Time slowly ticked by.
One night, Arcadia quietly left the camp, with two knights following behind him.
They moved quickly and soon had gone some distance from the camp, arriving at a secluded spot.
Several figures were already standing there, seemingly having waited for quite some time. When they heard footsteps approaching, they all turned to look toward Arcadia.
"Arcadia, you're here."
A deep voice came from ahead.
Several figures emerged from the shadows and slowly approached Arcadia and the others.
They were warriors clad in light green leather armor. Their expressions were cold, and even as they faced Arcadia, the legendary First Knight of the North, they showed not the slightest hint of fear.
Behind them stood a young man who looked quite youthful, though his face bore clear signs of age and hardship.
"Sol, what did you call me out here for?"
Looking at the young man before him, Arcadia's eyes held a rare trace of wariness as he asked.
As his partner, he knew all too well how powerful the seemingly young man before him was. He was certainly no weaker than Arcadia himself.
At Arcadia's call, the young man named Sol turned around and looked at him calmly. "I came to tell you that the previous plan is nearly complete. Apart from a few who slipped through the net, our people have killed everyone we sent them after."
"Slipped through the net?" Arcadia echoed, latching onto those words in confusion.
"The Half-elf who got away—the young knight you specifically warned us about."
Sol's expression turned thoughtful. "He's impressive. To deal with that boy, I sent two capable knights and a small squad of elite warriors, yet he killed every last one of them by himself."
"It's hard to imagine. When I was his age, I wasn't even a knight yet."
"Hmph!" Arcadia snorted, sounding displeased. "I warned you to keep an eye on that boy. It seems you didn't take my words to heart."
Sol shook his head. "It's already happened. There's no point dwelling on it now."
"I came here to tell you that we can begin the next phase of the plan."
His expression settled back into calm as he looked at Arcadia. "For over a month, our people have been lying low nearby under your cover. Any further delay will do none of us any good."
"Our man inside the castle is ready. We'll strike in seven days. Then it'll be your turn and mine."
···········
Voices continued to rise and fall in that place. After an unknown length of time, Arcadia finally emerged from the corner, with the same two knights who had accompanied him still following behind.
His expression was calm, as though nothing had happened. He slowly made his way back to his camp.
Several days later, on a bright, sunny morning, Count Polia sat quietly in his hall, studying a thick stack of papers.
Lately, the North had been plagued by one disturbance after another, leaving its de facto ruler feeling overwhelmed.
In the northern region of the Kingdom of Arius, House Falkus had ruled for nearly a hundred years. Though the region still nominally belonged to the Kingdom of Arius, in practice it was little different from an independent kingdom.
As a frontier bordering several northern kingdoms, the North had never been particularly peaceful. Every few years, it would go to war with one of its northern neighbors, plunging the whole region into turmoil.
Only after Polia took over House Falkus and became the North's de facto ruler did the chaos begin to subside. With an iron hand, he gradually brought order to the region and tightened his grip on it.
But lately, things in the North had been going badly. First, the Orcs in the northern mountains rose up, consuming much of the North's wealth and manpower. Then the border grew restless, as large numbers of bandits and Orcs poured in and threw the region into turmoil.
Meanwhile, Arcadia, the North's First Knight, had returned in triumph, his reputation soaring. He had also been stirring up trouble of his own, posing a serious threat to Polia.
The thought made his head ache. An unprecedented weariness welled up inside him.
He was already old, nearly fifty now—a senior citizen by the standards of this world. His energy and stamina were nowhere near what they had once been.
Perhaps, once I've dealt with this mess, it'll be time to let Edward start taking over.
The thought crossed his mind, leaving him feeling weary.
A breeze began to stir behind him. Hearing it, Polia slowly rose to his feet, suddenly sensing that something was wrong.
"Cadiz!" he shouted.
"My lord, I'm here!" A familiar, deep voice answered at once, just as it always had.
Hearing his captain of the guard's familiar voice, Polia felt a moment of relief and instinctively turned toward the sound.
Clang!
The sound of a sword being drawn rang out suddenly, followed by a fierce gust of blade wind that swept toward Count Polia, making his face sting.
A sword appeared before his eyes, its tip nearly touching his face.
"You!" Polia's heart jolted. Feeling the sword thrusting toward him, he threw himself to the side.
Even caught off guard by the assassination attempt, his Great Knight physique let him react quickly. After narrowly dodging the first strike, he seized the chance to draw the sword at his waist and counterattacked his opponent without hesitation.
The two superhuman Great Knights fought fiercely in the hall, each attack aimed at the other as if neither cared whether he lived or died.
Clang!!
Their swords clashed in midair with a violent crash.
Using the force of the recoil, Polia and Cadiz separated, finally gaining a brief moment to catch their breath.
"Why?" he shouted at Cadiz, his face twisted slightly with fury.
"Polia! Do you remember the boy you beat to death more than ten years ago?"
Cadiz's face was contorted with rage, making him look terrifying. "That was my son!"
Polia was stunned by those words and hadn't yet had time to react when Cadiz lunged at him again, pulling him back into their fierce battle.