Daniela sprang to her feet, pressing both hands against her cheeks. She paced near the bed, flustered, her mind in turmoil.
‘No way, that crazy bastard isn’t thinking of touching me, is he? Ugh, if I had known this would happen, I would’ve made it a condition that he couldn’t lay a hand on me!’
She had acted too carelessly, assuming everything would be fine since the real heroine of this world—and Ashid’s one true love, Camellia—would appear in three months.
Nervous, Daniela bit down on her lower lip. What would she do if Ashid actually tried to touch her? How could she escape from a villainous duke who seemed impossible to kill? Just as her thoughts spiraled out of control, a commotion erupted outside the door. She heard voices conversing, followed by a knock.
“Madam, are you inside? Pardon me, but may I enter?”
“Ah, yes!”
Daniela answered hastily. Moments later, a maid entered the room. It was Baroness Mela Schwitz, the head maid of this mansion, whom Daniela had briefly introduced herself to during her bath earlier. Mela glanced at Daniela with an awkward expression before speaking cautiously.
“…I’ve come at this late hour because I have something to inform you, Madam.”
“Inform me…? Oh, right. Go ahead.”
“It’s just… His Grace has asked me to tell you that ‘due to unforeseen circumstances, the wedding night will not take place today.'”
“What?”
Daniela reflexively responded with a shrill voice. She was surprised, but more than anything, it was such welcome news that she almost couldn’t believe it. As if in an attempt to explain, Mela quickly added,
“Of course, I understand that this must be a great disappointment to you, Madam. However, the matter is truly urgent… We hope for your understanding.”
“Ah, ah. Of course, I understand.”
Daniela nodded quickly. At her response, Mela’s tense expression brightened instantly.
“My goodness, you’re so understanding! To be honest, I expected you to be furious… It seems gossip really can’t be trusted!”
“H-ha… haha…”
“Oh dear, I shouldn’t be chatting like this. You must be exhausted. Please get some rest, Madam. I’ll take my leave now.”
Mela hurriedly bowed and exited the bedroom.
Once the hallway outside fell silent, Daniela clenched her fists and cheered silently.
‘What a relief!’
With a beaming face, she flopped onto the bed. Now that her worries had disappeared, the exhaustion from an entire day of tension suddenly washed over her. She sat up again, brushing off the rose petals scattered across the blanket, then slipped under the covers and properly went to sleep.
After leaving the capital with his knights, Ashid headed straight for the northern fortress.
The horses, strengthened with magic, galloped at a speed far beyond that of ordinary steeds, crossing one northern gate after another.
Before long, as dawn’s faint light illuminated the sky, the walls of Greenhorn, a northern territory, appeared before them. From within the castle, distant, chilling screams echoed.
Ashid spurred his horse forward and shouted to Lowell, who was galloping behind him.
“We’re breaking through the gates and storming inside, Sir Lowell!”
“Yes, Your Grace!”
Lowell responded with a shout, drawing his sword. A dazzling aura emanated from the blade. In an instant, he overtook Ashid, charging ahead and swinging his sword at the towering gate.
With a thunderous crash, the sturdy gate split diagonally and crumbled. Lowell led the charge, followed closely by Ashid and the knights behind him, stepping over the shattered remains of the gate.
And then, a scene from hell unfolded before them.
The once orderly buildings lining the main street had been reduced to ruins, with black smoke rising from the few still intact. Beneath them lay the disfigured corpses of civilians and soldiers alike, slaughtered by the swords and arrows of the Lesinia Principality’s knights.
Desperate pleas for mercy rang out from all directions, mingling with the sickening sound of arrows slicing through the air and the battle cries of knights clashing with enemies.
Ashid stood motionless, his icy gaze sweeping over the scene. His deep navy-blue eyes gleamed with an indescribable fury and hatred. Slowly, he turned his head, staring at the lifeless body of a young child at his horse’s feet—her eyes forever unclosed.
Silently, Ashid dismounted and removed his cloak, gently covering the child’s body as if tucking her into bed.
Then, he climbed back onto his horse, unsheathing his sword and speaking in a chilling voice.
“Charge. Not a single one of the Lesinian knights who dared to trample my land and slaughter my people shall be left alive. Understood?”
“Yes, Your Grace!”
The knights roared in unison.
They surged forward, racing toward the smoke-filled battlefield where screams and battle cries intertwined.
Before long, they reached a mansion with all its outer walls reduced to rubble—the garrison of Sir Pincher and his knights, who had called for reinforcements. They were locked in fierce combat with the Lesinian knights.
Ashid and his knights immediately plunged into the fray. Their blades gleamed menacingly as they cut through the enemy ranks.
“Aagh!”
“D-damn it! It’s Grand Duke Alberic! The Northern Devil has arrived with reinforcements! Report this to the Marquis immediately!”
“No, no! Spare me, please…! Aaagh!”
Cries of despair and horror erupted among the Lesinian knights. Their final words became their dying breaths.
Merciless, Ashid and his knights slaughtered them without hesitation. Ashid slashed through one enemy after another without pause.
Just then, a knight clad in the same uniform as Ashid galloped toward him. It was Sir Pincher, the vice-captain of the Fourth Order of Knights and the one responsible for defending the northern fortress in Ashid’s stead.
His youthful face, just past twenty, and light brown hair were drenched in enemy blood. He bowed respectfully to Ashid before speaking.
“You’ve come, Your Grace!”
“Where is that damned Marquis Carwin?”
“He has occupied the Greenhorn mansion with his elite troops! It seems he planned to declare this territory as part of Lesinia at the grand ballroom once they claimed victory!”
“I see.”
Ashid gave a curt nod, then shouted to the surrounding knights.
“We’re infiltrating the mansion now! Sir Pincher, Sir Lowell, and the First and Fourth Orders, follow me!”
“Yes, Your Grace!”
The knights answered in unison, charging forward behind Ashid as he leaped over the collapsed walls and entered the mansion.
They slaughtered every enemy soldier and knight in their path, leaving only corpses behind.
Eventually, Ashid and his knights reached the grand ballroom, where Marquis Carwin and his elite troops had taken their final stand. The Marquis, his face drained of color, sat trembling on the throne, surrounded by Lesinian elite knights.
Their swords were drawn, but they were already vastly outnumbered. The Empire’s knights swiftly overwhelmed them.
“Ugh… ugh…”
Marquis Carwin groaned, his body quaking in terror. Now, he was the only living Lesinian left in the ballroom.
Ashid leaped from his horse without hesitation. He climbed onto the platform, blood dripping from his sword, and pointed it at Carwin’s throat.
“If you were going to go mad, you should have done it gracefully, Marquis Carwin. Did you truly think this pathetic force could seize my land?”
“You devil! If you hadn’t violated our borders first, this never would have happened!”
Ashid smirked mockingly.
“Oh, please. It was your side that invaded first. Your son led the raiders, pillaging my land, enslaving children, and massacring my people.”
“You bastard…!”
