Uninvited Guest (3)
Curtis scanned the area with anxious eyes, waiting for something.
“Argh!”
“Kuh!”
Got ‘em!
The moment screams echoed from inside the prison, Curtis rushed in with his soldiers.
“Travis! What the hell is this?”
“Their bonds must’ve come loose during interrogation. They lunged at us out of nowhere, so we had no choice but to draw our swords.”
“What?”
Mark hurried over and checked the prisoners’ noses. He shook his head at Curtis.
“They’re both dead.”
“Ha! What a mess. These were key prisoners who could’ve revealed who attacked the outpost!”
“I’m sorry. It all happened so fast...”
“Sigh. Let’s get out of here for now.”
Curtis led Travis outside.
“I’ll handle things here somehow.”
“Thank you, Sir Curtis.”
“But...”
Curtis glanced around before whispering,
“We need to keep this quiet. If word gets out, our lord proxy won’t sit still with that temper of his. And if he finds out I helped you, I’m in danger too. So keep our involvement and the true nature of this outpost a secret.”
“Of course! I understand. And I’ll repay this favor.”
“You’d better. Don’t forget.”
Curtis quoted Wayne’s usual line verbatim.
“Oh, and you’ll have to do me one favor!”
“Pardon? What favor?”
“The Grint outpost. There isn’t one nearby, right?”
“Yes. But why...?”
Travis felt a chill.
Travis and the Grint territory’s Gigant pilots left the Patton Outpost in a hurry.
Glen Jacob and Mark entered Curtis’s office.
“Curtis, what kind of magic did you pull? Making them back off like that?”
“Heh! Think that’s all? Now we’ve got a Grint outpost in our rear—like an ally. A capable former commander will take charge there.”
“Damn! Not bad! Since when did you get so clever?”
“What? I’ve always been smart. I just prefer fighting.”
Curtis hadn’t just sent the enemies packing; he’d gained what amounted to an allied outpost in the rear. This was something Wayne had asked Alicia to handle, but she’d had no good options. A major territory’s outpost changed everything. They had 2nd class Gigants and well-trained pilots, making other outposts envious.
“Oh! And Young Lord Wayne said something before leaving.”
“What?”
“He’s going to build a territory.”
“What?”
Glen and Mark’s eyes widened like saucers.
“That’s impossible. How’s he gonna build a new territory without the main house’s support?”
“I don’t know the details. But he said he’ll come back with a solid plan. So what’ll you do?”
“If he really builds one, it means ditching Dresden.”
“Exactly. From major territory pilots to a small territory’s.”
“But I haven’t even learned Odd yet.”
“You will soon. No doubt about it. Look at me.”
Glen looked hesitant. His parents were Dresden nobles, and he’d once been a Blue Knights squad leader. Leaving the territory was no small thing.
“No pressure, think it over. Marquis Frank didn’t mistreat us, but what can has-beens like us do? Teach at the academy? Glen, you happy as a guard officer? Mark, content as a supply officer? We’re Gigant pilots. Without a Gigant, we’re still cripples. But Young Lord Wayne will make us pilots again. That’ll make our hearts beat once more!”
Glen nodded after listening quietly.
“You’re right. Better to die in a Gigant on the battlefield than guard walls forever. If he builds a territory, I’m in no question.”
Curtis turned to Mark.
“Mark, you?”
“What choice? I decided to follow Young Lord Wayne when I left Winchester Castle.”
“You little shit, you sure know how to pick sides.”
Wayne tilted his head at the mysterious, ominous energy emanating from Lord Frederic Taylor’s body. He didn’t know what it was, but this dark aura was blocking the flow of Odd.
Odd flowed through the entire body. Wayne could send Odd into others’ bodies and spread it everywhere. That let him spot any blockages, leaks, or irregularities instantly. It was like how he’d used red Odd to check Curtis before and found leaks at his wounds.
This time, he’d layered it with King Brass’s long-range Odd transmission technique for remote use—sending Odd from afar to control golems.
Huh? Didn’t he say his spine was injured, paralyzing his lower body?
He’d expected a broken, dislocated, or deformed spine. But Odd flowed fine there—perfectly normal. Instead, the nerves and muscles around it felt clogged by some foreign black energy.
Not being a specialist, he couldn’t pinpoint it, but this seemed internal, not from external spine damage.
Touching him directly would reveal more...
King Brass’s remote technique wasn’t perfect yet. Direct contact would give clearer insight. Wayne knew human anatomy and Odd flow well from teaching his squad and King Karian’s knowledge, enough to diagnose via Odd.
