Chapter 10 : Chapter 10
Chapter 10. Conversation, War in the Northern Frontier
The two chatted about family matters for a while longer when Marquis Peter suddenly looked at William, his tone carrying a hint of earnestness.
“Little William, could you select a few attendants from the Peter family?”
William’s hand holding the wine glass paused slightly as he looked up at him.
“Grandfather, are you speaking to me now as an elder, or as a Marquis?”
Marquis Peter was momentarily stunned, but he quickly understood what William meant.
If he was speaking as a Marquis, then he was trying to use the title of royal attendant to bring benefits to his family.
If he was speaking as an elder, then it was simply a matter of familial affection.
Beside them, Vivian quietly tugged at William’s sleeve, signaling him to soften his tone.
William glanced at his mother. Vivian gently shook her head.
Marquis Peter smiled faintly. The probing look in his eyes faded, replaced by sincerity.
“As your grandfather, I am speaking to you about this.”
William remained silent for a moment before nodding.
“Although I do not know what conflicts existed in the past, you are still my grandfather.”
“If the title of prince’s attendant is useful to the Peter family, then send five people tomorrow.”
Marquis Peter’s eyes immediately lit up. The wrinkles on his face spread with relief as he quickly said, “Thank you, little William.”
Vivian also let out a quiet breath of relief and teased with a smile, “Father, now you can rest easy, can you not?”
“Yes, yes, I can rest easy now.”
Marquis Peter nodded repeatedly, though his voice carried a trace of emotion.
“Even if one day I am no longer here, the Peter family will not…”
“Father!” Vivian interrupted him, her tone filled with reproach.
“Why say such things? It ruins the mood.”
“William is a prince, and I am still the princess consort. How could the Peter family decline?”
Marquis Peter smiled faintly and did not reply.
He had experienced too many storms in his life. Some truths did not need to be spoken aloud.
The waters of the royal capital were too deep. The great ducal families were watching like hungry wolves. The Peter family, relying solely on the title of “the princess consort’s maternal family,” would eventually be drawn into the whirlpool.
Unless they could follow William to his future fief and leave this center of power struggles behind…
Otherwise—
William observed everything quietly and understood most of it.
He lifted his glass of fruit wine and raised it toward Marquis Peter once more.
“Grandfather, let us drink.”
Marquis Peter smiled and clinked glasses with him. The wine slid down his throat with a hint of bitterness, yet it also soothed the worry in his heart.
The lively atmosphere of the banquet hall continued. Music and laughter intertwined into a scene of dazzling prosperity.
William looked at the elderly man before him and suddenly felt that behind this seemingly simple request lay the caution and foresight forged through years of experience.
Perhaps within the past that his mother never spoke of were stories he did not yet know.
Seeing that the matter had been settled, Vivian smiled and waved toward the distance.
Several young noble ladies in luxurious dresses quickly walked over, their eyes fixed on William with undisguised curiosity and shy excitement.
Seeing this, Marquis Peter revealed a rare mischievous smile before turning away to greet some old friends.
William looked at the girls before him, each nearly a head taller than he was, and gave his mother a helpless look.
“Mother, what are you doing?”
Vivian covered her mouth as she laughed lightly.
“Oh my, little William. I am helping you look for a future fiancée.”
“You may only be six years old, but feelings should be cultivated early if you want them to grow strong.”
William’s face darkened.
“Mother, you just said I am six years old. Is this not far too early?”
“Too early? Not at all.”
Vivian patted his shoulder and gently pushed him toward the girls.
“It is always good to meet more people. You children chat among yourselves. I will go take a look over there.”
Without waiting for his response, she turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving William alone with several blushing noble ladies.
The atmosphere immediately became awkward.
The blonde girl in front stepped forward first and performed a graceful curtsy.
“Your Highness the Fourth Prince, I am Elsa, the youngest daughter of Duke Lane.”
