CH238 Kellerman Arrives

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Rewinding the clock—back to the moment Alex and his three hundred Fangs launched their assault on the first Kellerman supply camp.

At the same time, an army of more than ten thousand had made camp within the northern periphery of the Dankrot Forest.

The forest had yet to recover from the devastation left by the goblins. Months had passed since their systematic extermination, yet the ecosystem still reeled in flux. Beast populations remained scattered, territories were left unclaimed, and many of the 'cautious' packs lingered on the edges, waiting to see if the threat was truly gone.

That absence created a dangerous as well as advantageous gap.

And through it, the massive Kellerman host marched unhindered, slipping through the periphery of the forest without stirring its wrath.

Normally, a force of such size would have been violently rejected by the territorial denizens of the forest. But this time, the traumatized beasts of the periphery fled at the mere sight of the army—be it human or goblin, none dared stand in their path.

Taking advantage of the lush canopy and natural cover, the Kellerman army pitched their camp boldly, their sights fixed on the fortress mere kilometres ahead.

At the heart of the encampment, within a large and relatively lavish command tent, two men sat across from one another. Between them lay a war table, upon which a map of the area around the Northern Dankrot Fort and the sprawling plains beyond it was spread open.

"General Vance, your plan has worked beautifully. Earl Drake Fury won't even know what hit him," Josiah Kellerman said with a grin.

The young lord of the Kellerman fief—and current City Lord of the occupied City of Werth—looked down at the map, his eyes gleaming with unrestrained ambition. He could already taste the glory of raising the Kellerman banner above Northern Dankrot Fort.

"All I did was prepare the plan. It is the Young Lord's decisiveness that brought us this far," General Vance replied smoothly. "Without your sacrifices—including relinquishing the city of Werth—we would never have reached this point."

His tone dripped with flattery, though his eyes told another story entirely. Whether Josiah Kellerman was blind to it or simply chose to ignore it remained unclear.

"Reporting!" A voice called from outside the tent.

"Enter," Josiah Kellerman ordered.

A lieutenant stepped inside, saluting smartly. "Sirs! The fabrication of the siege weapon components is complete. All that remains is final assembly."

Josiah Kellerman's grin widened. He turned to General Vance, who gave him a firm nod.

"Then let us move. It is time we bring down the terror of the north," Josiah Kellerman declared.

"Go! Rally the men! Prepare to march!" General Vance barked.

The lieutenant saluted once more before rushing out to deliver the command.

Within hours, the Kellerman war machine stirred to life, a sea of soldiers readied to march.

Their goal? To tear down the gates of Earl Fury's Northern Dankrot Fort… and claim it as their own.

As dawn broke and the first rays of sunlight stretched across the horizon, alarms rang out through Northern Dankrot Fort. The watchtowers had finally caught sight of the hostile army advancing.

"Urgent news!" A Fury soldier burst into the Fort Commander's office.

"Reporting, Sirs!" He saluted, finding both the Fort Commander and Jared already inside. His breath came hurried and uneven. "They are here… the Kellerman Army has arrived!"

A deep frown creased the Fort Commander's face, while a sharp gleam flashed in Jared's eyes.

"Let's go," Jared said, rising smoothly. His voice carried no weight of panic, just his usual impassiveness. "From this point forward, I will assume command."

He strode out nonchalantly, following the soldier toward the walls. The Fort Commander exhaled in relief before trailing behind him.

Wherever Jared passed, soldiers stilled and straightened. The sight of the Dark Knight himself—Jared Rivia, one of Earl Drake Fury's infamous Hounds—brought calm where chaos had begun to stir.

To the Fury troops, his presence was as if Earl Drake himself had come. With Dark Bulwark here, how could their morale falter? Even if the sky fell, the banner of Fury would still stand strong.

The unease that had rippled through the fortress was smothered by Jared's composure. To look upon his face, one would think he was merely strolling through his garden. Even with an army at the gates, his eyes held the nonchalance of a man for whom battle—and war—were nothing more than routine.

And in truth, for Jared, they were.

After two decades of campaigns, of blood and steel, across the continent of Arun and the outer planes beyond, this siege was just another line in a long history of battles.

Arriving atop the walls, Jared gazed down at the sea of Kellerman soldiers stretching into the horizon.

"Their numbers seem… higher than we expected," he remarked.

An officer leaned in and whispered something to the Fort Commander. The Commander's face tightened as he turned to Jared. "Scouts report at least fifteen thousand, General."

