“Advance!”
Boom, boom, boom.
The castle gates lowered onto the moat, and nearly two thousand troops began marching over it.
Ninety-eight knights, seven hundred and thirty crossbow cavalrymen, and nine hundred and twenty infantrymen.
While the force was not to be taken lightly, it was clearly smaller than the army that attacked Tomodo Castle just two months earlier.
Attacking Bifrost’s main castle with such a force would have been akin to suicide under any other circumstances.
‘Yes. If it were any other time.’
In the midst of the nervous leadership, Logan alone was smiling.
“Are you really not worried at all?”
“How many troops could possibly be left in Bifrost castle now? With Duke Yordan issuing a total mobilization order, they’d be too scared to defy it.”
“And yet, here we are, blatantly ignoring the warning of that fearsome man.”
Padric spoke with a stiff face, but Logan’s confidence was unabating.
“Ah, but our situation is different. Didn’t I tell you? Even father agreed.”
“……”
“Father. Please be optimistic. For the first time in two hundred years, there’s a chance to reclaim our ancestors’ land. And a superhuman facing a major battle for power wouldn’t move easily, at least not for a mere land skirmish in the frontier. And if he moves…”
“Then it would be after the fall of Waltermaim, so no need to worry.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Padric nodded slightly, though worry still clouded his face.
“What if the Second Prince’s faction wins the civil war?”
“We’ll need to support the First Prince then.”
“And if the opposite turns out, they’ll reach out to us instead?”
“Exactly. Regardless, the civil war will conclude, and no matter the outcome, Duke Yordan will not be able to act on his warning. If we can take Bifrost castle and become a key card for either faction. You understood and agreed, didn’t you?”
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, but Padric’s voice was more solemn than ever as he continued to speak.
“You do realize the flaw in your plan?”
“……Yes?”
“We’re assuming the civil war won’t end while we grow in power by taking Bifrost. You’re so sure this civil war will last a considerably long time, aren’t you?”
At that, Logan’s face tensed.
History showed that civil wars within a country rarely lasted year after year.
The three-year-long Grandia Civil War was an exceedingly rare case.
Padric’s doubt was inevitable, yet it was something Logan had overlooked.
“Ah… Well… Even the current state of war doesn’t look like it’s going to resolve easily, right?”
“It doesn’t seem like you’re suggesting that based solely on the state of war.”
“I’m still sensing it, but isn’t it a definite possibility? One worth betting our fates on.”
“Is it really just a hunch?”
“……What do you mean?”
“No, never mind. Sigh… We’ve made the decision, let’s see it through.”
Padric looked up to the clear sky.
The cold air seeped into his lungs, bringing the deepening winter to his core.
With his eyes closed, the sharp chill reached deep into his mind, and the image of his son seen not long ago in the royal palace emerged.
The image of his son smiling coldly upon witnessing the death of Larry Kretch.
‘Surely not…… right?’
Actually, it wouldn’t matter if it were true.
Whether or not his son accelerated the civil war was irrelevant.
One way or another, the boy acted for the family.
Although Logan had often felt that his son was hiding something, he believed in that above all else.
So instead of stirring up potential discord, it was better to support him.
Now there was only one thing to think about.
The ancestral land.
The lost splendor.
The chance to retrieve it all was drawing near.
And when the time came…
“Ha… Whether I’m the mad one, or you are, or if it’s the world, I don’t know. But now that it’s come to this, let’s give it our all.”
While Padric might not have known what was truly on his father’s mind, the absence of anxiety in his watching eyes was evident.
And so with a light heart, Logan could respond.
“Yes!”
* * *
“Surrender and open your gates peacefully. We shall spare your lives.”
“Damn it! What on earth are they so confident about?!”
Lentor, the current captain of Bifrost and senior knight, spat out curses as he viewed the approaching enemy from atop the castle walls.
The defenders of Bifrost were left with only twenty-two knights and around five hundred soldiers.
Facing the nearly two thousand enemy troops, their chance of defense was virtually nil.
Had the enemy declared war, they might have mustered a minimum force from other castles.
At least conscripted people to be fodder.
‘But what’s the point now?’
Retreat was not an option either.
[The Perec government shall arrive. Hold the fort until then at all costs!]
Notably, his lord’s communication didn’t mention that the main force was returning.
Yet they were told to hold the fort no matter what.
Was it a genuine expression of faith, or had he been abandoned? He could barely discern his lord’s true intention.
However.
“Hold on! Reinforcements will come! Defend this place at all cost!”
Lentor urged the soldiers, opting to concentrate all the knights at the southern wall instead of dispersing them to counter invaders from other directions.
‘We would be easily taken down if the knights were scattered. We must hold here!’
It would take a significant amount of time for the invaders to deal with soldiers stationed on the east and west walls.
If the knightly force remained intact, they could launch a counterattack once reinforcements arrived.
It was a shameless strategy, if it could even be called that.
To make things worse.
Whinnying.
The northern gate swung open and a grand six-horse carriage rushed out.
In the midst of it all, six knights guarding the carriage galloped off, a sight engrained in the eyes of the soldiers, sapping their morale.
Facing the demoralizing scene, Lentor shouted even louder.
“Look! The lords and young masters have escaped safely! We have nothing to worry about now! Let’s face the enemy and fight to the end!”
What are you worried about? Our lives?
