I AM A MAGE BUT WITH MILF SYSTEM

Chapter 881: The strength

At the center of the formation was a group of knights carrying a massive banner. It displayed the royal family’s formal symbol, a gryphon with a sword held beneath its wings.

The enormous banner rose high above the knights, its fabric moving gracefully in the morning breeze.

The royal knights themselves were a sight to behold.

Their armor was dark, almost the color of polished obsidian. The morning sunlight reflected from its surface with every step they took. Thin golden lines ran across their armor, covering the edges of their shoulders, chest plates, and helmets.

There was nothing excessive about their armor.

It was simple. It was powerful.

And it made their authority clear.

They marched straight into the courtyard without looking left or right. Their faces remained hidden behind their helmets, their movements perfectly synchronized.

Once they reached the center of the courtyard, the knights separated into two long lines.

One group moved to the left.

The other moved to the right.

They stopped at the same time and formed a path between them.

The sight alone was enough to make several servants lower their heads in respect.

Behind the knights came the royal musicians.

Trumpets sounded through the courtyard.

Toot! Toot! Taraa!

Drums followed immediately.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The musicians continued forward, playing as loudly as they could.

BAM!

BAM!

BAM!

The sound was almost overwhelming.

Julian remained perfectly still as he watched them approach. He had seen royal processions before, but never one this “grand.”

The sheer number of people involved made it difficult to look at everything at once.

After the musicians came more royal guards.

Unlike the first group, these knights carried long spears, with swords hanging at their sides. They moved more slowly as they entered and their eyes carefully scanned the surroundings.

The walls.

The rooftops.

The balconies.

Every entrance.

Every possible hiding place.

Julian noticed their movements immediately.

At first glance, there was almost no difference between these knights and the royal knights who entered before them. Their armor was the same dark obsidian color, decorated with the same subtle golden accents. Their weapons were similar, and they carried themselves with the same discipline.

But Julian knew better.

These were not ordinary royal knights.

They were the King’s Personal Knights.

Unlike the Royal Knights, who served under the command of the Royal Commander, the Personal Knights answered to only one person.

The King.

The difference was not in their armor.

It was in their loyalty.

King of Hermes was known to be a cautious man. Some even considered him overly careful when it came to his own safety.

The Royal Knights were the main military force of the royal family, but they ultimately answered to the Royal Commander. That gave the commander considerable authority over them.

The King had never been comfortable with that.

He understood that giving one man control over such a powerful force could become dangerous. The Royal Commander might be loyal to the crown, but the King did not want his own protection to depend entirely on another man’s command.

So he created a second force.

The King’s Personal Knights.

They operated separately from the Royal Knights and answered directly to the King. No order from the Royal Commander could override the King’s command over them.

Even more telling was the man chosen to lead them.

The King’s own younger brother.

A prince of Hermes.

That alone spoke enough of how cautious the king was.

*

Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly. The royal family were taking no chances.

More horses appeared behind the guards, their hooves banging the stone ground as they entered the courtyard.

Clop. Clop. Clop.

Their riders wore the same dark armor as the knights, but their shoulders carried the golden crest of the royal house.

The horses were large and well trained. Their coats shone under the morning sun, and their reins were decorated with dark blue and gold cloth.

The entire courtyard seemed to become quieter as they passed.

And finally, the royal carriage entered the courtyard.

It was massive, built entirely of gold.

The frame, the doors, the curved roof, even the long railings running along its sides were forged from the precious metal itself. Rarest ores and brilliant stones had been set into its surface, catching the sunlight with every movement and turning the carriage into a moving display of royal wealth.

Under the open sky of the Astran courtyard, it dominated the space around them.

For a moment, Julian could understand why someone might consider such extravagance natural.

A king entering a dukedom with the full weight of the crown behind him was expected to make an impression. Royal processions were meant to display power. Wealth. Authority.

But Julian could not accept the sight so easily.

The King was not entering a foreign kingdom.

He was not crossing into the territory of a rival monarch who needed to be intimidated or a foreign court that needed to be impressed.

This was Hermes.

Astran was already a part of the kingdom.

So why bring such a display of wealth and military power here?

Julian’s eyes moved past the golden carriage and toward the soldiers surrounding it.

The answer seemed increasingly obvious.

This was not merely ceremony.

It was a message.

A warning.

Julian glanced sideways at his father.

The Duke’s expression remained perfectly controlled, as it always did in the presence of outsiders. Yet Julian noticed the small details that others might have missed.

His father’s hand had closed into a fist.

A short distance behind him stood Commander Aldric. The veteran commander had faced battlefields, rebellions, and enemies that would have broken lesser men.

Yet even his usual composure had thinned.

Julian’s eyes turned back to the royal procession. And he understood why.

There were too many powerful figures among those who had already entered the courtyard.

Nearly fifteen Arch Mages.

The number alone was difficult to comprehend.

Even among the great houses of Hermes, Arch Mages were rare. One such mage could change the balance of a battlefield. Several could alter the outcome of a war.

Fifteen gathered in one place was something else entirely.

Around Julian, the more powerful members of the Astran household began to tense as they sensed the same thing. Some exchanged brief, uneasy glances. Others remained silent, their faces betraying what their words could not.

Even the lesser officers seemed shaken.

For some of them, it was as if everything they understood about power had suddenly been torn apart.

Astran stood at the peak of the kingdom’s hierarchy.

In ordinary years, that position carried enormous weight.