"And ours?" Jared asked.

"Only six thousand, General," the Commander answered wryly.

Jared gave a single nod.

The Fury forces were already spread thin across multiple fronts. With Exercitus Alexii leading another five thousand to reclaim Wildkin-occupied lands in the Kellerman's own backyard, the fort was fortunate to even hold its current strength.

Were it not for Alex's warning about the Kellermans' treachery, their numbers might have even been lower.

"I take it reinforcements are out of the question?" Jared asked, though his tone suggested he already knew.

"Yes, General. Lord Marshal Lawson requests we hold them for at least a fortnight… if not defeat them outright."

The Dark Knight's expression remained unreadable.

The Fort Commander sighed inwardly. As always, nothing could be gleaned from that mask-like face.

Then, movement drew their attention. From the Kellerman lines, a mounted unit broke away, galloping toward the fort.

At its head rode Josiah Kellerman himself, alongside General Vance.

The Kellerman party halted several dozen meters from the fortress wall.

"I am—!" Josiah Kellerman began, but his voice froze as an indescribable wave of killing intent crashed down on him.

In that instant, the world seemed to twist.

To Josiah Kellerman's eyes, the Dark Knight standing atop the walls was no longer a man, but a grim reaper. He saw a scythe hovered coldly against his throat. One wrong syllable, and his head would roll.

His bowels threatening to betray him—until a cooling pressure suddenly washed over him, cutting through the suffocating storm. General Vance's aura pushed back against Jared's killing intent.

"What is the meaning of this, Dark Bulwark?" General Vance snapped, glaring up.

"I should be asking you," Jared's cold voice rolled down the walls. "You bring an army to my liege's gates without cause, and when you walk forward to speak, you send a child who still reeks of his mother's milk? A brat unworthy of my time?"

"He is our Young Lord," General Vance retorted, eyes flashing. "He alone has the right to speak."

"Haha!"

A sudden laugh broke the tense air. Gasps rippled across both sides—Jared Rivia... was laughing?

"The Kellerman family bites the hand that shielded it, and yet Earl Kellerman dares not appear? Instead he sends one of his worthless sons?" Jared's voice boomed, carrying for every soldier to hear. "I see…"

His abyssal black pupils locked onto Josiah Kellerman, who was already burning with humiliation.

"Very well, boy. Speak. Let me hear what nonsense that cesspool of a mouth wishes to spout."

Josiah Kellerman trembled with rage, his hand twitching toward his sword hilt. But General Vance gave him a subtle signal, and he restrained himself.

Instead, Josiah Kellerman turned from Jared and raised his voice toward the Fury officers along the walls.

"For decades, the Fury family has disrespected House Kellerman!" His words rang with feigned righteousness. "Not only have our people been slaughtered without justice, but instead of serving the Empire and reclaiming its lost lands, Fury now slaughters nobles who have sworn fealty to us!

"How long can we stand idle? What sort of liege would we be if we abandoned our vassals?

"Hear me now—if the Fury family surrenders and hands over the one responsible for this most recent outrage—Alex Fury—we will let this insult rest… for now. This is your first and final chance!"

Murmurs spread along the wall. Several Fury officers exchanged incredulous looks, wondering whether Josiah Kellerman's skull/face or the fortress stones were thicker.

Jared's gaze never wavered. His cold eyes bore into Josiah Kellerman until the young lord felt as though his very soul was laid bare. Then, with all the weight of a crushing mountain, Jared spoke a single word.

"Scram."

There was no killing intent nor Saintly power. Just that one syllable was all Jared could bother to say to him.

Yet Josiah Kellerman felt the world collapse upon him, his chest tightening as though he could scarcely breathe.

'As expected of the infamous Dark Bulwark Hound…' General Vance thought grimly, studying the man above. 'Worthy of Earl Drake's right hand… a man who has walked through more battlefields than most will see in several lifetimes.'

Then, slowly, he removed his helm. "Jared Rivia," he called out. "Do you remember me?"

Jared turned his eyes on him, expression flat.

"No. Should I?"

Vance's jaw clenched behind his calm facade. "No… not yet." He replaced his helm with deliberate motion. "But after you fall by my hand, no one will ever forget."

Jared gave him nothing. Neither a response nor even recognition.

Only a flick of his hand.

The archers atop the walls drew their bows in unison.

The intent was clear.

This parley was over.

***

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