Valen followed Count Vidar from the command tent toward the line of horses waiting outside. The cool winds brushed against the fields, carrying the mixed scent of damp soil and burning cookfires from the army encampment behind them. As Valen reached for his reins, a familiar voice called out.
"Greetings, fell—wait… Sergeant?"
Valen looked up, startled.
A young soldier hurriedly approached, spear in hand. Recognition flashed.
"Jun?" Valen blinked.
The spearman snapped to attention, face bright with relief.
"Sergeant! You've returned! Should I call the others?"
Count Vidar paused mid-mount, looking back at them.
"Who is this, Valen?" he asked.
Valen straightened. "Ah—he is one of my regiment members, Uncle."
Vidar raised a brow.
"Well then, why did you not bring your men along to join us?"
"W-wait," Valen murmured, unsure. "That is permitted?"
"Of course," Count Vidar replied, tone casual. "You are their commander. And now, you are a squire with knightly standing. If you request it, the Duke will likely grant his favor."
Valen nodded slowly. "I… see."
He turned to Jun.
"Jun—can you call the soldiers?"
"Yes, sir!"
Jun saluted before sprinting toward the camp. Within minutes, Valen's regiment appeared, led by Nugi. They gathered before him, dusty from drills, yet eager.
"Greetings, sir," Nugi said with a weary smile. "It's good to see you unharmed."
"Well, thankfully, I'm all right."
Valen cleared his throat, then spoke loudly so all could hear.
"I have been tasked by the Duke to follow Count Vidar von Rockunstide. So—I want to ask you all: will you follow me, or stay here under the Duke's command?"
Silence followed. The soldiers exchanged looks, murmuring anxiously.
"May we have time to discuss this, sir?" someone asked.
"Of course."
They huddled immediately, erupting into a fierce debate. Voices rose; some argued passionately, others tried to calm. After several tense minutes, they finally broke apart. Nugi stepped forward.
"We choose to follow you, sir."
"That's right!" others chimed.
"We'll follow our first Sergeant!"
Nugi coughed.
"Well—he isn't a Sergeant anymore."
He grinned teasingly. "Right, Squire?"
Valen blinked. "How do you already know that? I'm certain you weren't with us during the briefing."
"Captain Alphonse told me while I was eating," Nugi replied.
Valen sighed. "Hah… seems I can't hide anything from you."
Nugi smirked.
"Yes, sir. Even your future plan to marry a noble daughter—I know."
The soldiers froze. Then—
"What! You're getting married, sir?"
"Who is she?"
"Will we be invited to the wedding?"
Valen could only smile awkwardly as questions bombarded him.
After the noise settled, he motioned to Nugi.
"Come with me—we're going to the Duke to confirm your transfer."
"Yes, sir."
They walked toward the Duke's encampment. The camp bustled with activity: soldiers polishing gear, cooks preparing evening meals, friends sharing quiet chatter beside warm fires. They entered the Duke's command tent.
Inside, Duke Alphonse sat behind his desk, reviewing documents by candlelight.
"Greetings, my lord," Valen said with a respectful bow.
The Duke looked up. "Ah—Valen. What brings you here?"
"Forgive me for disturbing you, my lord. I would like your permission to take my regiment with me to Count Vidar's army."
"Did they all agree?"
"Not all, but the majority did."
"Very well," the Duke nodded. "You may take them."
Valen bowed deeper. "Thank you, my lord."
"You're welcome."
They stepped outside into the cooling dusk—and immediately ran into Velichia.
"Valen! Nugi! What are you two doing here?" she asked brightly.
"Oh, Velichia—We just asked the Duke if my regiment may accompany me under Count Vidar."
"Did the Count accept it?"
"Well… yes."
"Then that means I can come with you again!"
"What?" Valen blinked. "But… weren't you going with the Duke?"
"What do you mean?" she puffed her cheeks. "I don't have a duty to follow him all the time. I was assigned to your unit since the start."
"That is true, Sarge," Nugi added helpfully.
"We should bring Miss Velichia. She's part of your regiment—your responsibility."
Valen surrendered.
"Fine… I suppose I have no choice. Let's go."
"Yay!" Velichia cheered, hugging Valen without hesitation.
Together, they walked toward Count Vidar's temporary position. The air was calm; children could still be heard in the nearby town, called home by their parents as night approached.
Soon they reached Valen's regiment—already seated in a circle, listening to Count Vidar recount a tale.
"Umm… what's going on?" Valen asked.
The Count smiled warmly.
"Ah, Valen. You've returned. I was simply telling them the tale of your heroism—saving me, capturing the Hormonion castle."
"Oh, come on…" Valen muttered. "There was nothing special about that."
Jun stood.
"It was special, Sergeant! You infiltrated the castle alone, defeated a full-plated guard, and saved the Countess with a blade held to her throat!"
"Haaah… fine, fine. Thank you. Anyway—the Duke has given permission. So all of you, Nugi, and Velichia will follow me under the Count."
"Umm… with Miss Velichia too?" one soldier asked meekly.
Velichia stepped out from behind Valen.
"Why? You dislike my company?"
"N-no, Miss!"
"If so, then everything is settled."
She hugged Valen again.
Count Vidar lifted a brow.
"I had no idea Evelyn would have such a beautiful rival."
"I'm sorry, my lord," Velichia asked, confused. "What do you mean?"
The Count chuckled.
"I was considering letting my daughter and Valen marry. But it seems you have fallen for him—and will be her rival."
"What do you mean—!? There's no way Miss Velichia likes me," Valen sputtered.
Vidar waved it off.
"Well, let us put that aside. Return to the encampment soon, Valen. We move at dawn."
"Yes, Uncle."
The Count mounted, riding swiftly toward his own camp.
Valen turned—
—and suddenly felt murderous intent crawling down his spine.
"Umm… everyone, return to pack your gear," he said quickly. "You can wait for me here, sir," he told the Count's escort.
His regiment hurried away, led by Nugi.
Valen turned—and found Velichia staring at him coldly.
"Valen~," she said softly, threateningly. "I think you have something to explain."
"Umm… before that—let's get your ge—"
"Explain. Now."
"O-okay, okay! I'll explain!"
And so, Valen was thoroughly scolded.
Poor him.
As twilight deepened, his regiment finished packing.
"All right, everyone!" Valen called. "We have a ten-kilometer march to the Duke's encampment before nightfall. Move!"
They marched beneath a darkening sky.
Soon, they arrived and set camp near the Duke's main force, raising his banner high.
They ate together; laughter and chatter filled the night as they urged Valen to recount his rescue of the Count once again—until, one by one, they succumbed to sleep.
At dawn, a clang rang out—an iron pan struck by a club.
The echo stirred the camp awake.
Provisions were packed, gear strapped tight, lines formed.
Under Count Vidar's orders, the army marched.
Toward Castle Aurenveil.
And thus—Valen walked with them…
unaware that one of the greatest battles of Aurenveil was about to begin.