Read Novel Full Chapter 1296 Is It Over?
Chapter 1296 Is It Over?
At the same time, across the entire duchy, the effects of the Royal Stabilization Mandate have become evident.
In Winterwood territory, Eric watched a column of armored men ride through his gates. Orichalcum glinted on their breastplates. The sigil of the royal family hung from their shoulders.
The King's men.
Inside the foyer of Winterwood Manor, servants stepped aside, wide-eyed. Eric's fingers curled behind his back as the captain approached him.
"Lord Winterwood," the captain began. "By order of King Alexios, we are here to secure your household and surroundings. No harm will be allowed to reach the lord of the Greenvale soldiers currently deployed."
Eric's relief was clear on his face.
But behind his expression, beneath the veneer of polite gratitude, his thoughts drifted to Quinlan.
The king had not recalled the Greenvale vassals' forces from the large army.
He had not crippled Alastair's forces by giving the nobles back their troops they'd donated for the cause earlier.
Instead, he had fortified their estates himself.
Alexios protected the homeland, strengthened morale, and kept the fronts stable, and he did it all without cutting Alastair's legs off.
Eric nodded in gratitude to the captain, though his thoughts wandered, 'My lord… how will you maneuver now?'
The soldiers entered the manor. The steel of their boots echoed against stone floors. Outside, more spread out through the district, posted at gates, rooftops, and roads.
And it was happening all over Greenvale.
Every noble house. The king had sealed the duchy in a wall of steel.
…
Far from Winterwood, three silhouettes dropped from the clouds like falling stars. The air shook as they touched down before the incoming army from the western fields.
Morgana's cloak billowed behind her as she straightened. Lilith landed beside her, quiet and watchful. Kaede touched the ground last, eyes sharp as she scanned the army ahead.
Across the plain stood fifty thousand armored soldiers, sporting Ravenshade steel. A disciplined wall of spears, shields, and banners stretching across the horizon.
At their front was a man wrapped in a blackened plate with the crest of a raven pulled taut across his cloak. One of Tharion Ravenshade's generals. A veteran with scars on every visible inch of exposed skin.
…
Back in the Vesper Consortium's main war tent, Maelstrom slammed both palms on the table, rattling cups and ink pots.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"
The map spread before him was covered in markers, noting troop movements, supply routes, and skirmish sites. And every time he moved a piece, another complication appeared.
He dragged his hand through his hair, pacing.
"Alastair kept all two hundred thousand of his troops. Ravenshade just marched in with fifty thousand of their own. And they're teaming up with the three fucking bitches of my nightmares!"
He jabbed a finger at the map hard enough to leave a dent.
"And the king… that old fox… he's reinforced the noble estates. All of them. Every soldier in Greenvale knows their lord is safe now. No drop in morale. No panic. No desertion."
His voice cracked with frustration.
"He sealed the duchy from the inside without taking a single man from Alastair's command!"
The general of the Consortium stood across from him with sweat building at his temples. The man swallowed, eyes locked on the stacked markers showing their encirclement.
Alastair's massive army pressing from the south.
Ravenshade's force approaching from the west.
And the king stabilizing the interior.
The army general of the syndicate looked down at the map, and his throat tightened.
'Is this it?'
He felt it. The Consortium was about to be toppled at long last.
…
Quinlan and his women walked through the manor with a steady pace as voices slid through their minds one after another.
<Winterwood Estate fully secured. Troops at every entrance.> <The king's banner is above my walls. They are drilling in the courtyard.>
<My lord, the captain says their orders are to remain indefinitely.>
Quinlan listened without interrupting. His steps echoed through the hall, each one slow and unhurried. He reached the central staircase when Eric added, <My lord… forgive me. Alexios committed real numbers. Hundreds at every major estate. Thousands for the larger ones.>
Another noble chimed in from the north district, <They built wardstones around the perimeter. At least three layers. They're treating my home like a fortress.>
Another: <The captain checked every room. They're not pretending. They're here to stop… well… you.>
Quinlan reached the bottom of the stairs and grinned, impressed by Alexios.
The king had indeed poured resources into protecting every Greenvale noble household. The scale wasn't symbolic; that much was certain.
Technically, Quinlan could still breach them.
If he went all in, bringing Black Fang and the whole gang with him. This would've been far too slow a pace for Quinlan and the current situation. If they had to fight a bloody skirmish in tight corners and through defensive wards at every single household they visited, then the cons simply outweighed the pros.
Not only would Quinlan not level up quickly enough, but neither would the damage he causes be large enough to have the same effect as the first time. Right now, he had about 25% of the Greenvale households under his command; thus, he still had work to do in the duchy. It wasn't like he got through them all in one night.
But thanks to Alexios, it became a tall order.
The problem was even made worse by the existence of Kaede.
She could open a portal from anywhere. Quinlan pictured it clearly: he steps foot on a fortified estate, breaks the first line through lots of effort, the guards call for aid, and Kaede appears with a squad at her back, bringing Morgana, Lilith, and their allies.
Quinlan shook his head. "Clever old fox."
Alexios sealed the duchy so that every attack would be met instantly by a portal-delivered strike force.
But Quinlan had had enough. He was tired of not being at the peak. If one asked him, it was about damn time he could butt heads with the strongest of them all.
Thus, he was not going to slow down. Until he reached level 50, there would be no stopping this freight train.
Why was he so incredibly motivated all of a sudden?
It wasn't only because of the intense head game he received from Lucille, no. While that in itself was a great motivational force, there was something else at play as well.
He'd received intel. Finally, he knew how the peak looked, down to the very dot.
While he was busy enjoying the warmth of his women, Quinlan gave Rosie one single duty.
Nag Black Fang until she gave in.
Until she revealed her stat points.
After multiple hours of the woman ignoring Rosie, the dryad brought out her biggest weapon.
Crocodile tears combined with begging Black Fang Auntie to tell her so that 'Rosie could protect her family.'
Quinlan suspected that Black Fang wasn't so easy to get emotional like this; the woman had probably had enough of listening to the girl's incessant crying. One's stat points were a great secret; asking them was akin to asking someone about his bank balance back on Earth, but even more serious, as it could be used to strategize against them. In a cutthroat world like this, revealing such info about oneself was rare.
However, while Black Fang didn't reveal it when Quinlan kindly asked, it seemed that if someone annoyed her enough, she didn't consider it a secret that must be kept at all costs, not before him and his family.
And her stats went as such:
[Name: Black Fang]
[Race: Human]
[Level: 74]
[Stats]
…
Sorry, that was a bit mean...