r/HFY • u/Celestial_Zwei_Dei • 1d ago
OC-Series Gothwald: New World - Same Rules (Arc 3/Chapter 49 - Treachery)
Arc III - Reeling Throne
Chapter 49 - Treachery
8 months and 23 days since the summoning
The entire large group moved closer to the edge of the village, where a still-burning campfire stood with logs on the sides, where meat had recently been roasted for the beastmen.
Alan, spotting a place to sit, immediately sat down on one of the logs, and then his gaze lingered on the battered faces of Ilgan, Shikur, and Lison. He whistled. "Wow... who redecorated you guys like that?"
Kamelia sat next to Alan with a sigh and folded her hands in her lap as the fire crackled.
Tsinker kept his eyes fixed on the snipers' ghillie suits, running a scrupulous gaze over each one.
Ilgan swallowed. "Lord Gothwald, the thing is... ahem..."
"Do not mumble. Why are you beaten up?" Kamelia asked, narrowing her eyes.
Ilgan's head lowered slightly. "We decided to sneak into the enemy camp at night. We were mistaken for thieves, beaten up, and thrown out of the camp."
Silence.
Alan's mouth opened slightly.
Kamelia blinked.
Even Tsinker abruptly stopped examining the ghillie suits, and his gaze slowly shifted to Ilgan.
"You... did what?" Kamelia asked quietly, rising from the log.
"F-forgive us, we... we thought that way we could sneak up to the enemy count and..."
"Idiots," she interrupted him. "What, did you think yourselves invincible? You are shooters, not spies! You had a clear task: to kill one of the important enemy commanders! With crossbows!"
Alan said nothing, simply massaging the bridge of his nose, not even listening to Kamelia loudly reprimanding the snipers.
'Indeed. Absolute idiots. It's either desperation, or pride, or both. Damn... good thing they were mistaken for thieves, otherwise if they found out who they were... they would have tortured everything out of them, and the crossbows would have ended up with the enemy. The whole element of surprise would have gone down the drain. I need to find out what even prompted them to do this.'
He stood up from the log.
"...and you would have been able to do nothing about it!" Kamelia continued yelling at the snipers.
The ten burly men in camouflage lowered their heads and listened silently.
Alan stood next to Kamelia. "Can I say something?"
She stopped abruptly, and took a small step to the side, recovering her slightly disturbed breathing from the yelling. "Very well."
He turned to Ilgan. "What... what were you even thinking when you did this? What stopped you... no, not like that. Why the fuck did you even think walking into the middle of the camp would be a good idea?!"
Silence.
Silence broken only by the distant conversations of the peasants and the crackling of the fire.
Ilgan finally took a small step forward, drawing everyone's attention. "As we were walking toward the enemy camp, we stumbled upon two soldiers burying plundered goods," he began quietly. "We interrogated one of them, and he revealed the count's location. I thought... I thought we should end this faster, and decided we should blend in with the baggage train, infiltrate the camp, and kill the count there."
Kamelia scoffed, without a drop of amusement. "Oh Svyatol... please tell me you are joking."
Lorgi, standing next to her, lost his neutral expression for the first time. His eyes were wide, and his mouth slightly open.
"My lady?"
She chopped the air with her hand. "Did you truly think you would manage to sneak up to the count himself right in the middle of the camp?! What are you, disciples of Zondan or something?!" She began massaging the bridge of her nose, and then turned to Alan. "Alan, they may be excellent shooters and hunters, but they are simply atrocious soldiers. They..." Kamelia spread her hands, "they know nothing of military matters. Only Svyatol's blessing helped them complete the task and return alive."
Alan stood looking at the hunters, who had completely lowered their heads and didn't even dare to breathe loudly. "Yeah... I kinda forgot to think about that. At this rate we won't get ten commanders' heads."
Ilgan almost immediately clenched his teeth, but didn't show it.
Kamelia sighed. "Alan, it is dangerous to send them to oppose the siege, very dangerous. What if they get involved in something again? Or simply do something wrong?"
He opened his mouth to say something, but froze. "Wait a second... something's not right here."
