Chapter 684

"Thank you, Agent of the Saint!" Lucas smiled brightly.

Ian studied him for a moment before replying, "Both of you will continue commanding your soldiers as you have been. And remember this—the vice legion commander is Sir Mev Riurel."

"Yes. I will do my best, Agent of the... no, Your Excellency!" Lucas straightened at once and clasped his hands behind his back. It was a clear signal that, from this point on, he intended to treat Ian as his superior in every respect.

As Ian nodded, Edith said, "I have heard you are in need of supplies. We have already prepared them. Give the word, and we will send them straight to the Crimson Legion."

"Thank you." Ian turned toward the legion. "We’ll take them immediately."

By now, most of the troops had gathered around the braziers to rest. Cavalrymen tended to their mounts, while others wrapped themselves in cloaks, eating or stealing what sleep they could.

The centurions and senior officers kept casting glances in Ian’s direction, which was likely why Askel and Volber sprang to their feet without hesitation.

"Hand them over."

"Send the wagons as they are, then retrieve them afterward."

As Ian tilted his head slightly, Lucas and Edith turned to their respective adjutants. Both nodded almost simultaneously before hurrying off.

Askel and Volber moved to follow them. Ian raised his right hand to his mouth and murmured, "Call Thesaya."

Before he realized it, his gaze had already drifted toward the group’s carriage behind the brazier. Nasser lay sprawled across the driver’s seat, while Thesaya sat on the open door frame, speaking with Mev.

Yog chuckled softly and whispered at once.

—He says to come over, Pointy-Ear.

Thesaya paused and turned her gaze toward Ian. Mev, who had been speaking to her from Selim’s saddle, looked over as well. Ian gave Mev a faint smile, then tipped his chin toward Thesaya.

Tilting her head slightly, Thesaya rose without hesitation and climbed down. As she did, the figures inside the carriage briefly came into view. Phaden and Asme were speaking urgently to Seras, their expressions tense and grave.

So they’re still at it.

Watching Seras keep her eyes closed and refuse to respond, Ian swallowed a dry chuckle. The reason Phaden and Asme were so agitated was simple—Seras had decided to accompany them all the way to the battlefield.

She had even rejected Ian’s suggestion that she take shelter at the Temple of the Brazier.

Though I only said it out of courtesy.

Ian’s lips twitched faintly. In truth, he wanted Seras with them. She would be invaluable in suppressing the political fallout once the invasion was repelled. That said, she was of little use on the battlefield itself. That was why, while reluctantly yielding to her insistence, he had firmly ordered her never to leave the rear.

Since he had no intention of assigning separate guards, Phaden and his squire Alex, along with Asme, were the only ones protecting her. That was likely why Phaden and Asme were still desperately trying to change her mind.

"I apologize, Your Excellency," said Lucas, having watched the adjutants meet with the two centurions. "Given the time constraints, I was unable to meet the mercenary band in person."

Catching Ian’s gaze, he bowed slightly, hands still clasped behind his back.

"Instead, I dispatched an urgent messenger to convey your will, instructing them to rendezvous at Calbrook as quickly as possible."

"Will they be able to catch up to us?" Ian asked as he glanced toward the adjutants now leading the centurions back toward the troops.

Lucas nodded. "By now, the messenger should have arrived. It’s a tight schedule, but as long as they don’t waste time, they should make it. We’ll have to detour slightly, but they can come straight through."

Ian’s eyes narrowed faintly. It wasn’t a concern that the mercenaries would be late. If anything, fear of the consequences would drive them to push themselves harder than necessary.

"Why did you call for me, Agent of the Saint?" Thesaya’s voice came before Ian could reply. She had approached without a sound, her steps careful and composed, clearly mindful of Edith’s presence.

Ian turned to Edith, who was eyeing the silver-haired fairy with open curiosity.

"Thesaya Erenos. She is the head of the prestigious Erenos family of the South, a member of the Council of Elders, and the representative of the Deep Forest of the South."

"An elder... so you are a fairy," Edith murmured the words with quiet awe.

"She is also a blue high mage."

