Chapter 302: Killed Too Quickly
Selva Thorne walked to his tent, and Eldon and Sirnis followed behind him.
"Do you believe that person’s words, my lord?" Eldon asked.
After a minute of silence, Selva answered, "I do not know, Eldon. That person has the power to kill all of us, so I do not see why he would lie to us about being the prince. At the same time, his claim of the princess still being alive in the cursed mountains is too absurd for me to believe..."
"It does indeed sound too far-fetched, considering no one else has managed to do so," Sirnis added, her voice soft.
Eldon nodded, "I think the same, but if he wasn’t related to the kingdom, why would he fight from our side?"
"He may have some other motive," Sirnis commented while replaying everything that had happened within the strategy tent in her mind.
"But why would he act then? Lord Selva acknowledged his power. Do you think such a person needs to scheme?"
Selva shook his head. "There is no point arguing with each other. For the moment, it doesn’t matter if he is the person he speaks to be or not; what matters is that he is a strong ally that we cannot afford to lose."
The commanders nodded.
A few steps later, Selva turned his head towards Eldon and said, "Eldon, I want you to go to the palace and inform the king about Bael Leonara."
Eldon stopped and struck his chestplate with his right fist. "As you command, my lord!"
Selva smiled. "Go immediately."
Eldon turned around and strode towards the stable.
Selva and Sirnis entered the tent, and just as they did so, Sirnis wrapped her arms around him and loosened his armor, asking in a lovely voice, "Are you tired, my lord?"
He took off his chestplate and placed it on the table as he answered with an amused smile, "I am not."
Sirnis’s lips curled upwards, her hands moved to remove his gauntlets, and she whispered in a soft, cotton-like voice, "Do you wish to be?"
A charming smile appeared on Selva’s young face, and he said, "What if I do?"
As Selva finished taking off his armor, Sirnis stepped back with a grin and answered while gripping the hilt of her sword, "Then we can have a spar."
Aware of her theatrics, Selva stepped closer and whispered in her ear, "I wonder what kind of spar you really wish to have with me."
Sirnis staggered backwards and stuttered, "I-I h-have to go, m-my lord!"
With that, she ran out of the tent, unaware that her face was comically red.
Selva let out a chuckle and walked over to the chest near the tent’s wall.
He opened the chest and began to look for the attire to wear.
"Do you like that girl?" a heavy voice asked from behind.
"I do," Selva answered without looking back.
"Hoh. Are you not ashamed?"
His brows furrowed. "What should I be ashamed of?"
"For wasting your time to get into the skirt of an enemy."
Realization bloomed in Selva’s eyes, and he said, "We do not know if she is an enemy or not."
"Haha! Is that what you tell yourself, Selva Thorne? I hope your brother is not as lacking as you."
Selva’s expression hardened, and he muttered through gritted teeth, "How many times have I told you to keep him away from all of this?"
"It seems you have forgotten your place, child. Be sure to remember you are nothing more than a guard dog that the master has left to take care of his problems."
At those words, Selva’s face fell dark, and he asked in a low voice, "What is it that you want from me?"
"Someone strong has come to this place."
’Strong? How powerful is Bael actually that they consider him strong?’ Selva thought in surprise.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked as he finally decided on an attire and put it on.
"I simply want you not to do something stupid."
"Understood," Selva nodded and turned towards the voice.
But the only thing remaining of that person was his departing words.
"I hope it’s not that barbarian named Haden."
"Did he just say ’Haden’?" Selva blinked a few times and whispered with a low chuckle,
"So he really is the prince."
—
At the duke’s camp.
Kane, Riven, Drace, Vale — the duke’s nebulae knelt with their heads lowered to the ground, and their eyes closed in fear of Duke Clifford, who wasn’t even there yet.
Before them was an ornate chair with a dark lantern on it.
The lantern was strange because instead of shedding light, it absorbed the light around it, and its flame was utterly dark, as if made by shadows.
Occasionally, faint cries came out of the lantern, and each cry sent a shiver down their spines.
"M-Master..." Kane, the strongest of the four, stammered.
A few moments later, a shadow fell onto all of them, and a piercing voice rang in their ears, "Why have you returned so early... and where is Tristram?"
Hearing his question, they shuddered, and Drace forced out the answer, "T-Tristram is d-dead."
Suddenly, the tent turned cold, and the duke asked in a sharp voice, "Are you saying that the four of you were unable to save a single person?"
Their faces darkened even further, and Vale mumbled in fright and sorrow, "H-He was killed too quickly..."
"Killed too quickly...?" The duke whispered in a confused tone.
Riven nodded somberly and informed, "That person was stronger than all of us combined."
"How come I do not know of such a person? Tell me his name this instant."
All of them trembled as they remembered Rion and his words.
"His name is Bael Leonara, and he had declared that if Master doesn’t go to meet him, he will come to meet you..."
"Bael Leonara," the duke whispered.
An amused chuckle escaped from his lips, and he commented, "A barbarian dare command a duke, how amusing."
