Chapter 100
Once the invasion wave had ended, the Grand Duke stood atop the ramparts, watching the enemy forces retreat.
"We've confirmed the enemies are pulling back. The one who seemed to be their leader was all bluster—no real moves from him. And our side's casualties are light."
In war, few casualties on our side were naturally good news. In times when every life mattered, repelling the first assault with minimal losses was cause for real celebration.
Drben reported it with a beaming smile despite his battered face, but the Grand Duke's expression didn't brighten much.
"Your Grace? Is something wrong?"
"...Yeah."
"What is it? Are the enemies regrouping?!"
"No, nothing like that. It's just... it felt too easy for us to win..."
In the battle just now, the Grand Duke had only handled overall command and split the heads of those climbing the walls—no diving into the thick of the bloody melee. Sure, as commander he had to hold position, and he'd been ready to step in if our losses mounted, but from his vantage, no such crisis had emerged.
If anything, the enemies who'd pressed aggressively at first seemed to slack off, leaving him no real moment to shine. He'd ended up just directing from the walls.
"I get why you'd feel that way... but wouldn't praising the soldiers for this victory boost morale?"
"...You're right."
Wondering if he was overthinking it, the Grand Duke shook off his unease at Drben's advice. He was about to move and commend the troops who'd fought all day when—
Boom—crack!Whiiiish—!
"What was that?!"
"An explosion from the Grand Duke's castle!"
The thought of an accident where his family and kin were gathered hit him like lightning. The Grand Duke was already airborne, streaking toward the castle.
"Y-Your Grace!"
"Drben! Hold the ramparts while I'm gone!"
Leaping through the night sky after sunset, the Grand Duke prayed desperately that his people were safe—and that Mars Noctus was holding strong.
* * *
Evening time. To check for stragglers, we gathered all the bloodkin staying at the Grand Duke's castle for a meal.
No lavish feast given the urgency, but the bloodkin seemed to grasp the gravity now—no complaints.
They trickled into the dining hall one by one. We inspected each arrival, monitoring till everyone was accounted for.
"How's it looking, Polo? Everyone down?"
"Hmm... no. One short from the headcount we got."
"One? Who the hell... oh, got it."
In this situation, only one guy would skip out alone. I left Polo overseeing the meal prep—he knew him—and headed to Nicholas's room.
His behavior had felt off, so I'd asked Luna to rearrange the staff: at least one watching his door at all times. If he pulled anything suspicious, report straight to us. No letting him scheme out of sight.
A petite maid was pretending to scrub the floor, peeking at his door now and then. I snuck up; she startled at my footsteps, then relaxed seeing my face.
"H-Hi!"
"Hey. No need to stand on ceremony with me. Any weird stuff from Viscount Nicholas?"
"N-No... The last shift said nothing happened—just some loud muttering from his room a few times."
Strange noises... He was alone in there. Dirty room? Call a servant. No duties or territory business to handle quietly. Talking to himself? Super suspicious.
"I'll call him out. You announced dinner time, right?"
"Y-Yes... He said he knew and to wait, but still hasn't come..."
She must've agonized: drag the watchlist weirdo to dinner or not, when he stonewalled and she couldn't just leave her post.
I motioned her to hang back and approached the door.
Knock knock—
"What now?!"
"Viscount Nicholas. Everyone else is gathered. You need to head to the dining hall now—"
"G-G-Gathered?! R-Right! Coming!"
He flung the door open, thrusting his creepy face out. I instinctively stepped back.
What? Excitement? Anticipation? The guy always trashed by nobles wouldn't be thrilled for a crowd.
"...This way."
I let the maid lead; tailing Nicholas, I scrutinized every move. He wobbled slightly, hand jammed in his pocket like a punk—shady posture, but no other red flags. Annoying vibe and face aside, he seemed too dumb to harm these bloodkin.
We reached the hall. Older nobles tsked and turned away at his face. His notoriety as a wastrel ran deep—they saw him as rotten to the core.
"Nicholas, sir, your seat is over here—"
"Prazia—!!"
Ignoring the staff, he beelined for Lady Prazia. She scowled, but he planted himself before her, grinning like a maniac.
"Prazia... long time no see?"
"..."
"Still cold to me, huh. Heh... yeah, that haughty look ain't bad."
The room murmured at his rude lack of title for the lady. Even the Grand Duchess rose, sensing trouble.
"Keh... you've always been like that. Those blank eyes, like nothing matters... imagining them wet with tears under me makes my blood boil down there."
Prazia fixed him with an icy glare like frostbite. He spewed filth without shame.
"Here's a deal. Agree to be with me here. Then everyone walks."
"Nicholas! What the hell do you think you're doing!!"
A branch family punk trash-talking the Grand Duke's daughter—who bore strong dragon blood? Rare sight. The Grand Duchess stood vein-popping furious.
But Nicholas ignored the pressure, eyes locked on Prazia.
"Think it over. If you don't want all these necks snapped—"
"Get lost. Nicholas."
"Keh... kehahaha... same answer as back then. You're one fine woman."
He pulled a fist-sized stone from his pocket. Smashing her head? Useless on near-half-dragon her. But instinct kicked in—I moved first.
Slash—!
Lightning-fast, I cleaved the stone midair. Bracing for his follow-up, I eyed him—but he just smirked, even as his prop split.
"Knew you'd do that. Aura Lord."
"What—"
Whiiiish—!
"Should've shattered it, not sliced."
Black smoke billowed from the stone, spreading through the hall. Clumps formed shapes.
Clank... cliiink—
The smoke turned into black-robed assailants.
"Kyaaah—!"
"R-Run!!"
They lunged, grabbing bloodkin to flee.
"Not on my watch—!"
Me, the aides, and knights blocked, hustling bloodkin to safety.
"Mars! One left!"
Polo's shout mid-throw—I turned. A massive smoke lump swelled behind me, charging.
"Buhihee!! Damn brat—!!"
"You—?!"
Smoke cleared: a giant claw lunged. I dodged the grip.
Bam—!
Just air, but the burst said it'd pulverized bone and flesh.
"Buhiheehit...! Told ya? Buhi... the punk who stole my ingredients... I'd kill you myself—!!"
Heaven God Cult executive: Gula.
Nicholas's betrayal let the bastard infiltrate us.