At that, Lucas, who had been exchanging silent greetings with Thesaya, showed a flicker of surprise.

The corners of Thesaya’s lips curved upward, clearly pleased. "Nice to meet you, Commander Edith. I heard you greeting the Agent of the Saint earlier."

"This is my first time meeting an elder fairy. It is an honor to meet you," said Edith.

Thesaya acknowledged him with a brief tilt of her chin before turning back to Ian.

"Elder, you will be riding Moro."

"...Me?" Thesaya paused, one eye twitching. The look clearly asked whether he truly intended to make her ride a horse in this blizzard and cold.

A blue mage who hated snow and low temperatures...

Ian shrugged. "You’re the only one suitable to ride it right now."

This time, Thesaya’s expression twisted openly. After a brief internal struggle, she smoothed her features and nodded. "If that is truly your wish, Agent of the Saint... very well."

Ian immediately looked to Moro.

With an audible huff of displeasure, Moro trudged toward her.

Eyes narrowed, Thesaya mounted in one smooth, practiced motion. Before she could even take the reins, Moro turned of its own accord and began plodding away, casting a lingering glance toward Nila as though reluctant to leave.

Snort...

Nila, of course, paid it no attention. Clearly pleased that Ian was riding it, it rubbed its head against his arm once more.

A low whisper brushed across Ian’s mind almost at the same moment.

—I truly don’t understand why you would choose to ride something radiating such revolting heat.

That heat alone is reason enough.

Ian shifted his gaze toward the supply wagons now moving toward the legion behind the centurions. Two adjutants sat atop the cargo, checking the supplies as they went.

This would be enough to equip more than two hundred men.

Stroking Nila’s mane, Ian nodded. In practice, the equipment would be shared and redistributed. Barbarian warriors were particular by nature, taking only what suited their preferences. It still wouldn’t be perfect, but even so, it would go a long way toward properly arming the legion.

"When you said we’d detour, was that because of the gate?" Ian asked, continuing to stroke Nila’s mane.

Even in the cold, the faint orange sheen of its coat radiated a gentle warmth.

"Yes." Lucas nodded at once, exchanging a glance with Edith before continuing, "The guards at the gate would not wish to block your path, Your Excellency. However, they cannot disobey the order of His Grace the Archduke."

Barbarians were not permitted to enter the mainland to begin with. Now that they were moving as a full legion, there was no chance the gates would be opened for them.

"That’s fair. No matter how urgent things are, we can’t splash trouble onto innocent people." Ian smacked his lips and nodded.

Of course, the gate might open if he personally took the lead. But in that case, the entire guard force would be unable to escape punishment.

The archduke was not one to forget such matters. Even if he held back for now out of caution toward Ian or the princess, retribution would come eventually.

"Commander Edith served at Badifel Fortress for many years. He knows a route that will take us to Calbrook as quickly as possible without passing through the gate," said Lucas.

Edith nodded. "There is a way north of Travelga. Some sections of the road narrow or grow rough, but it will only add about a day and a half compared to passing through the gate."

"Then we’ll make up the difference with our legs," Ian answered without hesitation.

Taking hold of Nila’s reins, he turned his gaze to Edith. "Lead from the front when we depart."

"I will do so, Your Excellency," Edith replied, his hands clasped behind his back.

Ian swung himself up onto Nila’s saddle.

Looking up at him, Lucas asked, "When will we depart?"

"Once the legion has had sufficient rest. When your preparations are complete, fall in with the troops."

With that, Ian shook the reins lightly. Nila stepped forward toward the waiting legion.

Lucas watched the back of the departing legion commander, hands still clasped behind him. After a moment, he straightened and let out a sigh.

"We’ll need to brace ourselves."

"Because of the march?"

At Edith’s question, Lucas turned to look at him. "Have you never heard of the Crimson Legion’s rapid march?"

"I’ve heard they’re fast."

"It’s more than that. I’ve heard they scarcely rest at all outside of sleep. They simply keep moving, endlessly under the blessing of the Blazing Goddess."

