some business to attend to and has gone out for a while." Thus, Ophelia thought no more of it.
So where exactly was Charlotte?
Deep within the Silver Forest, in the territory of the former Kingdom of Olut.
A sprawling encampment of white tents lay hidden amidst the trees. All around them, fully armed soldiers patrolled in silence. Their expressions were stern, yet they gripped their weapons with a sense of boredom as they scanned their surroundings vigilantly. Their performance was neither particularly poor nor outstanding. After all, this was now Sith territory—an internal region, no less. What was more, this was the headquarters of the Four Scourges of the Sith. Who in their right mind would dare to trespass here?
After scanning the area one last time, the guards turned and continued along their predetermined route. No sooner had they left than another patrol moved in to fill the gap, continuing their watch and defense duties.
Charlotte frowned.
At that moment, she stood perched high up in a tree, her figure concealed by the dense foliage as she gazed at the distant camp. The young woman's expression was grave. She wore a monocle over her right eye, upon which faint traces of magical light flickered from time to time before vanishing completely in the sunlight.
"I did not expect their defenses to be this tight. How strange—according to our intelligence, this level of security is completely unnecessary."
Muttering to herself, Charlotte reached into her bosom and pulled out a map of the area, carefully comparing it with the current troop deployments.
In truth, Charlotte had never been an ordinary maid. This time, when Blake led the knights to war, he had brought five other maids with him besides Charlotte. Of course, like Charlotte, these maids were individuals who had lacked sufficient strength in their previous lives and now inhabited ordinary young women's bodies, rendering them powerless. For a long time, Ophelia, Viscount Byrd, and the others had been puzzled by the presence of these maids on the battlefield. They possessed no combat abilities, nor could they fight like the twin sisters or Judy. Their inclusion seemed utterly pointless. In the end, they had no choice but to conclude that Blake must have brought them along to attend to his personal needs. After all, nobles always required attendants, no matter where they went.
But the truth was far different. These five maids were not here to travel or serve their master. Starting from the second day after their arrival at Crimson Fortress, Charlotte had dispatched them to infiltrate Olut and gather intelligence. They were not warriors—but they were the most professional spies imaginable!
The Knights of the Apocalypse had always maintained their own intelligence network, and that network was constructed and managed by Charlotte and her subordinates—the very elite of the elite.
"The patrols are double the usual number," Charlotte frowned after cross-referencing three different sets of intelligence reports. She then lifted her head, her eyes narrowing as she stared curiously at the military camp before her.
"How odd. The Sith Empire has no intention of advancing at present, so why are their defenses so stringent? Could it be that some high-ranking dignitary has arrived?"
Charlotte's judgment was correct. In fact, a most unexpected and exalted figure had indeed arrived at the Sith Empire's forward military camp.
"Elder sister."
Sidvi followed closely at Lindilot's side, clutching the hem of her dress tightly in one hand as she looked up at the young woman beside her.
"You must be exhausted. I never thought you would make such a long journey all the way here. I am so sorry—it is all my fault for being incompetent. Otherwise—"
"This is not your fault, Sidvi," Lindilot replied with a gentle smile, then reached out and stroked the girl's long hair affectionately.
"The Knights of the Apocalypse are an unpredictable enemy. It is always better to be cautious. After all, we fight for our country, and we must always prioritize its interests above all else. In truth, I am very pleased that you followed my orders and held your position to await further instructions. I remember that you have never been fond of such passive tactics."
"I am not fond of them," Sidvi shook her head at Lindilot's words, then tightened her grip on the princess's dress even further.
"But these are elder sister's orders. I will obey whatever you command me to do."
"You…"
Upon hearing this, a helpless smile tugged at the corner of Lindilot's lips. She shook her head and sighed softly. To be honest, she could not understand why her father was so determined to press ahead with the invasion of Wester. In truth, there were already many voices of dissent within the Sith Empire. While victory could quell public unrest, war was a momentous undertaking with far-reaching consequences. Although triumph could offset the complaints about the war, the weariness of constant conflict would inevitably set in sooner or later. And now, with the return of the Knights of the Apocalypse, those voices of dissent had only grown louder. The Sith Emperor had always been a man of great vision and talent—he should have known how to choose his battles wisely. But this time, his decision was utterly incomprehensible to Lindilot, who had always believed she knew her father better than anyone else. Now, however, she suddenly realized that she did not understand him at all.
But she was, first and foremost, the princess of the Sith Empire. Her father was the empire's rightful ruler. Thus, whether as a daughter or a subject, she had no choice but to carry out the Sith Emperor's orders.
"Alright, do not be petulant. I plan to visit General Karan first, then we can discuss our next steps."
"Visit that man?"
Upon hearing this, Sidvi's expression immediately darkened. Only at times like this did she reveal her childish side—she wore her heart on her sleeve, loving and hating with uncompromising clarity.
"Elder sister…"
"Yes, Sidvi?"
"…Very well."
In the end, Sidvi could not bring herself to voice her objections. She reluctantly led Lindilot to Karan's encampment, located on the other side of the military base.
As one of the Four Scourges of the Sith, Karan naturally had his own separate quarters. However, since he was a vanguard commander rather than a supreme general, he had always operated alongside Sidvi. Thus, his tent was not as ostentatious as those of other high-ranking commanders, but it was far more exquisite and luxurious. When Lindilot and Sidvi arrived, they were promptly announced. But after waiting for a short while, they received word that Karan had invited them to enter his tent.
Upon hearing this response, Sidvi could barely contain her anger. She herself did not care about such formalities, but today she was accompanying the princess of the Sith Empire—a woman of the highest royal blood. How dare that damned half-breed be so rude? It was he who should have come out to greet them personally, yet now he expected the princess to come to him instead. What arrogance!
