Gide was a chaotic melting pot of all kinds of people. Merchants mingled with mercenaries hired as their guards, and criminals on the run from the law swarmed the streets.
Whispers followed Yuri and Hernando wherever they went. The word “Briol” floated faintly through the crowd.
The rumors had already spread.
“The only reason the city of Gide still stands is because of the orcs,” Hernando rambled.
“There’s a talisman market here. Eastern goods, rare curiosities you’ve never even heard of—they’re all traded here. And it’s the orcs who bring them in. The orcs loot treasures from the East, then bandits and hunters snatch those goods from the orcs and sell them. Fascinating, isn’t it?”
“So that’s why you tagged along?”
“Hey, don’t be so harsh. I’m just tagging along on the side. Let’s check it out together later.”
As they walked, the talisman market came into view—a long row of stalls selling mysterious, unidentifiable items.
Hernando kept inspecting the goods.
“That’s a totem. Orc magic is sealed inside.”
“Does it actually work?”
“Just a little. You can feel the magic. It’s mainly used to induce a state of excitement.”
“Like a stimulant?”
“Exactly.”
“Like a war drug?”
“Sort of, but weaker. There aren’t many true artifacts here…”
“And this one?”
“Just junk.”
The stall owner’s face twisted in displeasure.
Seeing the man’s rough expression, Hernando cleared his throat and slipped behind Yuri.
“Maybe it has some artistic value.”
“Looks like a kid’s toy to me.”
“Right?”
The owner suddenly shouted.
“Get lost!”
The two fled immediately.
Yuri carefully examined the stalls as they wandered through the market. She was looking for something specific.
“Can’t find it.”
“Looks like the bandits already bought everything.”
When Yuri first raided the bandits, one of their lookouts wore a red gemstone necklace.
She had interrogated the bandit leader to find out its purpose.
It was a lure for orcs.
For some unknown reason, when orcs sensed the energy of the jewel, they would suddenly go berserk and charge.
They were using their men as bait to confirm the orcs’ approach.
After hearing this, Yuri had kicked the leader mercilessly.
By now, that guy was probably in the hands of Raymond and the Gide city guard.
“They said they got it from the talisman market in Gide…”
“If even lowly bandits know about it, then everyone else probably bought it already.”
There were plenty of odd trinkets, but nothing truly useful.
With no luck, they left the talisman market.
On the other side, the entertainment district stretched out. Since the city wasn’t large, restaurants and inns were clustered together.
Briol soldiers patrolled the area.
“Wait, there’s a gambling den over there,” Hernando pointed toward a tavern. Through the half-open door, they could see cards being dealt.
“Looks like our soldiers are playing too.”
“Really?”
Yuri frowned.
“Briol soldiers gambling? I can’t just stand by and let that happen.”
“Right?”
“I’ll deal with it myself.”
“Let’s go.”
Hernando clenched his fist.
“We can’t have a unit without discipline.”
“True enough.”
Sybilla finished her urgent meeting with the lord of Gide and rose from her seat.
The knights were waiting for her.
“Is the meeting over?”
“Yes.”
Sybilla nodded, her face expressionless.
She maintained a cordial relationship with the knights, but they weren’t exactly close.
The knights were loyal to Larsson, the heir to the throne and her brother.
“And what about that prince of Briol?”
“He went ahead.”
“I see.”
“Fennec, the main force is holding up fine, right?”
“Of course.”
Fennec nodded. With his sleek features, he led the knights dispatched to the allied army.
“Having such a weirdo as commander—Briol’s reputation as a land of knights is a thing of the past.”
Sybilla said nothing, but Fennec’s adjutant agreed.
“Exactly.”
“Dressing however they want, I’d believe they were just wandering mercenaries.”
“Their behavior was even worse.”
“I hope we don’t have to fight alongside the Briol army. They’d only get in the way.”
Sybilla pointed out.
“Speaking ill isn’t good.”
“Whatever.”
Fennec shrugged and continued.
Sybilla was nominally the commander of the Holy Kingdom’s forces. The knights followed him.
“After this orc extermination, I have a feeling Briol will lose a prince.”
“That’s harsh. Watch your words.”
Fennec smirked.
“Yes, understood.”
“Let’s head back to the lodgings.”
They had booked the most expensive inn in Gide. It was only slightly cleaner than the others, but far better than the barracks.