Only then did Edith’s expression stiffen. He clearly understood the implication—that without divine blessing, such a pace would be impossible to endure.

Lucas let out a resolute snort and turned toward the soldiers. "Let’s move. Everyone seems to be gearing up properly, but tell them to lighten their loads as much as possible. Otherwise, they won’t last."

It was a decision Edith and the soldiers themselves would come to appreciate over the long march ahead.

***

The snow showed no sign of letting up, even after they entered the main territory. Rivers and streams lay frozen solid, while mountains and fields alike were painted in stark bands of white and black.

"

Huff... huff...

"

The legionnaires advancing along the main road had no attention to spare for the scenery. They pushed forward on ragged breaths, eyes fixed on the back of the soldier ahead. There was no energy left for conversation, nor any room to admire the view—especially once the road began its steady climb uphill.

"Of all times for trouble, it had to be winter...."

Still, not everyone was being driven to the edge of their stamina.

Near the center of the procession, Thesaya rode atop Moro alongside the wagons. Physically, she was holding up just fine. What was wearing thin instead was her patience.

Marching in silence along a frozen road, hemmed in by taciturn barbarian warriors, was a form of torture all its own.

Biting her lower lip, her gaze drifted across the formation to Mev, riding Selim.

"

...Tsk

." She clicked her tongue softly.

That stubborn redhead was impossible to negotiate with. The moment you granted her an exception, she would insist there was no end to it. Thesaya could already picture the infuriatingly firm reply.

Her eyes slid forward instead, settling on Ian riding a short distance ahead of the procession.

As always, his expression was unreadable as he gazed past the marching legion toward the snow-covered ridges beyond. The blurred outline of the city ahead was familiar to her as well, but she felt no interest in it.

"Let’s go to your master, Moro," she whispered and shook the reins.

With a snort, Moro peeled away from the procession at once. For once, the beast offered no resistance—clearly because Nila was waiting ahead.

As Ian’s back drew closer, Thesaya said, "Couldn’t we slow down just a little today, Ian?"

𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"No," he answered without even glancing back.

As Moro fell in alongside Nila, Thesaya continued, "We’ve already passed Travelga. We’re moving fast enough as it is. At this rate, everyone’s going to collapse the moment we arrive. Me included. I’m cold, and my thighs hurt."

"You’re not wrong." Ian finally turned to look at her.

Thesaya immediately put on her most pitiful expression.

After a moment, Ian nodded forward. "Once we’re fully past this ridge, tell them to set up camp somewhere suitable. We’ll rest a bit early today."

"Really? Got it. I’ll let them know." Thesaya nodded, her eyes lighting up, then added as casually as she could manage, "Since we’re talking about it, can I hand this one off and ride in a carriage instead?"

"What, are you planning to drive one?" Ian asked back with a low snort.

Thesaya shook her head in surprise. "No. Not with Half-Ear and Prosthetic. The pampered nobles from the capital are the only ones riding comfortably."

Driving a carriage was much harder work than riding a horse. The driver’s seat was narrow and unforgiving, rattling constantly with every jolt of the road.

Ian shrugged beneath his cloak. "I doubt they’d want to leave Her Highness’s side."

"I can take over for a while. It must be stifling being stuck in there." Thesaya already had a way to lure that knight, but she kept the idea to herself.

Ian nodded nonchalantly. "Well, do as you please."

"Okay. Let’s go, Moro.

Huh

? I said let’s go."

Fearing he might change his mind, Thesaya tugged hard on the reins. Moro, which had been staring at Nila with smoldering intensity, finally turned away, its reluctance plain to see.

"Don't lose your temper. You'll be able to come see her again soon. Trust me."

Hearing her whisper to the horse, Ian let out a quiet chuckle. It was obvious she was plotting something.

Snort...

While Nila snorted as if scoffing, Ian looked to the right. Travelga’s lights had already faded far behind them, nearly swallowed by darkness and the storm.

Well, we did make it here fast—

The thought cut off abruptly as he snapped his head forward. Beyond the winding, snow-covered ridge ahead, the endless gray clouds flared with a sudden, ominous violet light.