Chapter 261: Honey Trap?

"Knock, knock—"

The study door was rapped.

Buried deep in his paperwork, organizing and cataloging the intel Jenni had gathered, Ronin did not look up, offering only a curt "Enter."

He assumed it would be Rydell or Elrond, but to his surprise, a young lady dressed in lavish attire, bearing the distinct air of a noble daughter, stepped into the room holding a fruit platter.

"And you are?" Ronin said, finally setting his quill down.

The maiden offered a graceful curtsy and parted her crimson lips, her voice dripping with sweetness. "Lord Viscount, I am the daughter of the Granite Ridge magistrate. You may call me Betty."

As she spoke, she placed the platter upon the desk and glided to Ronin’s side, bringing with her a fragrant draft of wind, and boldly extended her hands to massage his shoulders.

"The journey has been long and arduous for you, Lord Viscount. I have come specifically to serve you."

Ronin knitted his brows slightly, casually picking up a tome to conceal the parchment beneath it.

Though her touch was gentle and he could feel the soft press against his shoulders, and though he could faintly detect the warmth of her breath brushing the back of his ear, the entire display struck him as entirely absurd.

"Miss Betty."

Ronin pushed her hands away and looked her squarely in the eyes. "Did Corin send you here?"

A flash of panic visibly crossed Betty's eyes; she had never expected to be rejected. Had Lord Corin not said that the man before her was deeply fond of amorous affairs?

Why was it that despite her forwardness, and even her deliberate seduction, his expression bore not a single trace of pleasure?

She hastily stepped back, retreating to the side of the desk.

Sensing the coldness in Ronin's tone, Betty felt her confidence wither; though she was the magistrate’s daughter, she was still dreadfully insecure in the presence of true nobility.

"The Baron said you were too exhausted, and told me to massage you, and then attend to your washing and your afternoon nap."

"Attend to me how?"

The corner of Ronin's mouth curled slightly. "Does that include offering your body?"

In a flash, Betty’s face flushed crimson, and she lowered her head in bashful modesty. "Y-yes, if it pleases you, my lord, I am ready at any time."

Judging by her prior performance, she had seemed a seasoned veteran, yet at this moment, she behaved exactly like an innocent, untouched maiden.

"Corin truly is considerate."

Ronin let out a small laugh, then called out toward the corridor, "Tom, David, get in here!"

Tom and David, who had been waiting not far outside, hurried into the room, their eyes instinctively darting to the uneasy Betty standing to the side.

"My lord, what are your commands?"

"You two have not been following me for just a day or two. Why did an outsider manage to see me without a prior announcement? How exactly are you standing guard?"

Ronin's reprimand was partly a genuine critique of their negligence, but it was also a performance staged for Betty’s benefit.

Faced with their lord’s displeasure, Tom and David panicked instantly, dropping to one knee to beg for Ronin’s forgiveness while hastily stammering out an explanation.

It turned out that when they heard Betty say it was arranged by Corin, they assumed Ronin and the Baron had already agreed upon it, so they did not bar her entry, never imagining it was a misunderstanding.

"In the future, even if a common fly wishes to enter, you must report to me first. Only after I grant permission may it pass!"

"Yes, my lord!"

Tom and David trembled; this matter was indeed their error, and they should have announced her presence from the very beginning.

Ronin waved his hand. "Take her out."

Seeing this tense display, Betty dared not linger a moment longer and flusteredly made for the exit.

"Take the fruit platter with you," Ronin added.

"Y-yes..."

She hurriedly turned back, snatched up the platter, and vanished from the room.

Watching her retreating figure, Ronin frowned, analyzing Corin's underlying motives.

"Did he merely send a woman because he thinks I am lecherous, or is he trying to ruin my reputation?"

With war on the horizon, if a woman caused Ronin to entangle himself in a scandal akin to Selena's, his reputation would likely become as foul as Wiggins's.

With the harsh lesson of his predecessor freshly in mind, how could he possibly repeat the same mistake?

On the other side of the castle, Corin was utterly astonished upon hearing Betty's report.

"You may leave."

Corin waved Betty away, still finding it hard to believe. "Betty’s looks are first-rate. To think Ronin actually restrained himself and didn't touch her—could it be that he truly changed his nature?"

"It is possible. After all, he suffered a great downfall because of Count Orson's granddaughter, which cost him his inheritance."

Brissot offered a sigh of regret. "In that case, our plan to ruin his reputation has gone up in smoke."

"No matter."

Corin sat down. "Ruining a reputation doesn't rely on a single method. If this war ends in a disastrous defeat, his name will likely be muddied worse than his father's."

