Chapter 702: The Wolf Returning Home

The elegantly appointed hall was filled with the familiar scent of “Nightfall” incense. Pale golden pillars bore the Wendell family crest—the Iron-Clad Wolf—hanging proudly. Near noon, sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows on the south side, casting colorful patterns across the walls and illuminating the portrait of Teryan Wendell. In her memory, her grandfather always stood there with quiet authority before the ancestral portraits, back turned to the great doors, lost in thought.

A servant nearby stepped forward to announce her arrival, but Andesha stopped him. She walked alone into the hall and paused a few meters behind Duke Peredyn. The soft Aldernan sunlight filtered between them, dust motes dancing like tiny spirits in the air.

“Grandfather, I have returned.”

“Seven centuries ago, when Teryan Wendell crushed the Western Front’s mutant legions, he was your age,” Peredyn said slowly. “It was winter. The knights fought on the snowy plains—united like wolves, fierce and relentless. They battled for three days and nights, defeating an enemy five times their number. After that victory, the founding sovereign took the wolf as his emblem and named Teryan Wendell the First Wolf Duke.”

This was history every Wendell descendant knew by heart. Andesha bowed her head. “I have always carried our ancestor’s honor with me.”

“Honor indeed,” Peredyn finally turned to face her. His once formidable face was now a little more lined and aged than she remembered. “Or rather, every pioneer carries such honor. But honor demands matching ability—Teryan Wendell had it, and so must you, as must Gawain Cecil.

“The Cecil mage corps was personally formed and trained by Gawain Cecil himself. Compared to other ‘Glory Legions,’ theirs was the first generation. As a young commander, to face such an enemy and not be defeated means you are competent.”

Andesha met her grandfather’s gaze calmly, knowing there was more to come.

“As the supreme commander of the Winter Wolf Legion, as the first line of defense for the Empire, the moment you set foot on the Paramel Heights, you ceased to be qualified.”

She drew a breath and straightened her posture, just as she had done as a child before him.

“Tell me, what orders did His Majesty give you regarding the Longwind Fortress?”

“To maintain constant surveillance, confirm troop strength and deployment at the Longwind line at all times. Do not attack proactively unless a vulnerability is found. If an opportunity arises, choose the moment and strike immediately.”

“Correct,” Peredyn nodded. “From a purely orders-based perspective, you did nothing wrong. His Majesty would not punish you for failure. But when you carried out those orders, did you truly ‘only follow orders’?”

Andesha’s face tightened. After a few seconds under his steady gaze, she nodded. “Yes.”

“You have a habit of glancing to the lower left corner when nervous,” the duke shook his head and turned toward the stained-glass window, where sunlight poured in. “You sent no scouts disguised for reconnaissance. Instead, you personally led the knights to Paramel Heights. When you discovered the Cecil position was a ruse, you didn’t further investigate the surrounding terrain before signaling. All this happened amid rain, poor visibility, and reduced scouting efficiency… This should never have happened to you.”

“I have no excuse.”

“Hatred clouded your judgment. You waited years for this chance—I understand your urgency. But you are not a lone knight; you are a commander. More importantly, as His Majesty’s general, your personal feelings must come after the Emperor’s orders and the nation’s interests. Remember this: even if the Cecils killed me before your eyes today, if His Majesty commands peace with Cecil, you must maintain peace on the border. This is the responsibility you accepted the moment you took up your knight’s sword.”

Andesha was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath, her eyes steady once more. “I understand.”

“You will fulfill it, because you are a Wendell,” Peredyn nodded slowly. “What comforts me most is that some of your decisions were timely and correct. Those choices allowed you to successfully withdraw the knights from Winterwolf Keep. Not being left behind on Paramel Heights was your greatest success. It prevented the Empire from being put on the defensive morally and spared you from becoming a scapegoat in negotiations, bearing all the blame personally.”

Her grandfather’s lecture was as unyielding as ever, and Andesha found herself unable to argue, bowing her head to accept it all—until his tone suddenly shifted.

“The sermon is over. It’s time for some praise—you successfully brought back direct intelligence on the Cecil mage corps. That is invaluable.”

The old duke paused, then asked, “What exactly does it look like? What weapons does it have? How does it fight?”

Andesha composed herself, her expression serious.

“It’s constructed mostly of steel, shaped and sized much like the ‘train’ you described in your letter. It’s equipped with powerful magical weapons…

“At the time, it was hidden behind trees and rocks, but due to its size and the prominent runic markings and large protrusions on its tracks, it’s easily spotted from the air. I believe it’s not meant to be concealed; its main role is siege and mobile fortress…

“It can likely carry a large number of soldiers and supplies, allowing it to operate far from bases for extended periods…

“Though we didn’t engage it directly, I’m certain it has some kind of shield…

“If combat is necessary, destroying its tracks beforehand should be a priority. Its ranged attacks are fierce and concentrated. It should be treated like a mobile mage corps protected behind walls…

“Its main weapon is enormous, aimed at the Longwind Plains. Judging by its position, its range is at least ten kilometers—far beyond traditional spells…”

As she spoke point by point, Duke Peredyn nodded occasionally. When she finished, he pondered briefly, then broke the silence with a hint of admiration.