As the knights stepped onto the street, the townsfolk’s gazes followed them.
“What a filthy city…”
Fennec muttered.
To a man used to the lavish life of the Holy Kingdom’s capital, Gide looked like nothing more than a stable.
“No, worse than a stable.”
“Exactly. Our horses are cleaner than this place.”
“People here are worse than horses.”
The knights chuckled.
Sybilla ignored their voices and walked ahead.
The real filth was their attitude. The world was full of abandoned places and people forced to live in them.
Just as they weren’t born noble for any special reason, neither were the residents of this city.
Feeling ashamed of the title of knight bestowed upon them, Sybilla made her way to the inn.
“What’s this?”
Fennec’s voice turned sour.
Suddenly, the streets had grown crowded, teeming with people.
“The Briol army,” the adjutant explained quickly, eyes scanning the area.
“They’re unruly. Looks like they let their soldiers roam inside the city.”
“Soldiers should stay outside. No discipline at all.”
Sybilla said.
“Don’t cause trouble. Go straight to the inn.”
“I think they’re the ones causing trouble.”
“They’re foreign soldiers. If a conflict breaks out, we won’t let it slide.”
“Yes, yes. Don’t worry. We’ll just have a light drink among ourselves.”
Sybilla went up to the inn first.
Fennec gathered a few knights he was close to.
The adjutant spoke up.
“I’ll bring the drinks. There probably isn’t any decent liquor anyway.”
“Good plan.”
They headed out in a group. The Briol soldiers glanced at them.
“The Briol troops are disrespectful.”
Fennec muttered.
In the Holy Kingdom, commoners never dared meet nobles’ eyes. But Briol soldiers looked at them as if they were mere passersby.
“Like attracts like, I guess.”
“That’s true.”
Fennec chuckled at the adjutant’s words.
The third prince of Briol they’d met earlier was hardly princely—his dress and manners lacked any dignity.
What would happen when such a man faced the orcs?
“Really pathetic. Heh…”
Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted nearby.
The noise was so intense that Fennec flinched.
“What’s all the commotion?”
Sounds of raucous laughter spilled from the tavern—laughter, jeers, and the pounding of fists on tables.
Fennec frowned.
“Check it out.”
The adjutant quickly peeked inside and returned.
“It’s a gambling den.”
“What?”
“The Briol soldiers are playing cards. The stakes are high; a crowd has gathered around one table.”
“These bastards…”
Fennec smiled coldly. Gambling was forbidden in the Holy Kingdom.
“As knights of the Holy Kingdom, we can’t just ignore this.”
Fennec removed his helmet, tucked it under his arm, and strode toward the tavern, throwing the door wide open.
But no one paid him any mind.
“…”
A crowd pressed around a table.
The tavern owner grinned, carrying beer mugs nonstop, while the soldiers shouted every time a card was flipped.
“Hey.”
Fennec spoke, but his voice was drowned out by the noise.
“Can’t you hear me…?”
At that moment, the game’s outcome was decided.
The man with his back to Fennec jumped up, raising both hands.
The soldiers erupted in cheers, while others at the table buried their heads in their hands.
Watching this, Fennec’s expression twisted.
This time, he gathered his mana and shouted again.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
His voice boomed through the tavern.
Silence fell instantly.
Fennec exhaled deeply, savoring the quiet, then stomped his boot on the floor.
“I asked what you think you’re doing.”
His voice dropped lower.
He glared at the table and continued.
“Do you all think this is some kind of vacation? No matter it’s a foreign land, I won’t overlook this. Do you think the allied army is a joke…?”
As Fennec spoke, the man standing with his back to the entrance turned toward him.
A rare shock of jet-black hair came into view.
“I know…”
Fennec’s voice faltered.
The face staring back at him was exactly the same as the third prince of Briol they’d met earlier.
Fennec fell silent.
“What did you say?”
The man who had just won big, Yuri, tilted her head.
“What was that you just said?”
Fennec was flustered, unable to respond.
He never imagined a prince would be playing cards with soldiers.
He kept staring, wondering if this was some stranger who just happened to look exactly like the prince.
Yuri grew annoyed.
“What’s your name?”
The adjutant quickly stepped forward.
“Oh, I think there’s been a misunderstanding, Third Prince.”
“Tch…”
Yuri gave Fennec a disdainful once-over.
It was a humiliating moment for Fennec. Something stirred deep inside him.
