The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic

"Damn!"

"Quickly send the signal.The situation is changing first" the older man ordered, voice low but steady. "Tell them the Red Knights aren’t what we thought. They’re more than ready."

The younger figure nodded. He pulled out a small crystal embedded with glowing runes. Whispering into it, he sent the signal. As the crystal dimmed, he tucked it away and moved quickly, vanishing into the white storm.

.....

At the battlefield’s frontlines...

The icy wind howled, its sound rising like a warning bell across the snowy expanse. Snow blew harder now, slicing sideways like knives of frost. Still, the Red Knights stood their ground.

Albert gripped his sword tighter, his armor dented and scratched, stained with grime and dried blood. He shouted commands without rest, voice never faltering, even when the storm muffled everything.

Next to him, Heru moved through the chaos like a machine, his sword flashing with precision, his men following him without question leading the team of Baret, Garet and Chris who gave their best.

Despite the cold, he didn’t flinch, his face unreadable under his battle-worn helm.

Not far from them, Vic and Kassel held the center flank. Vic’s armor was scorched, steam rising as monster blood mixed with melting snow.

Kassel moved beside him, his sword dancing through the enemy ranks with ruthless efficiency. His hair, tied back tight, was already frosted over. Hia breath came out in hard puffs, but his eyes were focused, calm.