"Very well, let us go in to see him," Lindilot said, stopping Sidvi just as she was about to lose her temper. She stepped into the tent, with Sidvi following closely behind, her brow furrowed in deep dissatisfaction.
But when the two women entered the tent and laid eyes on Karan, they both froze in surprise.
The Karan standing before them was nothing like his usual suave and elegant self. He stood rigidly in place like a wooden post. On his right cheek, a half-face iron mask had appeared out of nowhere. The cold metal covered half of his face, casting an eerie silhouette in the lamplight. When he saw Lindilot arrive, Karan bowed respectfully.
"Your Royal Highness. Please forgive my lack of proper etiquette."
"Do not trouble yourself. What happened to you?" Lindilot replied softly, her eyes filled with confusion as she stared at Karan. She could not begin to fathom why the general looked so different. At her question, Karan let out a low laugh, then reached up and gently touched his mask.
"This is the price of my arrogance, Your Royal Highness," the Wind Messenger replied.
"I have been doing a great deal of thinking and reflecting. It is true that I made a grave mistake. But I assure you that I will never repeat it again. This mask is a reminder—a constant symbol of the foolish choice I once made."
"It seems you have recovered," Lindilot said with a warm, comforting smile. Despite standing before a man scorned by every woman in the Sith Empire, she did not display the same blatant disgust as Sidvi.
"Setbacks are an inevitable part of war, but not everyone can overcome them. I was somewhat worried about you, but it seems my concerns were unfounded."
"Thank you for your kind words, Your Royal Highness."
At Lindilot's reply, Karan smiled—but there was nothing suave about his expression this time. Instead, his smile seemed strange, as if something was not quite right.
"So, what brings you to see me today?"
"I am here to discuss our future battle plans with you," Lindilot said quickly.
"My father has made his decision. The Kingdom of Wester must be conquered. Thus, time is no longer on our side. We must devise a proper solution before it is too late."
Upon hearing this, Sidvi's spirits lifted immediately. Karan said nothing more.
"Then let us continue this discussion in the war room," he nodded calmly, then turned and walked out of the tent.
Watching Karan's retreating figure, Sidvi and Lindilot exchanged another puzzled glance. In the past, Karan would have showered Lindilot with endless flattery as soon as he saw her. But today, he had not uttered a single unnecessary word. If he had been avoiding going outside because of his facial injury, then why was he now taking the initiative to leave his tent? There was no denying that the Wind Messenger had grown very strange indeed.
But though they had their doubts, neither woman voiced them aloud. They soon followed Karan to the war room. The chamber was quiet and empty, save for a single servant who was busy tidying up the room.
"You may leave now," Sidvi said, casting a cold glance at the servant, who was in the middle of organizing the documents on the table. But at that moment, the servant looked up, her eyes curious as she stared at the three figures before her.
She then broke into a most elegant smile, set down the papers in her hands, and bowed deeply to them.
"Ah, you must be General Sidvi and General Karan. And this lady is… I am truly astonished. I never imagined that Her Royal Highness Princess Lindilot would grace us with her presence in person. No wonder the security here is so tight."
"Who are you?!"
At these words, Sidvi's expression changed drastically. She quickly stepped in front of Lindilot, her four swords simultaneously letting out a sharp ringing sound as they slid out of their sheaths.
"Allow me to introduce myself first," the young servant said with a smile. She raised both hands to her face and wiped them gently. Beneath a cascade of golden hair, a beautiful young woman's face was revealed.
"I am Charlotte, captain of the special operations unit 'Black Cat' of the Knights of the Apocalypse. This is our first meeting. Greetings to you, the three Gifted Knights."
"The Knights of the Apocalypse?"
Upon hearing this, all three figures froze in shock. They had been about to discuss how to deal with the Knights of the Apocalypse, yet now one of them had walked right into their midst? They immediately sized up the young woman before them. But to their great surprise, they could sense no trace of powerful soul energy from her body—in other words, this young girl possessed no exceptional strength at all. How then had she managed to slip past their defenses and infiltrate this heavily guarded location?
"What is your purpose here?" Lindilot was the first to recover her composure. She placed one hand on Sidvi's shoulder and asked in a deep, steady voice.
"I have come to deliver a message from my master—Blake, the leader of the Knights of the Apocalypse—to the three of you," Charlotte replied with a smile, bowing elegantly once more.
"Barring any unforeseen circumstances, he will not leave Crimson Fortress."
"Does this mean that the Knights of the Apocalypse intend to oppose us to the bitter end?" Karan suddenly spoke up, his eyes cold and emotionless as he stared at the young woman before him.
"That is not a question I am authorized to answer," Charlotte replied, remaining completely unflustered even under his terrifying gaze. Her smile never wavered for a moment.
"I am merely here to deliver my master's message. How you choose to interpret it is entirely up to you. Now that my task is complete…"
As she spoke, Charlotte raised her right hand. On her finger, a beautiful gemstone ring began to glow with a brilliant light.
"Then I shall take my leave."
A burst of magical energy instantly enveloped Charlotte's body, and she vanished completely into thin air.
"Elder sister! She—!!"
"Do not be impulsive, Sidvi."
Despite Charlotte's sudden disappearance, none of the three Gifted Knights made any move to stop her. Though they possessed more than enough strength to capture her, Lindilot had stopped them, allowing the young woman to depart unhindered. She stared thoughtfully at the spot where Charlotte had vanished, musing for a moment before a faint smile appeared on her lips.
"I think I understand what he means," Lindilot muttered to herself. She then lifted her head, her gaze falling on the two Gifted Knights before her.
"Sidvi, Karan. I order you to lead your troops to march on Crimson Fortress immediately. At the same time, instruct the two frontline legions to prepare for battle!"
She issued her command in a clear, decisive voice.