The silence was absolute. Throne's prosthetic blade slid out without a sound. Then the screaming started—bestial howls of pain.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
The war chant rolled over them like thunder. Finlay and the others exchanged glances.
If they hadn't watched Throne shift his appearance with their own eyes, they might've believed the Valkyrie herself had returned. Marais dug his nails into his palms, muttering over and over—fake, it's fake. O'Neil and Loretta stayed calm, speaking volumes with a single shared look.
If Her Highness remained asleep, having this man step in when the Haligtree teetered on the edge wasn't the worst outcome.
"The Haligtree Army marches!"
War horns bellowed. Even without Ordina's vantage point, they weren't deaf—the battle cries reached them, wild and unhinged. Ordovis frowned. Troops mobilizing was expected. This fervor wasn't.
He snatched a monocular from an attendant. Gears shrieked as a massive stone bridge heaved itself from the sea. Years underwater had left it crusted with seaweed. This was where the Haligtree Army had begun their doomed campaign over a decade ago.
From here, they'd crossed the isthmus, marched past Castle Sol, thousands of miles south. When they limped back in defeat, every path to the Haligtree was severed. This bridge was never meant to rise again.
Ordovis raised the monocular. The metal casing crumpled in his grip.
"My lord, what do you see?" Caerlus asked.
Crucible Knights didn't lose composure. Not after centuries. Not ever.
"See for yourselves."
Monoculars snapped up. A collective breath held.
Beneath the Haligtree's massive royal banner, a figure on a white horse advanced. Formidable knights flanked her. Ranks of soldiers stretched behind.
"Malenia? Impossible!"
The rider looked like the Valkyrie through the lens. At least, close enough.
"How impossible? Was that aura two days ago a collective hallucination?"
Moras licked cracked lips. That power had made his bones vibrate from ten thousand meters away.
"She's back. And now of all times!"
They'd just stolen her land. Slaughtered her people. The true owner had returned, and Malenia didn't lead armies for tea parties. War lived in her title. Saints didn't wield swords like hers.
They were screwed. Not just bloodied—they'd carved hatred into the Haligtree's heart. If they'd known Malenia would wake, they'd have stayed safe in Leyndell.
Ordovis felt no fear. After killing demigods, one Valkyrie barely registered. But the timing nagged at him. Why now? Who had she fought when that power erupted days ago?
"Something's wrong. Too convenient. Could be an impostor."
"The sword intent was real. I've seen Malenia in Leyndell—that was her aura."
"Then where's that Carian Knight? Why isn't he here?"
Monoculars lifted again, scanning. They saw Sellen, but not Throne. This was a point of suspicion; surely that Carian Knight wasn't born with a death wish, going through all that trouble to get to the Haligtree just to fight Malenia, right?
"Lord Ordovis, I've studied this man. He works alone. Doesn't charge in like common knights—specializes in ambushes."
The group turned to look and saw that the Crucible Knight speaking was none other than Cabine-Ivus.
"You mean he is hiding within the army, preparing to strike at a critical moment?"
"It is very likely."
Ordovis couldn't help but frown. One Malenia was manageable, but if you added that Carian Knight who specialized in sudden sneak attacks, who could block such a fast blade?
But without even seeing the person, he was unwilling to just turn back. He clenched his fists, his brain working at high speed. Should they retreat, or go and intercept? He couldn't make up his mind. Just then, Malenia, having crossed the long bridge, pulled on the reins to make the white horse rear up, and raised her sword high. Sunlight reflected off the blade, making it shimmer.
Because of the distance, they couldn't see clearly, but that momentum capable of shattering mountains and breaking seas made people instinctively turn their heads away rather than look directly at it. Ordovis forced his eyes open. After focusing for a few seconds, he saw the sword edge swing down heavily toward them. The sea wind howled, and nothing happened; however, in an instant—
Splash!!
The surface of the sea was cleaved open, forming a sword mark dozens of meters long. The sea wind brushing against their faces seemed to turn into razor blades, causing their skin to ache faintly. Such killing intent was truly sharp... Even from such a great distance, the invisible killing intent mixed with the sea wind actually caused physical pain. The atmosphere froze instantly.
