Under the Oak Tree - Chapter 386 - 147

386 Chapter 147

“Lead the way,” Riftan said, nodding.

The knight promptly turned his horse around. Following suit, the soldiers fell into strict formation and began their march.

As Maxi trailed behind, her gaze swept over the sprawling array of tents, catapults, and hundreds of armored warhorses. Most notable was a field hospital behind the camp for those wounded in battle. Even a cursory glance revealed over two hundred patients being treated.

Amid the soldiers frantically transporting the injured and healers crouched before patients, she saw Riftan stop before a vibrantly colored tent. She hastily pulled on her reins as well. Hopping down from his horse, Riftan instructed Hebaron to establish their camp behind the Croyso encampment before entering the tent.

Maxi bit her lip. Throughout their journey, the duke’s vassals had shown nothing but contempt for her husband. She feared that the same hostile reception awaited him here.

Dismounting Rem, she confidently strode into the tent as if she had every right to be there. To her great relief, no one tried to stop her. Holding her head high, she took in the lavish furnishings. Riftan and Ursuline stood a few paces from the entrance. A rugged figure in gleaming armor – presumably Sir Derek – sat across from them.6 Maxi studied the man’s oddly familiar face. She was sure of it; she had seen the knight at Croyso Castle on numerous occasions.

Spotting her, the knight rose to his feet, his surprise evident. “Lady Maximilian, what a while it has been. I did hear you became a mage, but I never expected to find you here, of all places.”

Maxi blinked, taken aback by his affable reception. She caught the subtle crease in Riftan’s brow as he looked at her.

But it was the knight that Riftan addressed. His tone cutting, he said, “She is Lady Calypse now. Be sure to address her appropriately.”

“My apologies, Lady Calypse.”

After readily correcting himself, the knight ordered a nearby subordinate to usher them to their seats.

Maxi naturally took the chair next to Riftan. Though he seemed far from pleased, he evidently deemed it better to have her with him than to leave her toiling outside.

Turning to Derek, he launched straight into his point. “I’ve heard reports that you’ve been attempting to breach the walls using siege ladders instead of catapults.”

“Our orders are to reclaim the city with minimal damage,” the knight replied grimly. “The catapults are a last resort. We are currently devising a strategy to breach the gates without compromising the integrity of the walls.”

“You mean the walls remained intact when the monsters took the city?” Ursuline cut in, looking surprised.

Scratching his neck with a hairy hand, Sir Derek gave a subdued nod. “The enemy managed to take the city with little damage. Those who fled reported that ghouls appeared at dawn and began slaughtering the inhabitants. The unprepared soldiers were overrun, turning into undead themselves. It apparently took less than a day for the monsters to claim Midna.”

The crease in Riftan’s brow deepened. He asked sharply, “How could so many undead spawn within the city? Bodies that undergo proper purification do not turn into undead. Was there ever a mass burial without proper rites?”

“Well…” Unease flickered across the knight’s face. He heaved a sigh and admitted, “I’ve been informed that the lower classes had been resorting to secret burials when they could not afford costly ceremonial rites. Seems the practice has been ongoing for several years.”

“You mean to tell me the city’s custodian allowed countless

unpurified bodies to be interred under his very nose?” Ursuline said incredulously.

Seemingly at a loss for a suitable reply, Sir Derek cleared his throat and attempted to change the subject. “In any event, we’re certain that dark mages are present within the city, controlling the undead. Ghouls and skeletons are hardly known for their intelligence, yet these undead patrol the walls with military precision. Must be that they’re being guided by someone. We need to locate and eliminate this malefactor.”

“The fastest way would be to breach the walls and storm the city,” Riftan said coldly. “You’ll need to utilize your catapults and magical devices at once. Target the east and west sides, launch a coordinated assault, and we will recapture the city in a day.”

“And after that?” Sir Derek asked stiffly. “I doubt the coalition army will linger to act as guards until the walls are repaired. You will ultimately leave, leaving the city defenseless.”

Riftan fell into contemplative silence, acknowledging the knight’s point as a valid concern. After a pause, he rose from his seat with a resigned sigh.

“Very well. We shall devise a means to infiltrate the city without compromising the walls. Do you have a map of the city’s layout?” “I have one right here.”

Sir Derek looked to a clerk, who retrieved a large roll of parchment from a chest and offered it to Ursuline. Maxi watched as the fair- haired knight accepted it, relaxing a little as she realized all the previous hostility had dissipated.

Unlike her father’s other vassals, Sir Derek did not seem to harbor any hostility toward Riftan. Observing the knight’s cooperative manner with skepticism, Maxi turned her attention back to Riftan. However, before they could leave the matter behind, the knight spoke abruptly.

“Lady Calypse, the duke’s health is failing.”

Maxi turned to the man in surprise. She was momentarily dumbfounded, not because of the news itself, but due to her struggle to grasp his motives for sharing this information with her.

Furrowing her brow, she said icily, “And why… are you telling me this? Are you unaware of the bad blood between me and my father?”

“Regardless of the state of your relationship, you are the duke’s firstborn,” Sir Derek replied calmly. “Although His Grace has declared the crown princess’s second child his heir, his condition might not hold until then. If he were to pass without a designated heir, as the eldest, you would likely inherit all.”

Maxi stood stunned, yet the knight continued discussing the matter with the detachment of a trivial conversation.

“Should you assert your right to inheritance, even the royal tribunal would be compelled to honor your claim. As it happens, many of the eastern nobles are curious to know your intentions.”

In other words, the nobles were deciding which of the duke’s daughters to back. Even Sir Derek had taken a neutral stance in case Maxi chose to assert her claim to the duchy.

She was about to say she had no interest in inheriting her father’s estate but stopped herself. It occurred to her that it would be strategically advantageous for Riftan and the coalition army if she showed some ambition for becoming heir, at least until this war was over. By giving the impression that she was willing to fight for her inheritance, many of her father’s vassals would tread carefully around Riftan.

Maxi thought fast. She might even be able to prevent the duchy from cutting off the coalition’s supplies. Her father’s vassals would inevitably waver if she spread rumors about the duke’s weakening influence while subtly applying pressure as the likely heir.

Her heart began to race. She could almost envision the Duke of Croyso flying into a rage when he learned that she had acted so presumptuously. It was a most gratifying mental image.

However, an overt display of intent could alienate her father and those who supported her sister, Rosetta. With her social networks cultivated since the age of fourteen, Rosetta had garnered friends among the eastern nobles, granting her a notable advantage over Maxi.

After careful deliberation, Maxi said neutrally, “I believe this is not an appropriate time for discussing such matters.”

Sir Derek narrowed his eyes, clearly wondering what her ambiguous response could mean. Turning away, Maxi started toward the entrance. It was then that she noticed Riftan’s hardened expression.

Her incredulous gaze met his, and she wished she could reassure him. He could not possibly think she truly wanted the duchy when she already had Anatol. However, she did not want her father’s knights to overhear.

She glanced around warily before giving him a warm smile.

Strangely, her attempt at reassurance only seemed to heighten his disquiet.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I don’t want you getting involved in the duchy’s affairs,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

“I will not do anything dangerous, so don’t worry.”

“What on earth are you-”

“My lady! Please help!”

Ruth’s urgent cry broke through the tension, offering Maxi a welcome excuse from an interrogation. She hurried off to find the sorcerer.

He was in the field hospital, tending to the wounded alongside other healers. As soon as she entered, he directed her attention to the soldiers being carried in on stretchers.

“We need more healers. Please prioritize those in critical condition so we can save as many as possible.”