Chapter 65 – Arrival at the Marquis' Residence
Fenrir rode at the forefront of his army, each hoofstep echoing the disciplined march of the 3,500 Eisenwald soldiers behind him. The road to Marquis Helbrecht's residence was lined with banners of other vassals, thousands of troops filling the avenue, eyes fixed on the young baron they considered too insignificant to be taken seriously.
Tension hung in the air. Noble eyes swept over the Eisenwald formation, counting men. Only 3,500 soldiers—paltry compared to the tens of thousands assembled by other vassals.
"Look at that… barely a fraction of the marsh troops," whispered a young Viscount to his nearby guard.
Fenrir lowered his head briefly, yet behind his calm gaze, his mind was calculating rapidly. He recalled all formations and strategies from his past life, plotting how his small force could hold its ground against a vastly superior army.
His troops moved with precision, forming front lines and flanking wings. Viktor Redmane, the infantry commander, ensured the frontline held firm—shields and spears perfectly aligned. Behind them, Selene Aestra arranged the archers, adjusting firing angles to cover any weak spots in the wings. Garrik Stormhoof rode alongside the flanks, ready to close gaps and execute swift strikes.
Whispers spread among the nobles, dismissing Eisenwald's small contingent. Yet Fenrir remained unmoved, guiding his army with quiet authority.
At a distance, Marquis Helbrecht appeared on the balcony, observing the arrival of all vassals. A trace of curiosity flickered across his face as he scrutinized the young baron who dared to arrive with such a modest force. Helbrecht's generals lined up, their expressions sharp and serious. Fenrir noted every movement, every glance, mentally cataloging their strengths and weaknesses.
Suddenly, a skeptical Viscount general stepped forward, eyes cold. "Young baron, do you truly believe your army can stand against ours? One against five—or even three—would be enough to end you."
The Eisenwald soldiers held their breath. Fenrir met the Viscount's gaze steadily. He tilted his head slightly, assessing the distance and the aura of his opponent. This was a pivotal moment. A brief flare of crimson lava aura erupted around Fenrir, not sustained—just enough to radiate intensity and command attention. A collective murmur ran through the opposing troops, while Eisenwald soldiers felt a surge of morale and determination.
Fenrir stepped forward. "Numbers do not determine the outcome. Discipline, strategy, and courage do. Today, I will prove my army can stand before you."
The duel that followed between Fenrir and the Viscount general was brief but revealing. A precise movement, a deft deflection—Fenrir demonstrated both skill and control without breaking formation. Observers from other vassals began to realize this young baron was no ordinary youth.
Once the duel ended, Fenrir's aura faded, returning to its concealed state. Yet its impact lingered: Eisenwald troops stood taller, morale strengthened, while some opposing forces hesitated, reconsidering their initial contempt. Fenrir inhaled deeply, aware this was only the beginning.
On the grounds of the Marquis' residence, all assembled vassals watched closely. Skepticism, curiosity, and grudging respect filled the air. Fenrir ensured every division commander was positioned correctly: Viktor with infantry, Selene with archers, Garrik with cavalry, Lyra Nightshade overseeing reconnaissance, and Roland Ironarm guarding artillery.
After the brief inspection, Fenrir turned to his army. "We are the spearhead of this campaign. Discipline is our lifeblood. Every action you take shapes the fate of Eisenwald."
Commanders acknowledged him with firm nods. Viktor clenched his fists, Selene readied her arrows, Garrik's gaze sharpened from atop his steed. Fenrir allowed himself a faint smile. This was the moment before the storm—the calm before the political and military upheaval would unfold.
From a distance, Marquis Helbrecht observed quietly. A subtle smile formed on his lips. He understood Eisenwald's forces were small, yet the young baron radiated something unseen to ordinary eyes—a commanding aura of leadership, capable of shaping the course of the battles to come.
The chapter closes on a note of high tension, with citizens and guards alike watching, other armies evaluating, and Fenrir prepared for the first test in this vast political-military arena.
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