"Vier," Lock asked calmly, "how much farther to E-Rantel?"
"About an hour," she replied after a brief pause.
Her answer was precise. Between castle procurement and dealings with merchant guilds, she traveled this road often. Distance and timing were second nature to her.
Lock nodded. At least supper would be taken within city walls.
The only uncertainty was whether the Slane Theocracy had already received word.
Given the habits of the Kingdom's nobility, news of him escorting Gazef Stronoff with a personal knight order would not remain secret for long. Even before reaching E-Rantel, the information would likely reach the Theocracy's operatives lying in wait.
But Lock judged the response predictable.
They would ignore it.
To most eyes, he was nothing more than a minor border baron—quiet, unremarkable, and politically insignificant. His years had been spent in silence, building strength and resources while leaving no ripples in the world's awareness.
Only one detail carried weight: his relation to Catherine Cort Albert.
That alone was insufficient.
The unit assigned to this operation was the Sunlight Scripture, one of the Six Scriptures of the Slane Theocracy. Every member was a trained magic caster capable of third-tier magic—individuals who, by Kingdom standards, would rank at least Platinum.
Arrogance was ingrained in such forces.
In their eyes, even the Kingdom's most elite troops barely reached Gold rank. A border baron, regardless of lineage, would never register as a threat.
And that, precisely, was what Lock wanted.
On the eastern outskirts of E-Rantel, a concealed unit rested within the forest's cover.
At its center stood a man with an unremarkable face—one that would be forgotten moments after leaving sight. Only his unnatural black eyes and the scar crossing his face disrupted the illusion of ordinariness.
This was Nigun Grid Luin.
He scanned the intelligence report handed to him, then scoffed.
"A Kingdom baron?" he muttered, contempt plain in his voice. "Even with three hundred additional troops, nothing changes."
He crushed the report beneath his heel without another glance.
His confidence was absolute.
The Sunlight Scripture existed to purge demi-humans, to enforce the doctrine of human supremacy through annihilation. Against such enemies, they had never known hesitation.
The Kingdom's people were weaker still.
"Your fate is sealed, Gazef Stronoff," Nigun said quietly. "The Kingdom rots from within."
His fingers brushed the scar on his face—left deliberately unhealed.
It was a reminder.
Once, during a purge, he had crossed paths with Blue Rose. Their captain had carved that mark into him. Healing magic could erase it, but Nigun refused.
Humiliation was a sharper spur than pain.
"Lord Lock."
The carriage slowed. Gazef's voice came from outside.
Lock reluctantly straightened from Vier's embrace. She rose smoothly and opened the door.
Five meters away, members of the Tiger Knight Order blocked Gazef's approach, weapons at rest but posture rigid. Escort protocol, nothing more.
Lock raised a hand.
The knights stepped aside.
"Warrior Captain," Lock said evenly. "What troubles you?"
Gazef hesitated, visibly uncomfortable.
"We have reached the outskirts of E-Rantel," he said. "There is… a request. Would it be possible for your knight order to establish camp outside the city?"
The words carried apology within them.
To invite aid, only to deny entry—it was discourteous. Gazef knew it.
Lock understood immediately.
"Very well," he replied without pause. "We will camp nearby. Inform us when you move tomorrow."
Relief flashed across Gazef's face.
"You have my thanks," he said earnestly. "Supplies will be sent."
Lock inclined his head, accepting without comment.
Gazef turned his horse and led his unit through the city gates, vanishing beyond the walls of E-Rantel.
Vier watched him go, then smiled faintly.
"So long as the city does not belong to us," she said, "your knights will always be kept outside."
Lock returned the smile.
The reasoning was simple. The Tiger Knight Order rode monsters—predators capable of tearing through common soldiers. To the people of the city, these were not mounts, but calamities given form.
No administrator would risk panic—or suspicion—by allowing such a force inside the walls. Especially not when the city answered directly to Ramposa III, and Lock's origins lay with the noble faction.
He had anticipated this outcome from the beginning.
"One day," Lock said softly, "no gate will bar them."
"Barker," he commanded, "establish camp."
"Yes, my lord."
Orders flowed instantly.
Tents were erected with disciplined efficiency. The tigers were led into orderly lines, iron basins placed before them. Granulated feed was poured out—dense, nourishing, refined far beyond ordinary fodder.
The beasts ate calmly.
They had been bred, conditioned, and sustained with care. Everything Lock employed was meant to endure.
Watching the camp take shape, Lock's gaze drifted toward the city walls in the distance.
Inside, enemies waited in shadow.
Outside, fear grew quietly.
And between the two, he allowed misunderstanding to flourish.
---
A/N: 30% OFF ON ALL THE FANFIC FOR FEW DAYS CODE "NS300"
A/N: Advanced Chapters Have Been Uploaded On My Patreon
Support: patreon.com/Narrator_San