He didn’t care about Sybilla, but he couldn’t let some foreign Third Prince look down on him.
Taking a steadying breath, Fennec put on a cold expression.
“Third Prince.”
“Got something else to say?”
“We’re on our way to war.”
“So?”
“This kind of attitude harms not only you, Third Prince, but also the soldiers. Without discipline, everyone will just die meaningless deaths.”
Fennec’s gaze landed on Yuri’s hands—clean, without a single callus.
No wonder.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
“What you should be holding isn’t cards, but a sword. I wonder if you’ve ever truly gripped one.”
“You bastard, this is—”
Yuri gave a hollow laugh and looked at him.
Fennec found that look irritating.
It was the kind of expression someone wears when sizing up a pathetic opponent, wondering what to do with them. That should have been his expression, not Fennec’s.
Yuri, still scrutinizing him, muttered under his breath.
“Look at this painted-up fool, jabbering away…”
A few soldiers nearby couldn’t hold back their laughter.
Fennec’s face flushed.
He cared a lot about his appearance and often applied a light white cream.
“It shows. Hey, do you really need makeup when you’re off to war like some big shot?”
“Watch the personal attacks.”
“What did you just say to me?”
Yuri stepped forward. The sword hanging at his waist swayed.
“This won’t do. Today, you’re—”
Just as Yuri took a step forward, the knights standing behind Fennec moved aside.
Someone was there.
“What’s going on?”
It was Sybilla, dressed in plain clothes, her armor set aside.
“Sir Fennec, didn’t I tell you not to cause trouble?”
No matter who he was, Fennec couldn’t ignore Sybilla in front of foreign eyes.
He bowed his head.
“My apologies.”
“Come on out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Just before turning away, Fennec spoke to Yuri.
“I’ll withdraw for today. I wish you good fortune.”
“I’ve had enough luck already. Don’t need yours. See this?”
Yuri held up a handful of coins from the table. The soldiers jeered.
Fennec glared at Yuri, twisted his mouth, and turned away.
Leading the rest of the knights, he left the tavern.
Sybilla sighed, left alone.
“I’ll apologize on his behalf.”
“You don’t have to.”
Yuri shrugged.
“You’ve got it rough, having to deal with those guys.”
“I’ll repay this debt another time.”
Sybilla gave Yuri a brief smile before stepping out.
Watching her back, Yuri shrugged again.
“The Holy Kingdom’s messier than I thought.”
“Well, it’s not my problem.”
He returned to his seat.
“Hey, next one, come here.”
“Wait, Your Highness.”
“Hernando, you’ve lost everything. Step aside.”
“Just give me a chance!”
“There’s no such thing. Next! Anyone else?”
“I-I’ll participate.”
“You any good?”
“I was known as the card ghost of Ujes.”
“Ujes? You from Genard’s hometown?”
“Well…”
“Brace yourself.”
“No, I hate that guy too.”
“Genard’s lackey!”
“I’m not!”
As Fennec left the tavern, he muttered a curse under his breath.
That Third Prince of Briol really rubbed him the wrong way. He didn’t like how casually he spoke to Sybilla, as if they were old friends.
Trying to calm himself, he moved on, but a few knights by the roadside were glaring at them.
“Those are…”
Briol’s knights.
Word of the tavern incident must have spread, and their eyes were full of hostility.
“Laurent,” his adjutant whispered.
“Laurent?”
“Yes. Laurent Flandre of Briol. I’ve seen him at sword tournaments.”
“Still just a rookie.”
Fennec had heard the name before.
The eldest son of the Count of France, known for his swordsmanship from a young age. He’d even won a youth sword competition held in the Holy Kingdom. His personality was said to be very knightly.
“So the saying’s true—birds of a feather flock together. Laurent must be defending that pathetic Third Prince just because they’re from the same country.”
Suddenly, one of the knights standing next to Laurent stepped forward toward Fennec. But Laurent grabbed his shoulder.
“Don’t, Jared.”
“Understood.”
Fennec chuckled to himself.
Laurent was one thing, but some nobody trying to step up to him? The arrogance was laughable.
“What should we do?”
“Leave them be. They’ll all find out soon enough.”
He glanced briefly at Laurent and Jared before moving on.
A knight’s worth is proven on the battlefield, after all.
And that night—
News came that the Holy Kingdom’s main forces had been attacked.