Novel Full Chapter 1243: Two Cute Princesses
Chapter 1243: Two Cute Princesses
She rested her finger on the portrait, tapping lightly at Quinlan’s ink-drawn eyes.
“There’s a reason His Majesty placed a bounty on his head worth twice as much as a member of the Obsidian Circle. This man… is the wild horse in this race. Untamed. Unpredictable. And incredibly dangerous.”
Alastair leaned back, arms folding across his chest. “So Black Fang wasn’t the only one responsible for humiliating the Fujimori.”
Ophira’s lips thinned. “Our reports suggest that Black Fang led the fight against Kaede and Chizuru. She is stronger than Devil in duels… For now.”
Then she gulped, adding, “But Devil is the one who shattered the Fujimori army. He seems to specialize in AoE attacks and can somehow even wield a weird branch of Necromancy on top of it. I’m afraid he might be the biggest threat to armies on the whole continent. We must ensure that we have enough elites with each of our armies to hold him up, because, otherwise, he will eat our men alive even if we send 100,000 of them.”
Silence settled over the war room.
The advisors exchanged glances.
Finally, Alastair exhaled and nodded once.
Alastair’s expression darkened. “You’re saying one man could wipe out a hundred thousand soldiers? Impossible. He’d run out of mana long before that.”
Ophira had an expression full of disbelief regarding what she was about to say. Even she struggled to believe it. “Reports say otherwise. He can regenerate mana while casting. He was levitating in the air in a cross-legged position while spamming spells that claimed the slain as his, resurrected them as blue-skinned minions, ordered them to attack, and once again claimed the newly slain while resurrecting his minions that were defeated in battle.”
Then Ophira shuddered as an uneasy jolt traveled down her spine all the way to her toes as she added with a pale face, “In a battle of attrition, I fear that Devil is already by far the strongest man on the continent, bar none.”
The room froze. “Bar none?!” Alastair’s eyes bulged. The older advisor, near the end of the table, finally spoke. “How reliable is that information, My Lady?”
“It came directly from the Central Administration. The king’s men distributed it to every ducal family. We are ordered to pass the information to our subordinates. Everyone must know.”
Alastair’s fingers drummed once on the table. “Are you telling me that this is the same boy who struggled against the trio of the Vexmore rejects at the banquet?”
“The very same,” Ophira confirmed. “He wasn’t struggling, I’m guessing. Instead, he was holding back. After all, he was playing the role of the noble Lord Black back then. The sly bastard, I can’t believe he actually got invited to the king’s banquet… By the king himself, at that. What a debacle.”
“Yeah… Just goes to show that the old fucker should drop dead; he’s unfit to rule. I can’t wait for his son to inherit.” Alastair leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose.
Both his wife and advisors looked at him wryly. Clearly, he was just saying whatever he wanted to paint the king in a bad light. Furthermore, inheritance came with destabilization, especially when the heir was more of a pencil pusher like Prince Elias instead of a mighty warrior like Alexios.
Alastair, unperturbed by the many dry gazes on him, continued, “Then we’ll move with the assumption that the information is correct.”
He glanced toward his generals. “Triple the ward coverage around all field outposts. Furthermore, let our officers know that should they spot Devil, they are not to let him breathe for a single second. If he enters the field, I want him buried under steel and mana before he can even cast a single spell.”
The generals rose, saluting before filing out one by one. When the last of them left, Alastair stayed seated for a moment, staring at the map littered with figurines and red markings. His duchy, his birthright, his blood-soaked inheritance… all of it was resting on how well he did in this sick game.
Every single eye of his ancestors was on him, and he swore before them all that he would give it his all. He would not shame his blood.
The duke finally stood.
Outside, the evening’s torchlight brushed against his face. Two high-pitched, feminine voices called out at once.
“Papa!”
“Father!”
Vivienne and Amara were waiting at the corridor’s end. Their matching white dresses swayed as they ran toward him, both smiling widely as if their entire worlds had brightened upon seeing him.
These days, the duke realized that his princesses were dressing a lot cuter than before. He didn’t understand the reason why, but they seemed to drop their dark, somewhat revealing clothes.
Now, they were dressed as innocent princesses.
Their mere appearance was enough to melt the man’s heart.
Alastair’s features softened instantly at the sight. His heavy heart lightened upon hearing their soft voices and seeing their loving gazes. “You two should be asleep, already… Or are you still struggling with those nasty nightmares?” he said as they crashed into his arms.
Indeed, his twin daughters were almost kidnapped some months ago on their way back from the capital! The travesty!
As luck would have it, both of them managed to make it out of it unscathed, at the expense of their guards, who honorably died protecting their ladies.
What about the perpetrator?
The greedy man called Broker of the Vesper Consortium was the likely culprit. This was one of the main reasons why the tensions even developed to the current boiling level of heat.
“Are you done for the day?” Vivienne asked, tugging at his sleeve.
He chuckled tiredly. “Yes, but Papa can’t play right now. There’s too much work to be done.”
“Please?” Vivienne’s delicate hand slid into his while her eyes tilted upward in silent pleading. “Just a short walk. Only thirty minutes.”
“No, I really-”
“Twenty, then!” Amara said quickly, clasping his other hand. “Please! Just twenty!”
Alastair sighed, pretending to think, but the corners of his mouth were already curling up. “Fine, fine. Papa is weak in front of his beautiful princesses.”
The girls giggled in unison, pulling him toward the courtyard.
The moonlight caught the dew on the flowers as they wandered through the garden paths. The scent of lilac mixed with the smoke from the torches of the bodyguards walking a respectful distance in front as well as behind them.
“So, Papa,” Vivienne started, “how was the big meeting? Did everyone listen to you again?”
Alastair smiled, amused. “Of course they did, I call the shots in this house. We discussed strategy. But you two know I can’t talk about what happens in the war room.”
Amara puffed her cheeks. “But you’re the smartest, aren’t you? The generals always look so scared when you talk. It’s as if they fear speaking up will reveal how much dumber they are.”
Vivienne nodded eagerly. “Tell us something! Just a little detail. We want to hear about how amazing you were!”
He tried to resist, but their bright faces eroded his composure. Soon, he found himself explaining the supply routes and repositioning of troops, even mimicking how one of his advisors had fumbled a map and how Alastair instantly noticed and corrected the mistake.
The girls laughed on cue, eyes shining with delight.
Then, while Alastair gestured toward the stars to describe a formation, their gazes met.
A silent pulse of magic crossed between them, a whisper sent right into each other’s heads.
<We did it! We won’t have to go to Miri Town and service those filthy degenerates today!!> Vivienne cheered.
<Yeah! Finally, we will deliver some news worthy of skipping a night of torture… I can sleep in my bed…> Amara chirped giddily.
And together, with joy in their voices, they connected to the mind of a man.
<Master, do you copy?>
Across the duchy, the Primrodial Villain grinned.
<Go ahead.>