Chapter 99: Divergent Aims
Startled, Aracila instinctively tightened her grip on Damian’s tie.
“Ugh, my lady—hold on,” Damian winced, his brow furrowing as he gently caught her wrist.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Aracila gasped, hastily releasing him. Damian tugged the tie loose, letting out a small cough before steadying his breathing. With a playful glint in his eye, he teased, “I’m not going to meet my end at your hands, am I?”
“No, of course not!” Aracila replied, her face flushing with embarrassment as she studied him with concern. “I’m really sorry. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” he assured her. It had been an accidental tug, not a deliberate choke, and he was genuinely unscathed.
Relief washed over Aracila. She’d vowed to protect him, yet she’d nearly sent him to his doom with her carelessness. “That was truly an accident,” she said earnestly. “But you never know when danger might strike, so you need to stay by my side at all times. Understood?”
Damian let out a soft chuckle at her insistent tone. “Perhaps it’s you I should be wary of, my lady.”
“Damian, I’m serious,” she pressed, her expression unwavering. “Stay close to me. It’s the only way I can keep you safe.”
Her sincerity gave Damian pause, a strange warmth stirring within him. No one had ever been so determined to protect him before, and the feeling was both unfamiliar and oddly comforting, tinged with a shy sort of ticklishness. He rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. “I’ll stay by your side.”
“Good,” Aracila said, her face breaking into a satisfied smile.
***
Upon arriving in Poshan Village, a member of the advance scouting team greeted the expedition and led them to an inn the team had fully reserved. While the others unpacked and settled in, Aracila and Damian went to meet Albi Carter, the scouting team’s leader.
Albi was a stout man with a warm, genial demeanor, though his broad gestures and leisurely pace gave an impression of slight sluggishness. “You have no idea how eagerly we’ve been waiting for you,” he said after brief introductions, his tone carrying a hint of complaint. “The beasts have been creeping down to the villages lately, causing all sorts of trouble.”
Damian responded calmly, “We’d like a detailed report on the current situation.”
“Oh, Ken would be better suited for that,” Albi said, gesturing to the man who had greeted them. Unlike Albi’s robust frame, Ken was wiry and sharp-featured, exuding a brittle intensity, like dry kindling. A native of Poshan and a former member of the village guard, he had joined the scouting team to lend his local expertise.
“Six high-tier beasts have been identified in the Tritus Mountains,” Ken began. “Thankfully, no others have been spotted.”
Six wasn’t an overwhelming number, but the fact that they were all high-tier beasts was cause for concern. A single high-tier beast posed a greater threat than ten lesser ones.
“They were first sighted in the heart of the mountains,” Ken continued, “but now they’ve descended to the hills just behind the village. The residents are so shaken that we’ve gathered them all in a shelter for safety.”
No civilian casualties had occurred yet, but if the high-tier beasts fully descended and swept through the village, that could change. “The first report mentioned only one beast,” Ken added, “but within a month, their numbers grew to six. At first, we thought more had emerged from hiding, but that wasn’t the case.”
“Then what?” Aracila asked.
“They’re splitting,” Ken said gravely. “They’re reproducing by division. If we don’t act soon, their numbers could spiral out of control.”
Aracila and Damian’s expressions darkened. If true, this was a race against time. They needed to eliminate the beasts before they could multiply further.
Aracila turned to Ken. “Do you know their exact location?”
“They’re at the mid-slope of the hill adjacent to the village,” he replied promptly. “I know the terrain well and can guide you.”
Damian followed with his own question. “Are they all gathered in one place?”
“Yes,” Ken confirmed. “These beasts move in a pack, so all six are together.”
That made strategizing simpler. Aracila and Damian quickly agreed to strike the beasts’ stronghold and eliminate them in one fell swoop. Taking them out individually would be futile if they could divide and multiply, prolonging the battle indefinitely.
Their agreement held firm until the next point of contention arose.
“We’ll take the front line,” Aracila declared.
“No, the knights will take the front,” Damian countered.
A clash of wills sparked between them over who would lead the vanguard. The front line was undeniably more dangerous, and both were fiercely determined to claim it.
“Damian, have you forgotten what I said?” Aracila said, her voice firm. “Don’t be stubborn. Take the rear.”
Her insistence stemmed from the very real possibility that Damian could be killed by a beast’s attack if he took the front. But Damian was equally resolute. He couldn’t bear the thought of sending her into the most perilous position just to avoid an uncertain fate.
As their disagreement showed no signs of resolution, Albi stepped in. “Both of you are brimming with passion and determination,” he said, his tone conciliatory. “One of you is a sword master, the other a prime candidate for the next mage tower lord. Either way, the front line will be in capable hands. So, how about we settle it like this?”
Albi clapped his hands sharply, drawing Aracila and Damian’s attention. With a solemn air, he declared, “We’ll settle this fairly with a game of rock-paper-scissors.”
He quickly added, “The winner takes the front line.”
Aracila and Damian slowly turned to face each other. Both were resolute in their determination to lead the vanguard, and convincing the other to yield seemed impossible. In that case, Albi’s suggestion of leaving it to chance didn’t sound like such a bad idea.