"If the noble coalition forces are completely annihilated, Ronin, as the commander, will be deemed utterly incompetent by every aristocrat, won't he?"

These allied troops, no matter how poor their quality, were the assets of the nobility. Losing them would bring no small measure of grief, and when that happened, the rumors surrounding Ronin would naturally catch fire.

By evening, Elrond returned to Granite Castle, bearing news regarding the ingredients for the Burst Potions.

Regrettably, the necessary components could not be fully gathered within Granite City; in particular, an ingredient called "Blood Hemp Grass" was something even the members of the Magic Energy Chamber of Commerce had never heard of.

For Ronin to acquire Burst Potions within a short timeframe was seemingly an impossibility.

Ronin did not attend the evening banquet hosted at Granite Castle, choosing instead to consult with Rydell, McCain, and the others on how to best manage the pitch of their camps.

This was their first true campaign; though many of these tasks could be overlooked, they chose to treat this as an opportunity to accumulate vital experience.

When Joffrey, Logner, and even Tom grew to lead units of their own in the future, they would know exactly how to handle such affairs.

Sometimes, advancement was not limited merely to martial strength; the capability to manage logistics was equally paramount.

The commander’s absence from Corin’s banquet seemed ordinary enough, yet different men interpreted it in vastly different ways.

The knights and nobles belonging to other factions naturally cared little, but men like Toru, Philip, and Thorstein felt compelled to view it with gravity.

They already understood Ronin's meticulous attitude toward his duties; before Red Hill Town was taken, they knew they too would have to decline such festivities, even if it meant bruising the host's pride.

The following morning, Ronin summoned all the leadership figures, including Toru and Corin, convening a council within the fortress of Granite Castle.

Though nearly sixty men attended the meeting, in truth, only a handful of high-tier combatants possessed any real decision-making power; the other officers were merely there to execute commands.

"To march and wage war, the first thing one must do is understand one's own condition."

Ronin produced the documents he had prepared the previous day, passing them to Toru and the others to read.

"I have left the established knight squads untouched, but the remaining disorganized forces must be structured into proper regiments. I have appointed commanders for them and allocated their respective duties."

Toru took the parchment, scanning the text written upon it, his internal shock deepening with every line he read.

Yesterday, Ronin had skipped the banquet solely to accomplish this?

He could not help but steal a glance at the youth beside him; could this speed and method of handling military affairs truly be the work of a man who had never set foot on a battlefield?

"Sir Toru, what do you think?"

Ronin inquired, "If there is anything you find amiss, feel free to suggest revisions."

“Your entire arrangement strikes me as exceedingly reasonable!”

He spoke as he handed the parchment to Marvin beside him—the two deputies, naturally, were to review it first.

“Lord Rulans sent Marvin and me to assist you, but it seems we may be unnecessary—you could command this campaign all on your own!”

After swiftly scanning the document, Marvin’s eyes widened in awe.

He was a rough man, unfit for such delicate work—but that did not prevent him from marveling at those who could perform it.

“Toru speaks truly, Roning. I have no objections. Do as you say!”

Still unsatisfied, he added: “I feel we of Mount Ushan are about to produce a brilliant military strategist!”

At these words, all who had not seen the letter’s contents grew curious—what on earth could be written on this sheet to elicit such admiration from both commanders?

Corien frowned, skeptical. Could it truly be so extraordinary?

Had the Marquis arranged this in advance to pave the way for Roning?

Yet he recalled Betty’s report from yesterday—Roning had indeed been writing something on his desk, though she had not seen what.

“Lord Marvin, might I also see it?”

Marvin paused—he had forgotten to circulate it—and promptly passed the parchment to Corien.

Corien snatched it eagerly and began to read.

What he saw stunned him.

The parchment bore Roning’s meticulous notation: unit designations, commanders, core personnel, and assigned duties for each group.

These duties were not vague—they were precise.

One unit was tasked with reconnaissance; another with defense; yet another with intelligence analysis; still another with camp security.

Beyond combat units, Roning had even organized logistics—craftsmen, cooks, grooms, even sanitation workers—all assigned to teams with designated leaders.

If this scattered coalition of nobles truly followed Roning’s structure and organization, their effectiveness would far surpass their current disarray.

“This...”

Corien was shaken, yet still sought a flaw.

“Commander, I believe one aspect is unsuitable.”

“Oh?”

Roning met the criticism without a trace of anger, his expression calm and amiable.

“Lord Corien, please voice your concerns—we can discuss them together.” (End of Chapter)