Chapter Thirty-Six: What the Hell

At dawn, the sky was ablaze with crimson clouds. The contingent of the Divine Wind Knights had already arrived outside the city of Dallas. Although they had set out at the break of day, there was not the slightest sign of fatigue upon them. Their expressions were relaxed, their formation impeccable, and dewdrops still clung to their armor.

With a gesture from Barton, the group silently moved to the roadside to rest. The knights busied themselves with tending their armor, caring for their mounts, and taking a simple meal.

Barton gazed at the towering city walls of Dallas, so close at hand, his heart filled with complex emotions. He recalled the marshal’s instructions before departure.

This journey to Dallas carried a special mission: he was to reach out to Viscount Collin on behalf of the Marshal. Of course, to prevent the viscount from making exorbitant demands during negotiations, some necessary pressure would have to be applied.

Marshal Vaughn, as a marquis and commander of the entire Northern Legion—the kingdom’s bulwark against the Principality of Sain—had never truly needed to court a viscount so far removed from the capital’s power center. When he first took charge of the Silverwing Fortress, he had thought as much and thus kept little contact with Viscount Collin. But times had changed. Recently, Marquis Vaughn had encountered a host of unexpected difficulties.

First and foremost, the war at the frontlines had turned unfavorable.

When Vaughn was first granted his marshal’s scepter by the king, the Northern Legion’s morale soared thanks to his longstanding prestige, and they won several brilliant victories. But somehow the Principality of Sain had managed to muster a band of mercenaries—enigmatic and formidable. With their aid, not only was the Northern Legion’s momentum blunted, but Sain even gained the upper hand in several clashes.

Marshal Vaughn’s worries extended beyond the battlefront; he was also incensed by the foolish nobles back in the capital.

That faction, ever consumed by their own intrigues, not only failed to support the front, but actively hindered it. Years before, the proposal to elevate Marquis Vaughn to duke had been sabotaged by these same men. They spread endless rumors that Vaughn would become the next Duke of Sain, sowing suspicion in the royal family. As a result, the king had appointed a prince as overseer within the Northern Legion.

That was not the end of it. Requests for reinforcements and supplies from the front were endlessly delayed by the capital’s gentry. Barely a tenth of what was sent ever reached the hands of the soldiers.

At times, Barton could not help but wonder: if ever the Silverwing Fortress were to fall, and the iron cavalry of Sain came sweeping southward, what expressions would those nobles in the capital wear? Would they truly live up to the loyalty and patriotism they so often professed?

To alleviate these pressures, Marquis Vaughn had begun to court the local nobility around the Silverwing Fortress. Though far from the political heart of the kingdom, these men were veritable sovereigns within their own lands. Rallying them together would forge a force not easily ignored, providing crucial manpower and resources, and greatly strengthening their bargaining position with the capital.

Sometimes, Barton even suspected that Marshal Vaughn’s efforts to win over the local lords were meant as a hedge, just in case relations with the royal family ever soured. He could always follow the old example of Sain: carve out his own realm and declare himself king…

…

Just as the Divine Wind Knights were preparing to enter the city, a piercing, feline wail echoed once again from Andy’s chamber in the lord’s manor.

This time, Andy was innocent of any wrongdoing; he was simply tending to Katherine’s wounds.

The night before, Katherine had slipped out secretly to gather information, returning at dawn with injuries that alarmed Andy greatly.

Though Katherine’s offensive magic left something to be desired, her skills in stealth and concealment surpassed even Andy’s. She also possessed certain mysterious means he knew nothing about. Andy could not fathom who, now that the lord’s manor had lost most of its experts, could have harmed Katherine.

As he dressed her wounds, he questioned her and learned that she had been injured within the Mage’s Tower.

According to Katherine, the Mage’s Tower was now completely occupied by a group of bizarre Gillian individuals. They seemed deranged, yet possessed astonishing strength and speed.

Her investigation revealed that they were continuously murdering residents around the Mage’s Tower, carrying the corpses inside.

When Katherine tried to probe further, she was discovered by a strange man with the strength of an elite knight. She managed to escape only after much effort, but her hind leg was injured.

In truth, the man she had encountered was far more formidable than she let on, for Katherine had remained outside the Mage’s Tower. She had sent a newly subdued spirit inside to investigate, but even so, the man had detected it. He dispatched the spirit with ease, then cast Katherine a flirtatious glance and blew her a “kiss” that whistled through the air like an arrow.

Sensing danger from the sound, Katherine dodged with all her might—avoiding a fatal blow, but the attack struck her hind leg. Realizing the man was closing in rapidly, she quickly cast a mist spell, and as soon as its cooldown ended, followed with a silence spell.

Winding her way through the alleys in a circuitous route, she finally shook off her pursuer and returned to the manor.

Though wounded, Katherine’s excursion yielded much: not only had she discovered the abnormal happenings at the Mage’s Tower, she had also located Dallas’s secret supply depot—an enormous boon to their plan for Viscount Collin.

After hearing her report, Andy praised Katherine profusely, making her narrow her eyes in delight. He recalled from psychology books on Earth that this was a classic motivational technique: positive reinforcement.

Katherine, now in high spirits, demanded a reward from Andy. He guessed she wanted to hear a story, but instead of obliging, he decided to tease her: “How about I get you a little tomcat as a reward?”

To his surprise, this joke made Katherine’s mood plummet. Andy realized too late that he had touched a sore spot—she might pretend not to care, but surely it pained her to always be seen as a cat.

As he pondered how to console her, Katherine used her ventriloquism spell to speak:

“Senior Brother Andy, what do you think of me?”

“Huh? What do I think of you?” Andy was momentarily at a loss.

“I mean, what am I to you?”

Oh! Andy suddenly understood and replied with an awkward smile, “Like a little sister!”

“Your little sister?” Katherine’s voice, augmented by the spell, grew louder.

“Your little sister!” she repeated, raising her voice even more.

“Your little sister, your little sister!” she shouted again.

For the rest of the time, Andy watched as Katherine sulked in silence. Not even his usual stories could entice her attention. She busied herself savagely kneading a ball of yarn on the bed, looking for all the world like a real cat. Watching her, Andy could not help but think of that tall, childlike girl he had once buried.

Suddenly, Andy remembered the trophy he had seized the previous night—the “Joseph Mask” used by Bill to impersonate Viscount Collin. A thought struck him like lightning.

If the mask absorbed Katherine’s blood—or that of a suitable girl—and then was placed upon the little cat…

Wouldn’t that restore Katherine to human form?

At that realization, Andy could not sit still. With a bang, he dashed out and kicked open Bill’s door!