Noticing how both of them were staring at the presented brunch he smiled lowly leaned against the carriage's wall "You may eat, after all we do not want such an amount of food to go to waste." Their eyes quickly averted to Granbell widened in surprise with the corners of their lips tightening into a smile.
"Really!?" They both yelled out then covered their mouths almost simultaneously "N-No it is f–.. Fine M'Lord.. We can not eat such extravagant dishes."
Trying to appear annoyed by their rejection he sternly yet quietly said.
"It is fine, I permit, no I order it." Their eyes glistened at that "Is it really.. Fine?" He nodded and immediately they took the forks "In that case, thanks for the food!"
Looking at how happy the brown haired maid took the fork and struck it right through a column of meat, tasting it with gust "Mmm It is falling apart in my mouth" With closed eyes and a delighted face, Granbell couldn't help but blush looking at her, averting his gaze outside once again he thought of distracting himself.
The rattling of the carriage helped him avert his attention from the clacking of the plates and the upcoming campaign-
Nine hundred and thirty years after Jesoint era, a minor border dispute between the northern federationalist clans of Rose, also called Barbarians by those in the south—the Vermillions—led to a war.
Leaning back, he closed his eyes, taking a heavy sigh.
Out of the most important events in the war, Jouragend, the tutorial battle, is the most important one. A setting for my younger brother to rise, defeat the barbarians while heavily taking casualties of his own—problem is what happens after. Under accusation of treason after Granbell, I… The past me didn't send troops to help him. Instead of pursuing the liberation of the north, he decided to get my head and lay claim to the throne as the second in line.
Crossing his legs, the brown-haired maid noticed him being away in thought, hesitating for a moment as she wrung her hands nervously, unsure if she should speak.
One of the tutorial endings would be Granbell's death; that's something I need to avoid. The other pathway is Granbell raising troops, anywhere between two to fifteen thousand—and of course, that chance is pure fucking RNG, leading me to only get two thousand and five hundred…
Suddenly she called out, "M'Lord—" her voice soft but worried. To no avail, as he continued brainstorming what's to happen. "M'Lord…" She shifted anxiously, glancing outside at the fading orange sky.
Though when arriving on the battlefield, presented with a perfect opportunity, instead of helping his brother, he orders the army to crush them between the barbarians, leading to a massacre and shortly after entering and defending the castle…
"M'Lord Granbell!!" Yelling out his name caused him to open his eyes, realizing the carriage had slowed down significantly.
"What, what? What's happening?"
With a worried look, she leaned in. "You have been away in thought for hours… We are arriving soon, M'Lord."
He glanced down at the table—it was empty now with the exception of a bag on the left side.
Hours? Impossible…
My thoughts couldn't have been longer than a couple minutes!?
The carriage came to a stop shortly after. The doors opened, and on each side Halden and Hans bowed. Knights nearby straightened up abruptly, some wiping dust from their armor; serfs froze mid-task, lowering their heads.
"M'Lord. We will begin preparation for encampment. Your tent will be ready soon."
Granbell glanced between the four of them, noticing the dark outside. The last glow of the sun cast long shadows across the great central plains; the wind carried a cold breath that sent a faint shiver through the campfolk.
"Where are we currently?"
Hans answered, "We are about ten to fifteen jules away from Jouragend. We have sent scouts further down the plains, as we have noticed smoke rising from the general direction, M'Lord."
His eyes widened as he slightly stepped outside the carriage. The sun was setting slowly, throwing a shade over the great central plains. A single shiver passed through him; even the knights exchanged brief uneasy glances.
The third worst outcome connected directly to the second. Wishing to hasten his victory before I arrive, he gets caught in a trap—leading to direct capitulation of not only the castle, but the whole northern region. While I get accused of high treason and marked as Imperial number one enemy.
Fucking ministers…
Ten to fifteen jules.. That's about two hours on foot right? So less than that in a gallop…
"We need to hurry." He yelled out, surprising Hans and Halden. A few knights flinched, some gripping their reins tighter.
Why was I gone for so long when I can't even remember it?
"But M'Lord—pardon me, but running head first into unknown combat could—" Halden's tongue was cut short by Han's warning look.
That's something I need to worry about later, for now I need to hurry…
"Let the serfs stay, the wagons and tents as well. Leave the food and a dozen knights to guard it. From here on I'll ride. We have to hurry. Where is my horse!?"
Hans turned around and yelled out, "GET MASTER'S HORSE! NOW! KNIGHTS, SADDLE YOUR HORSES! BE READY FOR DEPARTING!"
Several knights groaned in frustration. "Again..? We have just stopped though—" a couple muttered lazily, yet obeyed, scrambling to mount up. Nearby serfs rushed nervously, some stumbling as they prepared the horses.
Halden shook his head, stepping back slightly. "This is madness… The horses need rest as well…"
"NEII-GH!"
A massive yet beautiful white stallion was presented before Granbell. The serf kneeling beside it trembled slightly under the pressure.
"M'Lord. Your horse is ready."
I'm supposed to ride that…?
He glanced at one of the shorter brown horses his knights had, fully equipped with armor.
Why is it naked? Where's his Goddamn armor!?
Suddenly Halden spoke. "M'Lord, pardon me sincerely, but the hollow knights can't follow you blindly. It is madness. This could lead to our annihilation. We have no idea whether the castle is still ours, or how much the—"
He sternly looked at him.
"I thought you were the most elite unit within the Vermillion army. Was I wrong? Has my father gifted me a useless private guard who uses their free time to roll into gold and whores!?"