Magus Reborn

98. A dire situation

As they made their way through the estate, Kai’s eyes scanned the grounds.

What was once a peaceful, orderly estate was now teeming with life. People milled about, setting up makeshift tents and gathering around small fires. Most of them looked haggard with clear worry in their eyes.

Francis walked beside him, his expression grim but determined.

"These are the refugees from the nearby villages," Francis began, gesturing to the crowds of people. "They started coming in about a week after Your Lordship left for the capital. We tried to house them within the city, but there just weren’t enough homes."

Kai nodded, his brow furrowing. "So they built camps around the estate."

"Yes," Francis confirmed, "but it’s been difficult with so many people. We don’t know what to do with them. Some are willing to fight, and we’ve already started training them. But many refuse to take up arms."

Kai’s steps slowed. "Why is that? Didn’t you explain that they could take positions in the rear or serve as archers? We also need people for scouting groups."

He looked around and made eye contact with a few men who were gathering around one of the makeshift tents. As they saw how Kai was observing, they gave bows in respect. He returned their respect with a short nod.

He turned his attention back to the administrator.

Francis sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It’s because of the rumours, my lord. There’s talk that you fled to the capital and abandoned the city fearing the beast wave. Your reputation was improving, but fearmongers have taken advantage of the situation, spreading lies."

Kai’s jaw tightened. "And they don’t believe that I went to the capital to secure reinforcements?"

"We’ve tried to tell them," Francis said, shaking his head. "But fear and uncertainty have taken root. They need to see you, to hear from you directly. The commoners don’t trust nobles after all, especially when there are enough cases of them abandoning their subjects."

Kai looked around at the refugees, their faces weary and fearful. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his responsibility. "Then I’ll address them. We need their support, and I need to set the record straight."

They continued walking, entering the hallways. Kai’s mind raced with plans to rally the people and restore their faith in him. He knew that earning their trust was crucial, not just for the upcoming battles but for the future of the city itself.

But his frown deepened as he processed Francis’s words. He didn’t like the rumours, but he knew they were an inevitable part of war times. Morale was a powerful force in war, and his absence had allowed doubt to fester. It was something he would need to address swiftly.

"It’s not surprising," Kai said, his voice calm despite the frustration he felt. "Morale is everything in times like these, and I haven’t been around. This was bound to happen."

He paused, considering another facet. It was possible Lucian might’ve had a hand in this, but he doubted it. From everything he had seen, his brother underestimated him heavily and wouldn’t need to do this. If he had, then just showing his face around won’t curb the rumours. Instead, different ones would arise.

"Now that I’m back, we need to start real preparations. The beast wave looms over us, and we can’t afford any more delays."

Francis’s face grew more grim. "We’ve got two months at best, and maybe only a few weeks at worst."

Kai was about to respond when he caught sight of Claire approaching— Amyra at her side. The latter’s face immediately lit up as she spotted him, and she broke into a wide smile.

Below him, the castle grounds were teeming with activity— rows of guards in polished armour stood at attention, their disciplined ranks stretching out into the distance. Amidst them, a dozen or so Mages, their robes marked with the insignia of the second and third circle, were gathered in silent concentration, readying their spells.

They were the Mages in his father’s service and once he had taken over his position, they were his to command and until now, they had done well for him to put their trust in them.

Footsteps echoed behind him, bringing his attention to Knight Garrik Daven who saluted Lucian with a crisp motion. He turned around from the rows of men and Mages to stare at Garrik.

He was an old man with a face weathered with countless experiences; a scar cutting across his left cheek and a faint burn mark near his jawline that’d scare whoever came across him for the first time. He had gotten the injuries fighting a Grade 3 beast called white salamander. The man had won against the beast somehow in the end and had kept the marks as a lesson and respect for his opponent.

Lucian knew he wasn’t the best fighter in his ranks, especially with his age, but he was loyal and had a knack for surviving tough battles.

"We have all the contingents ready, my lord. The Mages are raring to go, and we have a good number of third-circle casters. Prince Eldric had sent a letter saying he would send more if needed. The beasts won’t even reach the castle gates."

Lucian’s gaze swept over the assembled forces, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Good," he said, his voice steady and calm. Then, turning to Garrik, he added, "Double the men."

Garrik blinked, taken aback. "My lord, most of our forces are already here. We’ve brought every available soldier. Even if we ask the prince for more, doubling them would take a lot."

Lucian’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with calculated intent. "I need more," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The beasts won’t be easy opponents. Even if our victory is ensured, we must enlist common folk as well. Let them believe it’s a desperate fight— so when we win, they’ll think they played a part in it. If we just go and defeat the beast without the commoners seeing their horror, they wouldn’t respect me as much."

Garrik hesitated, clearly uncertain about involving civilians. Training men wasn’t easy and untrained ones in a battle could lead to more than one type of problem. But he had served Lucian for a long time and knew that going against him was a good way for him to lose his life.

Hence, his expression turned to determination despite the worries in his heart. "As you command, my lord," he said, bowing and waiting for more instructions.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. "When do we begin the march?"

Garrik straightened, his tone clipped and professional. "Our scouts report that they’re taking their time, my lord. It seems Lord Arzan has just arrived in the city. The reports of him running away to Hermil are false and it seems like he really wants to take down the beast."

Lucian threw his head back and laughed a dark, mirthless sound. It was eerie to the ears but Lucian was always like that.

"Let him try," he said, a cruel smile stretching across his face. "When he’s destroyed, when he lies dead, my efforts to vanquish the beasts will shine all the brighter. I’ll give everyone in this kingdom a good show— over the grave of my little brother."

Garrik, though momentarily chilled by the cold malice in Lucian’s words, bowed deeply. He knew his lord had no love for his brothers or anyone for that matter, but in his opinion, a lord only needed ambition and Lucian had more than enough of that.

Lucian gazed out over his forces once again after dismissing Garrik.

The stage was set, the players in place, and soon, the spectacle would begin. He would emerge victorious, his reputation as the kingdom’s saviour etched in blood and glory.

Arzan’s defiance would be nothing more than a footnote in history— a tragic tale that only served to elevate Lucian’s triumph.

Just like I always planned it to be, Lucian smiled to himself.