Another girl with brown hair also bowed.
“Your Highness, I am Lillian, daughter of Duke Carden.”
William forced himself to return the greeting while sighing inwardly.
His mother truly enjoyed causing trouble.
He responded to them half-heartedly while his gaze drifted toward the center of the banquet hall.
There, his father was speaking with several high ministers, their expressions serious.
The girls seemed to notice his distracted state. Gradually relaxing, they began talking about amusing stories from the academy and the latest styles of fashionable gowns, trying to find common topics.
William nodded occasionally in response, but his thoughts had already wandered to the training grounds of the western hall.
He wondered whether Kyle and the others had been slacking during their night training.
When the girls were finally called away by their mothers, William let out a long breath of relief. He found a seat in a corner and gulped down a glass of fruit juice.
Looking at the lively scene of clinking glasses before him, he suddenly felt that watching his attendants train with sweat and determination was far more interesting than these polite social games.
On the Broken Bone Plains of the Northern Frontier, cold winds howled through the air, carrying the smell of blood.
Barbarian tribes surged toward Frostspine Pass like a tidal wave. Their roars and the clash of weapons echoed across the battlefield, while the snow beneath the city walls had long been stained dark red.
Duke Derek stood at the highest point of the battlements, wearing bloodstained armor. His long sword pointed toward the ground as his eyes gleamed with the sharpness of a hawk.
Behind him, his retainers were all wounded, yet they still held the defensive line with desperate determination, roaring as they pushed the barbarians climbing the walls back down.
“Hold the line! The bones of the Northern Frontier have never been soft!” Duke Derek’s furious shout rose above the sounds of battle, rallying the soldiers on the walls.
At that moment, a shrill cry of eagles echoed across the sky.
Everyone looked up.
More than a hundred giant eagles with wingspans of several meters swept through the clouds. Barbarians rode upon their backs, holding bone spears as they dove toward the walls.
“Eagle riders!”
A soldier cried out in alarm, and the formation instantly fell into disorder.
These enemies descending from the sky shattered the rhythm of the defenses. Bone spears rained down like a storm. Many soldiers were unable to dodge in time and fell from the walls with screams.
“Mages! Cover them!” Duke Derek shouted sharply.
The mages who had already climbed onto the walls under the protection of knights immediately began casting.
Magic light shimmered at their fingertips.
Blades of wind formed barriers that tore through the air. Fireballs streaked toward the giant eagles with blazing tails. Icicles shot toward the riders like arrows.
The thunderous roar of the magic cannons shook the walls. Thick beams of energy swept through the sky, instantly blasting several eagles and their riders into fragments.
Yet the barbarians continued to surge forward without end.
The dives of the giant eagles grew more ferocious with every wave.
A young mage’s chant was suddenly interrupted when a bone spear pierced his shoulder. He cried out and collapsed.
A nearby knight immediately cut the spear in half and dragged the mage behind cover, only to have his own throat pierced by another eagle rider moments later.
Duke Derek split a barbarian climbing onto the wall with a single stroke of his sword. Catching sight of a breach forming on the western side, he roared as he charged toward it.
“Seal that gap! Anyone who retreats dies!”
His blade carved arcs of blood through the air. Each strike took a life.
Yet the barbarians seemed immune to pain, climbing upward over the bodies of their fallen comrades.
The snow on the walls had turned slick with blood. The soldiers’ movements gradually slowed as the relentless assault pushed the defensive line to the brink of collapse.
Far across the Broken Bone Plains, even more barbarians were gathering, their numbers stretching endlessly across the horizon.
Duke Derek wiped the blood from his face and looked at the giant eagles circling above.
A trace of grim determination flashed in his eyes.
He knew they had to win this battle.
If Frostspine Pass fell, the flames of war in the Northern Frontier would spread into the central lands.
And when that happened, Kroll II would certainly execute him—and he himself would bring eternal shame upon the Derek family.