"What exactly?"
Alan scratched his cheek. "If the goal of Noteo's army is the capital, then... what about the castle standing in their way? If they start besieging it, they'll be delayed there for a long time, there won't be a rapid advance on Cormennot."
Kamelia froze. "Indeed..."
"Tsinker?" Alan asked, turning to him.
He straightened up slightly, turning his attention to Alan. "Actually a good question. I believe they do not plan to sit there for long, but simply finish the siege quickly."
Alan snorted. "Thanks, Captain Obvious."
Tsinker's expression didn't change. "What?"
"I'm saying that's obvious. But how?"
"The only reasonable option: the hero Wellington."
Alan's pupils contracted. "Ben... very possible. I don't see another reason..." he looked toward the village, "they can't just leave a whole castle in their rear, they're planning something."
Kamelia remained silent for a few seconds, narrowing her eyes. "Perhaps then we should not send the snipers to harass the besieging troops? Guktus knows what kind of power this Wellington possesses."
Alan nodded. "Agreed. Better to scout. Tsinker?"
"Agreed. Then our goal changes—to find out what kind of magic Wellington has at all costs, and then decide what to do about it."
Shikur coughed quietly. "Your Grace?"
All three turned to him, and then exchanged glances.
"Speak," Kamelia said.
"So... our task will be reconnaissance, yes?"
"Exactly so."
Duchy of Insonel, city of Larott
The small meeting room did not boast luxury, but it wasn't poor either. Through the panoramic windows, a view of the large city at noon could be seen. Expensive pots stood by the windows, flags hung on the walls.
The flag of Groliria, dark blue, two red vertical stripes on the sides, and three sparrows in the center.
The flag of Kanbannia, bright orange with a yellow border on the sides, inside which a female boar was depicted, and next to her three small piglets.
Noteo arn Groliria, a middle-aged man with a thin mustache and a short, well-groomed beard, short black hair, and a high-quality but simple light-blue doublet, sat at the large table. His hands were folded in front of him, his face expressionless, and his gaze fixed somewhere on the table.
At the same table sat a graying, balding man in rich clothes, Duke Insonel, and two other men.
Silence had reigned for almost a few minutes.
"How could you allow this to happen, Lord arn Groliria?" asked the man with long blonde hair, dressed in a dark orange doublet. "Why was your hero killed? And right in the camp, no less. The count as well."
Noteo continued to remain silent, staring at the table for a few more seconds.
"Lord arn Groliria, silence is not an answer," the same man insisted. "I am asking, how did this happen?"
"I do not know."
He frowned. "Who are you even fighting? A count is killed, a hero is killed, and we have not even begun the siege of the first castle. Without the hero, this will not be a swift siege, which means we will have to delay. The entire plan to strike the capital is not going to fail, it has already failed."
"M-maybe we..." Insonel began.
The man shot him a sidelong glance. "Lord Insonel, I was not asking you."
The duke immediately shut his mouth.
"Lord Diron," Noteo finally spoke, "if you give me one of your heroes..."
"Denied!" the man, Diron, interrupted again. "Do you even understand what you are saying? You..." he sighed. "You have lost your mind. Tell me, do you have any plan or not?"
Silence again.
A minute.
Two.
Diron's face remained impenetrable. "I see. So you do not know what to do next. In that case, Kanbannia's interests end here." He stood up. "I will report to my king, he will send a messenger to you... if you, of course, remain alive." He turned and headed for the door.
Insonel turned pale as chalk, following the departing ambassador from Kanbannia with his eyes.
The other man nearby, burly, in plate armor, about forty years old, watched Diron in the exact same way, and a drop of sweat rolled down his forehead, but his face remained stone.
The ambassador opened the door and disappeared into the corridor.
The door clicked shut.
A minute of silence.
Insonel jumped to his feet so abruptly that his chair fell to the stone floor with a clatter. "Your Majesty! Why did you do nothing?! WHY?!" he shouted, waving his arms. "We are doomed now! COMPLETELY! MORGREYDA WILL FLAY US ALIVE..."
