Chapter 105: Conspiracy and Hatred

Turning her head, Elsa smiled at Phield again. “Your bravery on the battlefield was truly eye-catching. My uncle considered stepping in to help several times, but you resolved everything yourself.”

“It was the warriors who paid with their lives,” Phield replied without hesitation.

“That is still your achievement. I’ve brought ten sets of broad-leaf scale armor. I hope they’ll be of some help to you.”

Phield accepted them awkwardly. “Th-this really puts me in a difficult position. Thank you.”

There was no reason to refuse—these were all gold coins, after all.

“Hehe, I specifically secured them for you. Plate armor is quite scarce right now.” Elsa’s tone today was much gentler, warm and approachable. Any ordinary man treated this way by a beauty would likely have already fallen. Her willow brows curved as she said intimately, “Quick, tell me about the battlefield.”

“It would be my honor.”

The two walked side by side, chatting casually.

The sight nearly drove Felix mad with rage.

Chatting with the woman who was practically promised to me? Very well—you’re courting death.

Without a word, Felix slunk to Phield’s right side and suddenly rammed his shoulder hard into him.

Phield staggered and involuntarily lurched toward Elsa, then “accidentally” buried his head deep into her ample bosom. Very deep. Along the way, he even seemed to brush against something quite remarkable—distinctly firm and prominent.

Elsa let out a cry. Though raised with the strictest lady’s education since childhood, she could not suppress her fury. A surge of divine power erupted from her at once.

“Fuck!” Felix’s eyes turned bloodshot. He nearly went insane.

“You can’t blame me for that.” Phield rubbed his face, feeling absurdly satisfied, yet putting on an innocent expression as he complained, “Don’t shove me, Felix. That’s hardly gentlemanly.”

Her chest was truly impressive. Fragrant. Soft.

“Hmph.”

Elsa shot Felix a fierce glare and turned away.

“N-no, that’s not what happened! Listen to my explanation!” Felix hurried after her.

Watching them leave, Phield shook his head and said to his soldiers, “Distribute the scale armor to the squad leaders. Then we move out.”

Itavon Province had never been wealthy, but it had once been a land of clear waters and lush mountains. Now it was devastated, scarred by smoke and ruin.

After marching with the army for half a day, the various minor nobles were assigned missions to suppress rebel forces. Phield received one as well.

Attack Mountain Spring Village—a once-peaceful hamlet known for its clear spring water, where villagers lived by cultivating fruit trees. It had now become a rebel outpost. Using the village as a base, they had built a wooden fort and provided beacon signals for the rebels.

“Take Mountain Spring Village and wipe out the rebels. I’ll record merit for you. There will also be imperial funding.”

Regin patted Phield on the shoulder encouragingly.

“I’ll do my best.”

For Phield, taking a stockade was simple enough. After all, he had two Divine Chosen hidden within his ranks.

Of course, he had no intention of attacking too quickly or too fiercely. That wouldn’t fit his plan of taking it easy.

“Baron Phield, in this battle I will record your military achievements and serve as supervising officer. At critical moments, I will provide military assistance.”

A voice full of resentment sounded behind him. Phield turned around—it was Felix, the one he had met that morning.

Felix sat astride a warhorse, dressed in flamboyant, multicolored robes. His armor was a brilliant gilded suit. He was accompanied by thirty knight retainers; only two of them had fluctuations of magical power, both merely first-tier.

Even as the illegitimate son of a powerful figure, it was difficult for him to field many knights—Divine Chosen were out of the question.

Phield clicked his tongue irritably. This man was like a fly—relentless and annoying. Clearly, his pride was enormous, unable to tolerate the slightest grievance, even one imagined by himself.

“Don’t worry. Although you were quite rude to Miss Elsa, for the sake of imperial comradeship, I will never allow you to die at the hands of the rebels. I will generously provide you with assistance.”

Felix felt immensely satisfied. Though illegitimate, he was only a step away from obtaining a title. His father wielded great power; this campaign was merely a gilded journey to make his recognition legitimate.

As military advisor of the Third Army, he could do as he pleased. In his view, the number of rebels in Mountain Spring Village was absolutely beyond what Phield could handle.

He thought to himself: I won’t dispatch the cavalry until the very last moment. Of course, whether he returns crippled or whole will depend on my mood.

“Oh? Then I look forward to cooperating with you.”

The greatest enmities in life are the killing of one’s father and the stealing of one’s wife. Though he had no interest in Elsa whatsoever, he had nevertheless become mortal enemies with Felix.

Killing intent surged within Phield. He had no desire to live with a blade hanging over his head.

Still, he pretended indifference, shrugging casually. He glanced at Regin, who merely shook his head helplessly, signaling he could do nothing.

“Rest assured. A noble’s life will certainly be protected,” Regin promised.

“Very well.” Phield had completely lost all expectations for these self-serving schemers who delighted in infighting—though, in truth, he had never had any.

The First Army of Nightfall Domain had now expanded to 370 men, including 87 incorporated soldiers without prior allegiance. Their training was abysmal, and they held no loyalty to him whatsoever. Phield treated them as free labor and expendable cannon fodder.

Under Felix’s relentless urging, Phield led his troops off the main road and advanced along a narrow path toward Mountain Spring Village.

After roughly two hours of rapid marching, they reached an area where dense forest intertwined with mountain trails. The ground was littered with crude chevaux-de-frise and antler-like barricades. Corpses lay scattered along the way—mostly villagers stabbed in the back. The sight of children lying in the bushes cast the soldiers of Nightfall Domain into heavy silence.

“Watch for traps. Auxiliary troops, scout ahead.”

Twenty of the incorporated soldiers advanced trembling along the mountain path.

Meanwhile, Phield carefully observed the terrain on both sides, comparing it with his mini-map.

“Hey! You’re moving too slowly! You stinking worms, get moving!”

A supervising knight galloped over on horseback, cracking his whip with a loud snap, drawing sidelong glances from Phield’s soldiers.

“This is necessary reconnaissance,” Phield replied coldly, protective of his own. “If you’re in such a hurry, you’re welcome to charge ahead yourselves.”

“Very well—disobeying military orders and delaying the battle.” Felix slyly jotted something down. “I will report everything truthfully.”

“Damn it! How dare they show disrespect to my lord!” Sam gripped his weapon, itching to smash their heads in.

“Don’t get agitated. Let the bullet fly a while.”

Phield sneered lightly and waved dismissively.

“That phrase sounds familiar… I think I’ve heard my lord say it before.” Sam scratched his head in confusion beneath his helmet.

“My lord, no danger ahead!” The scouting soldier returned to report, his face filled with relief—so much so that three or four deep wrinkles had formed across it.

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