Chapter 494: Surrendering in Allegiance

Mélis ended her meditation, her depleted magic and mental strength having recovered somewhat. She opened her eyes and surveyed the crude hall of the camp.

It was exceedingly rudimentary—like the keep of a fallen baron.

In terms of defensive strength, Wind’s Hollow could not compare to Watchtower Keep.

Yet if war broke out, the battlefield would not be here, but at Watchtower Keep.

Debating the adequacy of Wind’s Hollow’s fortifications was utterly pointless.

“Rudal has left the camp as its commander—surely something urgent must have arisen.”

She quickly deduced that the Kingdom of Auduin was likely preparing for military action.

Given the turmoil in the Kingdom of Trisia, were she in command, she would not let such an opportunity slip by.

As she pondered, a sudden pang gripped her heart—an inexplicable heaviness weighed upon her chest.

Before she could examine it further, a tall, striking man entered from outside, his silver hair catching the light like moonlit frost.

Mélis rose swiftly, bowing deeply and offering sincere greeting: “Mélis Carmine of Watchtower Keep—it is my honor to meet you, Your Grace, Marquis of Moonlight Valley.”

“Lady Mélis, welcome!”

Lord Ronin stepped forward and shook her hand. “I’ve long heard tales of the young mage of the Carmine family at Watchtower Keep. To meet you today confirms all I’ve been told!”

“Compared to you, I am hardly worthy of mention,” Mélis replied humbly.

After exchanging pleasantries, they sat.

Ronin spoke first. “Last time I spoke with your brother Placido, we did not reach agreement—but we left room for cooperation. Tell me, what message do you bring this time?”

Mélis took a deep breath. She had rehearsed this conversation countless times in her mind; she knew precisely what to say.

“Two days ago, Count Ural, commander of Misthaven, issued orders: we are to defend Watchtower Keep at all costs, delaying until royal reinforcements arrive on the front.”

Ronin raised an eyebrow. “Has Misthaven sent you new reinforcements, then?”

Mélis shook her head. “No fresh troops have arrived.”

Ronin chuckled. “Then how do you intend to hold the fortress?”

Mélis sighed. Now came the crux—the real matter, the choice that would irrevocably alter her family’s fate.

Having come this far, she hesitated no longer.

She repeated Count Ural’s order, then revealed the plight of her kin in Dragonspire.

“My lord, to ensure our family’s safety, I must ask your forgiveness—we cannot surrender directly. Moreover, foreign knightly orders reside within Watchtower Keep, beyond our full control.”

Her voice grew solemn. “Thus, this battle cannot be avoided.”

Ronin understood. Placido wished to surrender, but bound by threats to his family and the divided loyalties among the garrison, he could not simply open the gates.

“Speak then,” said Ronin. “How do you plan to fight?”

Mélis stood, drawing from her bosom a large sheet of parchment—a detailed map of Watchtower Keep, clearly marked with annotations.

“My brother and I have devised a defense strategy. This is the precise deployment of our forces.”

Ronin approached and studied it closely.

Placido’s tactical planning was undeniably masterful—clear evidence of professional training.

As Mélis explained further, Ronin gained complete understanding of the fortress’s overall defenses.

Though unspoken, one truth became evident: Placido had deliberately separated his own loyalists from the supporting knights and mages sent by Misthaven.

Simply put, their positions were scattered—no two knightly orders, nor knights and mages, were placed to support one another.

This was intentional, and the purpose obvious.

Fearing Ronin might miss the implication, Mélis stated plainly: “Though this war is unavoidable, I humbly ask that when you attack, you direct your fury toward the knights of Misthaven, sparing our own forces where possible.”

Ronin laughed softly. “So you wish me to purge the uncontrollable elements within Watchtower Keep with my own blade?”

Mélis did not deny it. “Death is inevitable. But I pray our people may suffer fewer losses—that benefits you as well. As for Lykard’s knights, their commander Lykard never came. Only a captain of Gold-ranked knights leads them—not even the deputy commander.”

Truth be told, they had initially believed the lie—that Commander Lykard would arrive before battle. Now it was clear: he never intended to come.

Count Ural had already decided to sacrifice both Watchtower Keep and the supporting contingent of knights and mages.

It was this realization—combined with coercion, alienation, and fear—that drove Placido to surrender, to submit himself to Ronin.

And externally, this method differed from outright betrayal.

Had Placido opened the gates willingly, he would be branded a traitor.

But if captured after defeat, then surrendered, his name would bear less shame.

Still, in either case, their kin in Dragonspire would remain in peril.

This was Placido’s desperate choice.

He did not even know if his children still lived.

If they were already dead, and he and Mélis perished uselessly in this war, the Carmine line would vanish forever.

He dared not take that risk.

Hearing Mélis’ words, Ronin nodded slowly. “I understand. But war is merciless—I cannot promise your people will suffer no casualties.”

Mélis bowed. “To preserve our ranks as much as possible is already more than we could hope for.”

Ronin sat again, now pondering another question.

“I am curious—does your Carmine family bear some grudge against Count Ural?”

He asked, “Why would he rather see you sacrificed than send reinforcements—or even allow a temporary retreat?”

Were Ronin in command, facing certain defeat, he would have ordered Placido to withdraw all forces to Misthaven, consolidating for a final stand—not leave Watchtower Keep to burn as cannon fodder.

Of course, the official excuse was to delay the advance from Wind’s Hollow.

Perhaps it could stall them a day or two. But then what?

Did Ural truly believe Trisia’s reinforcements would reach Misthaven within that window?

Mélis shook her head. “We are both vassals of the crown, theoretically independent. We’ve had no conflicts these years.”

Neither she nor Placido understood Ural’s reasoning.

From what she knew, other outposts had also received orders to hold—but none faced such dire prospects.

They were guarded by Silver Moons or even multiple Meteor Knights, without the terror of Solar Knights or dragons looming over them. Their situation was far better than Watchtower Keep’s.

Ronin could not grasp the deeper motive. He studied Mélis’ expression carefully, wondering if this was a ruse—a feigned surrender.

“What is it, my lord?”

Mélis felt surprised by his intense gaze. Did he expect some game between man and woman?

She had heard he had only recently wed the princess of the Auduin royal house.

Yet in war, surrender often came with such bargains—she was not unfamiliar with the pattern.

“My lord, name any demand—you and the Carmine family shall strive to fulfill it.”

Ronin withdrew his gaze and smiled. “Very well. We shall proceed as you and Placido have planned.”

Though he could detect no sign of feigned surrender in the other's expression, once the battle began, he would not let his guard down—fighting would proceed as it must. (End of Chapter)