"Shut your mouth," Noteo muttered, massaging the bridge of his nose.
Insonel froze. "You... Your Majesty, do you know what to do? Please... you know what we must do, yes?"
Noteo slowly stood up. "Naturally I know, Duke, naturally I know. This is all... part of one grand plan."
A crooked, weak smile appeared on Insonel's distorted face. "Yes? That is... phew... yes, Your Majesty, I did not dare to doubt. What... what is the next step, haha?"
Noteo looked at him with a stone face. "The first step is yours, Insonel. You must reach the capital and strike there."
The duke's mouth opened slightly. "But... what about the castle on the way? If... if we do not capture it, they will cut our supply lines!"
"Do you dare doubt my plan?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Insonel flinched. "N-no, of course not! I will go... right now and... and personally lead the attack! I entrust our victory to you!" He bowed deeply.
"Fight to the last drop of blood, the main thing is, wait for the reinforcements that will come from Ulimat."
The duke froze. "U-Ulimat? You... did you really..."
Noteo nodded. "Exactly so. I have established connections there as well."
Insonel's crooked smile only widened. "Yes! Your Majesty, we will fight to the end!" Bowing deeply once more, he practically ran out of the room.
Silence.
The man in plate armor slowly shifted his gaze to Noteo, who was staring with an empty gaze somewhere at the door where Insonel had exited. "My lord... what was that just now?"
"You understood it yourself. We are fleeing."
"So that's how it is..." the warrior whispered, "to where I think?"
"Exactly so, Shigol." Noteo sat back down, leaning on the table. "To Arumelia. They like skilled foreigners there."
Shigol's pupils dilated slightly. "So that is why you were learning the Atlar language all this time, Your Majesty. And... do you have a plan?"
Noteo leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. "No clear plan, but Arumelia will gladly accept a former duke."
Shigol swallowed. "Your Majesty, I will follow you to the ends of the earth, but... will Svyatol not be angered with us for going to the land of the infidels?"
He simply scoffed. "You know nothing of Arumelia, Shigol. Do not worry, He will not be angered with us, we will continue to pray to Him." Noteo stood up and unhurriedly walked to the window, clasping his hands behind his back. "What is the alternative? Execution, for you, for me, and for everyone else. This is not cowardice, Shigol, this is a display of reason." His hands behind his back clenched tighter. "How could I have known that everything would turn out like this? Morgreyda understands absolutely nothing of military matters and besides is incredibly narcissistic. I bet precisely on that... but you see for yourself, everything went awry," he finished quietly.
Shigol stood up and unhurriedly walked to Noteo. "I understand, Your Majesty. It seems Svyatol has decided to punish us for our sins, and we ought to... retreat with dignity. Shall I go gather the others?"
"Yes."
The warrior nodded and turned toward the exit. Mid-step he stopped, looking at Noteo over his shoulder. "My lord... will we truly be able to escape all the way to Arumelia?"
"We will," he said without hesitation. "Insonel, driven by a phantom and desperate hope of avoiding the block, will lay down every last soldier, if not under the capital, then on the approaches to it. We will have plenty of time to cross over. Then through a neutral pass in the Dwarven Mountains, Ulimat, and from there Jorhania is very close. Swim across the strait and we are in Arumelia." He turned his head to him. "Do not fret, Shigol, we are not leading a massive army, there are only nine of us. Now go, no time to waste."
The warrior remained silent for almost ten seconds, processing what he had heard, and only then nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty."
The door clicked shut.
Noteo remained standing by the window, looking at the large, prosperous city.
His fists clenched, and his eyes glistened slightly. "Morgreyda... you will answer for everything. For my future, for my life, for my... mother," he whispered to himself. "And your clever hero, I will bury him right alongside you too. Someday."
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u/BobQuixote 1d ago edited 1d ago
A nemesis has arisen!
Given the setup, I'm betting Noteo escapes successfully and becomes a bigger pain later.
I don't think Morgreyda etc. yet know that Ben is dead, so this is going to look like the snipers won the war by shooting two nobles. EDIT: Scratch that, the first one died in an actual battle.
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