Checking Lord Frederic’s condition was one reason he’d come.
It was lunchtime, so Frederic led Wayne and Sara to the first-floor dining hall.
“Nothing fancy, but eat up.”
“Thanks.”
Could a noble—especially a lord—have a sparse table? Wayne figured it was politeness. But it was modest: roast chicken, wine, bread, soup, apples. No different from outpost fare.
The lord’s frugal.
Baron Frederic cherished gold earned with soldiers’ lives in the Great Forest. Parents toiled opening land; their kids fought monsters for it. The place felt humble, not lordly; his clothes plain.
“Lord, this chicken’s delicious.”
“Glad it suits you. Pork for dinner—expect something good.”
The mood was fine. Frederic skipped eating, engrossed in Wayne’s Great Forest tales and rescue heroics.
As the meal ended:
“Lord, one question.”
“Ask away.”
“You have two grown sons. Why send the baroness to Lorenne Outpost?”
“Pardon?”
Frederic flushed at the sudden probe. Eldest son Bruce Taylor spoke.
“Well, that’s...”
His voice cracked; wife Louise jumped in.
“Sadly, my husband can’t use Odd, so no Gigant.”
“I see.”
“An heir at the outpost makes soldiers uneasy and needs extra protection. Better for him to govern here.”
What excuses. Great Forest’s dangerous—better safe in the castle. And govern with the lord alive? Why Louise answering for Bruce? The vibe was off.
Who’s really the lord here...?
Bruce was henpecked.
Wayne’s question soured the air fast.
“Oh! Why not have young Albus go to the outpost with Sir Wayne?”
“What?”
Second son Albus startled mid-bite.
“You’ve always been curious about outposts. You’ve got nothing here—follow Captain Wayne and learn.”
“Who’ll care for Father?”
Bruce cut in:
“Your sister-in-law’s here, and territory healers.”
“No. How can I leave Father to others?”
“You wound me, young master. Am I an outsider? I’m this house’s lady.”
“No. The lady is Baroness Alicia.”
“What?”
“Right? Brother’s not lord; stepmother’s here. Calling yourself lady?”
“Stepmother? Absurd. Some rootless woman. Vulgarly, Father didn’t even bed her...”
Louise covered her mouth, smirking.
“Albus, your sister-in-law’s right! No proper wedding—stepmother? No.”
“But Father acknowledged it. Small family ceremony.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“Enough! We have guests!”
Frederic bellowed, fed up. But:
“Cough! Cough!”
Blood trickled from his mouth.
“Lord!”
The butler rushed over.
“I’m fine.”
Frederic wiped blood with a handkerchief, bowing to Wayne.
“Sorry. Family noise.”
“No issue. Meal’s done—may we go?”
“Yes. I’ll have someone show you to your rooms.”
The baron summoned attendants for Wayne and Sara.
Wayne soaked in hot bathwater, scrubbing off grime. Water was scarcest in the Great Forest. Baths monthly; face-washing rarer than not. Clean and changed, he felt lighter. Opening the window brought cool breeze.
Now I get why Alicia doesn’t smile.
Even paralyzed, the lord was lord—yet eldest son and daughter-in-law acted entitled. Rejecting Alicia as stepmother? Outpost might’ve been easier. But she worried for her husband here.
So suspicions, no proof...
Before coming, Wayne talked much with Alicia about Lorenne, got one request. Grasping at straws for her.
Time to move. Huh?
Gazing out, he spotted a woman in the small garden—planting flowers, then wielding a trowel like a sword.
Gasp! Alicia?
He doubted his eyes. Alicia should be at outpost—here? At first, twin-like. But younger up close.
Ah! Alicia’s sister?
Trowel swung sword-like—graceful line, power at tip. Skilled.
Wayne activated Odd Eye, watching.
Her Odd’s better than her sister’s!
Assuming sister already. Thin Odd membrane cloaked her—not Nancy-level, but impressive for age near his.
Huh? What’s that? You?
His Odd Eye caught someone peeking from tree behind: Lord’s second son, Albus Taylor.
Son peeking at step-aunt?
This family’s a powder keg.
Wayne shook his head, sat on bed. Assumed stance, unleashed red Odd everywhere. It blanketed the small castle instantly.
Got the second son. Where’re the eldest and wife—and what’re they up to...
He knew their auras. Red Odd found their room quick—nearby.
Wayne layered his Odd atop red, sent it there. Focused on ears.
“The Gigant pilot’s arrival worries me. We need to accelerate our plan.”