Ordinary knights couldn't help but instinctively draw their longswords to resist, and even their breathing became heavy. This was the real Valkyrie, the Valkyrie at full strength. Ordovis did not counter the killing intent with his own battle spirit; instead, he loosened his fists, flicked his cloak, and turned around decisively.
"Order the entire army to retreat!"
Finally, they retreated! Throne looked at the figures on the cliff, watching the golden banner being withdrawn, and clenched his fists tightly. He had used 120% of his strength in that strike just now to project that power all the way to that distant cliff. His muscles were now a bit numb.
If they didn't retreat even after that, it could only mean that Godfrey himself had arrived, in which case there would be no need to continue forward; he would just turn back the way he came. That strike had made the Crucible Knights decide to retreat, and it also left the long bridge in silence. After a moment, a roar of cheers like a mountain landslide erupted.
"Her Highness, ten thousand victories!!"
In the eyes of the soldiers, this strike heralded the return of the Valkyrie—a Valkyrie at full strength. It also signaled that a new expedition had begun, and this time, they wouldn't be slinking back to the Haligtree in disgrace.
As for those like Finlay who knew the truth, they looked at each other, thinking that Throne had gone too far; he was practically qualified to steal the nest from the magpie. However, even if Her Highness from over a decade ago were here, she might not have been able to unleash that strike. Setting aside their vigilance, they all bowed in respect to the strong.
They only felt that this misunderstanding had become even harder to clarify. If the truth were revealed, it would be a devastating blow to morale. Good, that is exactly the effect I wanted. Throne patted Torrent, who had been painted white, and took a breath of the pungent, fishy sea breeze, letting his boiling blood gradually calm down.
Regardless of how likely he was to pull off that strike in actual combat, he had successfully pulled off the bluff, and that was enough. Borrowing the momentum of the Haligtree Army, he had applied a patch. After all, no one knew Miquella's current state. If he couldn't complete the request, he could use another method to utilize the Haligtree.
"Teacher, stand by my side."
"Very well."
Sellen heard this and urged her horse to follow, causing the army on the bridge to freeze in surprise. This was the absolute trust of a king. In the past, such an honor should have been bestowed upon Finlay, but they remembered that it was this sorceress who had awakened Her Highness, so they ceased their suspicions. They had been played by him again.
Seeing this scene, how could Finlay and the others not understand? But it was too late to realize it now. Throne had borrowed this 'momentum' and then turned around to hold them hostage. They exchanged glances. Forget it, at least matters regarding His Highness Miquella still required his help. Resigned, the army continued to march forward and soon entered the isthmus.
Throne rode at the very front, looking up at the cliffs on both sides, finally finding the answer. So this was how the massive Haligtree Army had begun their expedition. A decade ago, that military might must have been even more magnificent than it was now. But now, in this second expedition, the one leading them had become a fake.
Like Caelid, the Haligtree had also withdrawn from the race for the throne. For these two most powerful lords of a decade ago, their fates were surprisingly similar.
"So, let the rest be done by me and Caria."
Throne raised his head and saw a massive fortress at the end of the isthmus. Because of the winter cold, its outer walls were covered in icicles.
This was Castle Sol, occupied by the Banished Knight. As the Haligtree's frontline fortress, it stood against any enemy forces that came to attack. If Ordina were lost, it would mean surrendering the vantage point; if Castle Sol were lost, it would mean the enemy was at the gates.
Military equipment was still scattered in the snow around it; it was clear that the Leyndell Army had left in a hurry, with some trebuchets and ballistae even smashed and left behind. As the army approached, the main gate of the fortress slowly lowered, and the disabled general led a group of Banished Knights out in two rows.
They had already received the news and uniformly struck their chests with their right hands.
"Her Highness, you have finally come."
Throne stared at them quietly and said slowly, "Loyal and brave knights, your steadfastness is your honor."
His voice was indistinguishable from Malenia's—cold and sharp. This made Sellen's eyes light up; she hadn't expected her apprentice to have such a unique skill. But upon reflection, for a demigod-level powerhouse, vocal mimicry was not a difficult task.
"We are merely fulfilling our promise."
Niall did not notice anything unusual and shouted in a hoarse voice, "The Leyndell Army hasn't gone far. Please let us follow your banner and bury them in this snowstorm!"