Blissfully unaware of the absurd glances around him, Lentor continued to passionately preach morale-sapping exhortations.
“Charge!”
With just two leaps, Logan had scaled the eastern walls.
The path he chose showed no sign of knights—a mere pass for soldiers.
Swish!
“Argh!”
The moment he reached the top, his sword sliced through, and screams erupted.
His strike killed the soldiers before they could even cry out, but their comrades shrieked in terror.
And with that, the screams joined the crushing attacks of the knights who had followed Logan, spreading across the entire wall.
The men responsible for rallying and defending Bifrost’s soldiers—none of them were present.
Predictably, therefore.
“Kneel! Those who surrender will be spared!”
Most soldiers abandoned their weapons and slumped to the ground in response to the shouting amid one-sided slaughter by the overpowering knights.
“Please, spare our lives!”
Despite the disheartening surrender of its soldiers, it was an inevitable choice.
With that, the eastern gate effectively fell.
The ease of the outcome was strangely anticlimactic.
But Logan wasted no time and immediately gave the order.
“First group, descend and open the gate! The rest, follow me to assault the knights in the south!”
Looking across the wall, Logan observed his father had similarly secured the western wall.
‘With such disparity in strength, no strategy is needed, but isn’t this way too easy?’
Well, the enemy’s incompetence made it easier for them.
“Let’s end this here!”
Logan charged like a gale toward the southern wall.
Bifrost was much larger than Tomodo Castle, but its very size highlighted the enemy’s meager forces.
In that moment, he heard an audacious challenge.
“I, Lentor of Bifrost, a senior knight, challenge you to a knight’s duel! If you are a knight, accept without shame!”
Too shameful, really.
Why should Logan’s face burn at the enemy’s brash words?
He smirked and halted.
He didn’t particularly want to indulge such folly.
Once the opened eastern and western gates allowed allied soldiers to flood in, Logan could focus on the buffoon in question.
“Fire!”
Quarrels rained upon the exposed broadside of the wall, where twenty-two enemy knights were gathered without cover.
Tatatatang.
“Cowardly…”
“Hm. And you’re foolish.”
Swish!
After his peers fell like porcupined corpses, Lentor died by Logan’s blade.
Logan decapitated the fallen enemy, raising the head high and shouting.
“We have won!”
The land of ancestors, lost two hundred years ago during an exodus, was reclaimed by the Mclains with startling ease.
* * *
“Great work, everyone.”
Padric’s voice resonated calmly, yet it was saturated with uncontainable passion.
The quivering hand caressing the chair’s armrest of the great hall’s high seat made it clear.
The lords, sensing their leader’s sentiments, enveloped the great hall in a gentle silence.
Within that quietude, Padric’s gaze swept across the hall now adorned with blazing flames instead of the rose emblem wrought from fire.
It was not a normal victory. Even with the enemy’s main forces still abroad, for now, they had won.
They had regained the land of their ancestors.
Struggling to contain his surging emotions, Padric looked over to the knights who stood arrayed throughout the hall.
Then he began.
“We of Mclains have finally reclaimed our ancestral lands. This belongs to all of you here, and it’s my honor to have such vassals.”
His trembling voice echoed softly in all directions.
“This gathering not only celebrates your achievements in creating this glorious moment, but also serves to mourn our fallen comrades who enabled this victory. I will not forget. The knights…”
One by one, the names of the fallen knights fell from Padric’s lips.
With each name announced, the knights’ heads bowed slowly in the solemn hall.
Among them were long-time servants of the Mclain knighthood, as well as defectors from Teslon and Sylvan.
The camaraderie, forged through numerous battles, unified them regardless of their origins.
“…I will etch their names in my heart and remember them forever. Their loyalty and sacrifice will not be in vain, and I will ensure their families are rewarded with a glorious future.”
As the last knight’s name was called.
“Allegiance!”
Thud.
“For Mclain’s honor!”
Thud.
“I will serve as the undying sword of the flame for the rest of my life!”
Thud.
The resounding stomp that shook the great hall resonated with a strong tremor that spread to everyone present.
Still lingering from the reverberation of that deep sound.
“Let me shoulder the memory and comfort of our sacrifices that brought this glory. As for the impending future duties, it would be best discussed with the future of Mclain.”
Padric’s eyes shifted toward his eldest son standing right below him.
“Father. It might be better for you to address them.”
On a day of joy, Logan waved off the honor, allowing his father to fully bask in the happiness.
“But when we drove out Teslon, I was simply proud. When we built Mclain Town, I was truly impressed. That’s when I realized you had surpassed my expectations. A delightful miscalculation.”
“Father…”
“And from Sylvan up till securing Bifrost, you’ve been at the helm of our house, not me. Not to mention, the crisis isn’t over yet. As the focus of our family, you should inspire our knights.”
There was no point in further protest.
Logan, taking a deep breath, faced the prostrate knights.
“…You may guess, but turbulent times lie ahead. Mclain will not settle here. The wings of this era’s storm will propel us to greater heights, and I hope that you will become the wings that support us!”
“Loyalty!!”
“The temporary victory today will be delayed until it’s a firm triumph. Everyone, don’t let your guard down yet!”
“Yes! Understood!”
“We have won! And we shall continue to win in the future! All the glory will be shared with all of you!”
With Logan’s hopes flooding the great hall.
“Mclain’s honor!!”
The echo filled the hall with an even greater fervor.