“You were lucky. The Cecils are still unfamiliar with it—just as we were when we first formed the Iron River Knights years ago. Their tactics for this new weapon are immature.”

“Immature?” Andesha was surprised.

“If they were mature, you wouldn’t have returned,” Peredyn glanced at her. “Do you think it was just the timely rain that let your knights withdraw alive?”

Seeing her thoughtful expression, the duke nodded slightly and then strode toward the hall’s exit. “His Majesty is at the Obsidian Palace. Come with me.”

Andesha snapped out of her reverie and quickly followed. “Yes, Grandfather.”

Peredyn grunted in acknowledgment but stopped just before entering the corridor. He looked back at Andesha, who had also paused, puzzled. The old man nodded gently.

“I forgot to say—welcome home.”

After a brief moment of stunned silence, a faint smile finally appeared on Andesha’s face.

Outside the duke’s manor, Andesha didn’t see her familiar carriage. Instead, parked below the steps was a strange contraption with four wheels and an iron shell.

“That’s the mage-driven carriage I mentioned in my last letter,” Peredyn explained before she could ask. “It’s the third one—we handcrafted most of its parts. Your uncle built a factory on Golden Shell Street, trying to use machines to produce the carriage’s frame and shell. If you have time, you should visit.

“You’ve been away from the capital too long. Much has changed here. Some things can’t be described well in letters—you need to see them yourself. It will be useful.”

“The Cecils have something similar,” Andesha said. “Recently, they’ve been using larger mage-driven carriages near Longwind Fortress to transport supplies.”

“Mage-driven carriages originated in Cecil. Our craftsmen and scholars copied them. As you’ve seen, the Cecils pioneered magecraft and have advanced far in this technology. We’re catching up, which unsettles many proud imperial nobles. But that’s the truth,” Peredyn said as he approached the carriage. “The ‘war machine’ you mentioned is obviously a product of magecraft. We’ve built powerful supernaturals, but the Cecils are closing the gap with mage technology. If we don’t want to fall behind, we must abandon pointless pride and start catching up now.”

Andesha climbed inside, curiosity and excitement barely contained as she took in everything around her. Her fingers traced the carriage’s inner door. Having seen the Cecil war machine firsthand, this seemed crude by comparison, yet when the mechanical vibrations thrummed beneath her, she couldn’t help but whisper, “…We made this.”

“Yes, we made this. We owe thanks to every scholar, mage, and craftsman in the Imperial Engineering Guild—especially Master Daniel, who leads this project. Though I don’t like his gloomy demeanor, his wisdom and talent are admirable,” Peredyn said. “Don’t envy the Cecils’ transport tools. Winterwolf Keep will have them soon. Your uncle has Master Daniel’s guidance. Once his factory is fully operational, we won’t need craftsmen’s hammers to build carriage shells anymore.”

With a hum of machinery, the mage-driven carriage rumbled to life and rolled out of the duke’s manor, heading toward the Obsidian Palace. Passersby stopped to watch, but Andesha’s attention was fixed elsewhere.

“If we can build this, then that train…”

“The train is a different matter,” Peredyn chuckled wryly. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m thinking it too. His Majesty is thinking it. Our scholars, craftsmen, and mages are thinking it. But the truth is, we can’t build one yet—not anything on the Cecil mage train’s level. I hear a group of craftsmen is trying to build a simple, small rail vehicle. Hopefully, they succeed.”

Listening to her grandfather, Andesha’s mood slowly settled. She looked out the window at the road slipping past, the noon sun burning away the thin fog on Aldernan Street, the few pedestrians hurrying along. Her heart, long tied to Winterwolf Keep and the front lines, was finally coming home.

As the carriage passed an intersection, it rolled past a mother and daughter walking together. Through the open window, Andesha caught a faint voice carried on the breeze:

“Mom, there are so few people on the street… Where has everyone gone?”

“They’re working in the factory…”

Times were changing, and this city felt increasingly unfamiliar.

But in the end, this was still her home.

…

In the Obsidian Palace, a servant entered Rosetta Augustus’s chamber and bowed deeply. “Your Majesty, Grant Duke Pedinan Wendell and General Andesha Wendell have arrived.”

Rosetta, who had been reviewing a document, looked up from her work. “Send them in.”

The head of the Wendell family and his heir stepped into the room, each performing the proper bow. After Rosetta returned their greetings, her gaze settled on Andesha.

The young wolf general stood tall and steady, meeting the emperor’s intense stare without flinching. When that deep look finally softened, she heard the question:

“Andesha, what does our army need most right now?”

(End of chapter)