“What do you think of Mr. Carter’s idea?” Aracila asked.
“Fine by me,” Damian replied.
The two prepared for the game with the gravity of duelists facing off. A strange tension hung in the air, causing Albi to swallow hard involuntarily. Ken, on the other hand, watched the scene with an impassive expression.
Aracila thrust out her fist, flashing a sly grin. “Just so you know, Damian, I’m going with scissors.”
Her sudden psychological gambit caused a flicker of uncertainty in Damian’s eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. “In that case, I’ll go with rock.”
“One round decides it,” Aracila said.
“Agreed.”
They raised their hands in unison, moving to the rhythm of an unspoken countdown. Damian, true to his word, played rock. He glanced across at Aracila’s hand.
Despite her claim of scissors, her fingers were fully extended—paper.
“Woo! I win!” Aracila cheered, waving her hand triumphantly.
Damian’s jaw dropped, a stunned silence overtaking him as if he’d been struck on the back of the head. Watching her bounce with glee, he slowly found his voice. “…You said you’d play scissors.”
“The world rewards those who play smart,” Aracila quipped, folding three fingers to flash a victorious V-sign with a proud smile.
Damian, still reeling, protested, “It’s inefficient for mages to take the front and knights to stay in the rear!”
“Sometimes, the least efficient choice yields the greatest results,” Aracila retorted with a scoff. She tossed her hair back with a haughty air. “Besides, you agreed to settle this with rock-paper-scissors. Don’t try to back out now—I won’t let you.”
Damian’s lips twitched, but no words came. With a heavy sigh, he let his shoulders slump, his expression one of dazed resignation. Aracila, noting the shadow that fell over his face, gave his broad shoulder a light pat.
“Don’t look so down,” she said. “It’s not about losing credit. Just think of it as supporting me.”
“You think I’m upset about credit?” Damian replied, gently lifting her hand from his shoulder. He met her gaze, his voice low and earnest. “I’m worried about you, my lady. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”
Aracila froze, her breath catching at the sincerity in his words.
“It’s not just you who wants to protect someone,” he continued. “I want to keep you safe too.”
For a moment, Aracila was speechless, her lips parting soundlessly as his words sank in. Before she could respond, Albi’s booming laugh shattered the moment. “Hahaha! What a heartwarming sight, this marital devotion!”
His tactless interruption jolted Aracila back to reality, her ears ringing from his hearty voice. “So, how about it? Shall we switch the front line to the Red Hawk Knights?” Albi asked.
“No!” Aracila declared, pushing Damian’s hand away. “The mages will take the front.”
Damian, who had hoped he might sway her, felt a pang of disappointment. In the end, unable to change her mind, they finalized the plan to attack the beasts in two days.
***
The mansion in the capital, hastily arranged by the ducal couple for Oscar, was impressively grand for something secured on short notice. They had insisted that the future heir to the Vandemir duchy couldn’t possibly reside in a shabby or cramped place.
Stepping inside, Oscar spread his arms wide, taking a deep breath and exhaling with a radiant smile. “Yes, this is it! The air of freedom!”
Back in the ducal estate, he had endured constant constraints and pressures from his family. Though he had come to the capital with a purpose, the prospect of living alone here filled him with unbridled excitement.
Perfect! he thought. I’ll seduce Lady Hugo, use her as an excuse to stay in the capital, and live it up.
Since whirlwind engagements were rare, a prolonged courtship could buy him more time in the city. Humming a tune, Oscar flopped onto the bed with a grin.
First, I’ll edge out that milksop beside Lady Hugo. Play the part of a smitten suitor just right, and she’ll fall for me.
He had already done his homework on Eric and Iris. Their relationship was new, not yet deeply rooted, leaving plenty of room for Oscar to make his move. Though Iris had rejected him once, he was convinced it was only because she didn’t know him well enough.
Compared to that weakling, I’m the better catch in every way, he thought, grinding his teeth at the memory of being overpowered by Eric’s grip—a humiliation he hadn’t forgotten. He’d steal Iris from Eric and rub it in his face.
As he reveled in his resolve, a maid knocked and entered. “Young master, I’ll assist with your wardrobe,” she said.
Oscar’s eyes narrowed, scanning her up and down. Her face was unfamiliar, unlike the maids at the ducal estate, and a sly smirk tugged at his lips. By nature, he held a firm belief that “the newest girl is always the prettiest.”
“Not bad,” he said, his voice low. “You’re pretty cute.”
“Pardon? Are you talking to me?” the maid asked, her shoulders tensing as her eyes widened in surprise.
Oscar nodded, his smile turning slick. “Of course. Who else here is as cute as you? I didn’t expect to find such an adorable maid.”
The maid’s cheeks flushed. Though Oscar’s intentions were far from pure, his handsome features lent his words a disarming charm. He sauntered over, taking her hand and gently pulling her closer.
His ultimate goal was Iris, but a little detour like this? Perfectly acceptable. After all, he was destined to become the Duke of Vandemir.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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