Chapter 403: Arrival in Fallenwinter

In Fallenwinter, the city’s countess wore an anxious expression on her face.

At the top of the tallest tower in the city lord’s mansion, she gazed toward the horizon, her eyes tirelessly scanning the tree line, searching for any sign of movement.

Her delicate fingers twined around a strand of golden hair, twisting it absentmindedly as the anxiety of waiting slowly tormented her from within.

The biting wind of Fallenwinter’s early morning whipped against her dress, pressing the thin fabric against her slender frame, but she barely felt it.

All her attention remained fixed on that distant point where the forest met the sky.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, drawing in a deep breath before forcing herself to stand.

No sooner had she turned her back on the horizon than something made her freeze in place.

A pulse of aura, powerful enough to cut through the entire forest and reach her even at that distance.

It undoubtedly came from a powerful warrior, and that presence did not belong to her husband.

She slowly straightened, her body trembling, her fists clenched so tightly that her fingernails bit into the soft flesh of her palms.

Small crimson drops welled between her delicate fingers, trickling silently down her wrists.

"My Lady!"

A loud knock echoed against the bedroom door, shattering the heavy silence.

She swallowed hard, forcing all the anguish back down into the depths of her chest.

Walking to the door, she opened it at once, her gaze falling on one of Fallenwinter’s most loyal knights—the one who had been left behind as leader of the small militia responsible for protecting the city.

The moment she stepped into the hallway, the knight bowed his head in a hasty salute.

"Scouts have spotted an approaching army—a thousand men. Their banners are unknown."

"They’re from Goldenveil," she replied. "Prepare the militia. We’ll meet them at the gates."

Her voice was strained, heavy with pain, but she pushed it all aside, forcing strength into her words.

Her steps faltered as she turned her head toward the interior of the room once more.

Not far from her bed stood a crib, where a baby slept peacefully, oblivious to everything.

It was the couple’s first child, not yet a year old.

"Yes, my lady." The knight nodded firmly, bowing before hurrying off down the hallway.

Lady Fallenwinter walked alone, leaving her mansion behind.

Few men remained on the streets, and those who lingered were either too young, too old, sick, or cowards who had hidden from the call to arms.

She felt the eyes of her people upon her as she made her way through the muddy streets, each footstep heavy with the weight of what was to come.

Her figure seemed fragile, but she was a powerful third-stage mage, and her strength was unquestionable.

Reaching the gates of her city, she channeled mana into her legs and leaped, her body cutting through the air for more than four meters before landing lightly atop the stone wall.

The militia was already rushing toward the fortifications, hastily climbing the stone stairs.

Lady Fallenwinter paid them no mind, her eyes fixed on the edge of the forest.

And then, finally, something appeared before her.

A horse as white as snow, and riding upon its back sat a young man in armor that seemed forged from obsidian, the black metal etched with small golden runes that glowed softly in the sunlight.

Behind him, a black cloak billowed in the wind, his handsome face exposed, long golden strands of hair dancing around his features.

Under his right arm he carried a helmet, while his left hand rested casually on the hilt of the sword at his waist.

Lady Fallenwinter remained silent, watching Ethan coldly as he approached, a thousand soldiers marching behind him.

Surrounded by those thousand soldiers were thousands more men, clearly prisoners.

Her gaze, however, did not linger on Ethan for long, for she soon noticed something else.

Two soldiers carried a stretcher between them, and upon it, carefully secured so as not to fall, lay a man.

It was Zael Fallenwinter. Her husband.

Clearly gravely wounded.

"Open the gates..." she ordered at once, turning to a knight on her left.

For a moment, a strange expression crossed the soldier’s face.

"But my lady, we can’t—"

"They have my husband—open the gates!" she ordered, her voice rising sharply, cutting the knight off mid-sentence.

The man finally bowed his head, turning and shouting orders to his soldiers along the ramparts.

Arriving at the gates, Ethan naturally noticed them opening.

His face lit up with satisfaction.

Keeping Zael had been a great idea.

Not only because he was a talented, honorable, and competent leader, but also because it would facilitate the conquest of Fallenwinter without further bloodshed.

Slowly, the heavy wooden gates swung open with a deep creak, and the beautiful woman who had been standing atop the wall descended to greet him.

Her shoulders trembled slightly, but she remained strong, each step carrying the dignity of a countess.

Her eyes fell upon the prisoners, the men of Fallenwinter.

They were all there, unharmed.

"It doesn’t look like there was a battle," she said softly.

"No." Ethan shook his head. "We settled everything with a duel between me and Zael Fallenwinter. Your husband is fine; he should wake up in a few days."

He continued, his voice calm and controlled.

"Since I won the duel, he must kneel before me. Fallenwinter will now be a vassal of Goldenveil and will obey my direct orders."

Ethan dismounted from his horse in one fluid motion, handing the reins to an officer of the Goldenveil army.

His gaze fell on one of the knights standing beside Lady Fallenwinter.

"These prisoners are yours. Return them to their families. Doran and my men will accompany you."

The knight did not hesitate, nodding in confirmation.

There was bitterness stamped on his face, but he obeyed nonetheless.

Lady Fallenwinter bit her lower lip, lowering her head to hide the expression that threatened to take over her face.

In the end, she could only motion for Ethan to follow her toward the mansion, where they would discuss the terms of Fallenwinter’s surrender.