Throne keenly felt that the Haligtree Army was different from before. While they had been dutiful and fearless before, they had ultimately lacked a backbone. He once again felt the weight of the words 'Valkyrie'. He was somewhat tempted. Using the Haligtree Army to make a 'Rivers of Blood' of the Leyndell Army would be ideal, but after thinking it over carefully, he chose to give up.
Firstly, Finlay and the others would never be willing to pull chestnuts from the fire for Caria, and secondly, the illusion mask would fail during high-intensity combat, which would be troublesome if his cover was blown.
"A new war is about to begin; it is not yet time for us to appear."
The highest realm of acting is to immerse oneself completely, thinking from Malenia's perspective.
"Are we just going to let them leave?"
Niall was unconvinced. His subordinates were already few in number, and quite a few had been killed by the trebuchets. Throne couldn't be bothered to explain. Riding on his horse, he replied coldly, "This is my decision. Do you have an objection?"
"I dare not."
Niall quickly bowed and retreated, his heart filled with joy.
The blade's edge in her bearing—she was back. These Haligtree zealots were pathetically easy to deceive. A single frosty glance did the work. Pity I won't be there to see Niall's face when the truth gut-punches him. Roleplaying amuses, but time's a luxury now. Throne lifted his right hand, slow as a drawn blade.
Finlay stiffened—then recognition flared. That slight tilt of the wrist, the barest crook of fingers—Her Highness's summons, replicated down to the breath. She spurred her mount forward.
"Full army encampment here. You two—with me."
"Understood! All forces into the city!"
No hesitation. The order might as well have been carved into her bones.
None dared question Malenia's whims, not with that reputation. Throne guided his horse to the roadside, watching the steel tide roll past, every helm raised in fervor. Marais's gaze burned hotter than the rest. Pathetic. So starved for her presence he'd lick the boot of any impostor.
Not my type. Throne turned away, digging his heels in. The thunder of marching faded behind him as he crested a ridge and reined in. From this height, Leyndell's rearguard still shimmered in the distance.
The knights spotted the silhouette atop the slope. They moved to intercept—then froze. That armor. That stance. They broke like startled deer, shedding helms, trampling their own tabards in the scramble. Not bad. Malenia's mere shadow sends men pissing themselves.
A twinge of envy. Throne's reputation might curl the lips of faction leaders, but your average footsoldier required... demonstrations. Bloody, noisy demonstrations.
"Your stop."
Throne kept his eyes on the retreating forces.
"I'll handle the request. Guard Castle Sol. Wait for the signal."
He turned. The mask came off. Finlay removed her helm. Snow caught in her gold-lit hair as she pressed her lips thin—then snapped them open.
"I'm coming with you."
Throne arched a brow. Malenia's voice still coated his words.
"Justify."
"Retrieving Lord Miquella is my duty. I won't freeload."
"Transaction. Honor's irrelevant."
"Then call it a trial. I fight at your side."
Throne actually considered it—for three full seconds. Then the headshake.
"Stay. Castle Sol needs you. The Haligtree needs you. I'm counterfeit goods, remember?"
Half-truth. The rest? Too many secrets. That iron-willed knight intrigued him, sure, but some fires weren't worth the burn.
Disappointment flickered across Finlay's face—then vanished. Commanders don't sulk.
"Your will be done. Farewell, Lord Throne."
Their gauntlets met. She wheeled her mount downhill, swallowed by the blizzard inside a dozen hoofbeats.
"She wants more than your orders."
Sellen materialized at his elbow like mist.
"Noted."
"Passing up fresh test material?"
Throne shot her a deadpan stare. When did the witch start sniffing romance like a bloodhound?
Why does she always look at people through colored glasses?
"Romance? In the Lands Between? You lot already give me migraines."
"Migraines?"
"Literal ones. Just stop trying to gut each other."
Sellen's hum vibrated with offense.
"Am I truly so difficult?"
That's right—your nickname is the Eccentric Sorceress. You spent decades holed up in the Haligtree, and everyone kept their distance.
"You've got no emotional intelligence. Here's my advice: before you open your mouth or lift a finger, try stepping into their shoes first."