The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate

Caron let out a low whistle as he surveyed the expedition's advance squad.

"...They really picked out only the best of the best, huh?" he murmured, half in awe.

They were encamped on the outskirts of the final city, Glory.

To conquer that formidable stronghold, Caron's forces were making their final preparations. The elite members of the expedition had already gathered in small groups, sharpening blades, checking gear, and murmuring strategies in the dimming light.

Night had fallen, making it unfit for battle.

"Caron, if you die, this war is over," Halo said flatly, tearing into the piece of jerky Caron had tossed him. "I made the only logical choice as Commander."

Kerra, seated beside him, chuckled and poured Halo another drink before saying, "So even the Grand Duke knows the secret now, huh? It was so hard to keep up the act, you know."

Halo smirked faintly and gave a curt nod, then replied, "I've known for quite a while."

"I figured as much," Kerra said with mock offense. "That secret mission you gave me back then... It was because you were angry at me, wasn't it?"

Caron narrowed his eyes, sipping his drink. He asked, "Secret mission?"

"Oh, come on, Commander," Kerra replied, feigning exasperation. "That terrifying Grand Duke here threw me straight into the North Sea. He said someone had to check the conditions there—and just shipped me off."

Caron turned toward Halo and asked, "Is that true?"