Chapter 506: The Duke's Prospects

With Count Ural captured and the Flame Sigil Knights slain by Ronin, the Battle of Misthaven ended in victory for the noble alliance under Auduin’s banner.

The remaining tasks—sealing off the city, seizing Ural’s castle, and subduing the scattered garrisons and resistance—were left to the knightly orders.

Ronin and his companions needed only oversee matters, not involve themselves directly.

Their greater concern was Brohl’s arrival.

In truth, Brohl himself was stunned.

He had received the king’s letter late at night and set out immediately.

Though flight by darkness slowed his pace, he still reached Redpine Keep by afternoon—only to find the noble alliance already assaulting Misthaven.

And when he finally arrived above the fog-wreathed city, the battle was over. The victors? The forces of the Kingdom of Auduin.

Was capturing Misthaven truly so effortless?

“Marquis Ronin, this is a letter from His Majesty.”

Brohl handed Bruno’s sealed missive to Ronin. “The King sends congratulations on your sweeping victory—though he never imagined you’d take Misthaven itself.”

The others chuckled softly. Indeed, the war had advanced faster than anyone expected.

Ronin tore open the letter before them all, curious why it was addressed to him rather than Garrett.

After reading, he glanced toward Garrett—suddenly understanding the hidden currents beneath.

Garrett, sensing his gaze, met his eyes briefly before looking away. In that fleeting moment, Ronin saw evasion.

A faint smile touched Ronin’s lips. “The King anticipated our capture of Misthaven. He commands us to halt further advance into Trisia. Instead, we are to fortify here, guarding against counterattack.”

The nobles nodded in agreement.

“The Blackjade Bay cannot press forward any longer,” spoke Willis’s son-in-law, Edmund, commander of the Blackjade Knightly Order. “We must return Lord Willis’s body to our lands.”

This battle had claimed not only Viscount Willis of Blackjade Bay but also Nicola, the Flowing Star deputy commander who died shielding him.

Two Flowing Star knights lost in one strike—the cost was immense.

“Lord Willis perished in service to the crown,” Ronin said solemnly. “Please inform us of the funeral date. We shall attend to pay our respects.”

Edmund bowed deeply. “I will relay your words to William.”

Then, with quiet resolve, he began preparing to carry Willis and Nicola’s remains home.

Yet the Blackjade knights did not fully withdraw.

As victors, they had a right to share in the spoils.

But their liege was gone. Though Edmund was Willis’s son-in-law and commander, he could not speak for the entire Blackjade family.

He would have to return swiftly, summoning William or another heir to claim their due.

“We must regroup as well,” said Earl Iben gravely. “Ural’s counteroffensive came too suddenly. Every house suffered greatly. The King’s order to halt is wise.”

If any had escaped lightly, it was only those nobles tasked with assaulting the east and west gates.

Just then, a knight approached Gushan, whispering urgently.

Gushan turned to Ronin. “Ronin, my knights are bleeding heavily—but they can be saved. I need Elron, your mage!”

Ronin nodded. “Go to Elron. He’s eager to save lives.”

Since the battle’s end, Elron had moved among the wounded without command, healing freely.

Ronin never objected—such acts earned goodwill among the nobility and strengthened Elron’s own standing.

After brief words, Brohl led Ronin to Garrett.

“Your Highness.”

Brohl bowed slightly. “The King commands your immediate return to Goldenfeather Palace. He has urgent matters to discuss.”

He knew the truth behind the summons, yet out of loyalty to the crown and Garrett’s dignity, he said no more.

“Return? What of the front?”

Garrett’s face darkened. He wanted Elron’s healing, yet pride kept him from asking.

“Command will temporarily pass to Earl Gushan and Marquis Ronin,” Brohl replied. “The King’s prior letter made this clear.”

“Misthaven fell under *my* command! I avenged the shame Auduin has borne for decades! And now, just as victory is won, my father strips me of authority?”

Garrett’s voice hardened. “Tell him—I refuse!”

He knew: once he returned, returning to war would be near impossible.

And in the coming campaigns against Trisia, his chance to lead alongside Ronin would vanish.

“This…”

Brohl knew Garrett’s temper. He was no match for the prince, nor could he force compliance.

His eyes turned to Ronin, pleading silently.

Ronin wasted no words. He handed Garrett the King’s letter.

“If you defy this order, I will have Carlos escort you back.”

Garrett read the page. Fury surged within him. Had Bruno come to see him as nothing more than an *immature child*?

And the soft tone toward Ronin—how it grated upon his soul.

Whoosh—

A shadow swept overhead. Garrett looked up. The dragon’s silhouette stirred unease.

He stared long and hard, then scoffed coldly. “Matt, help me back to Redpine Keep first. Then to Goldenfeather City.”

In the end, he yielded.

Not because he feared Ronin would unleash the dragon upon him, but because he feared what Ronin might reveal—that he had usurped Gushan’s command.

Ronin reclaimed the letter. “Rest well, Your Highness. The campaign against Trisia is in capable hands.”

Garrett said nothing. Supported by his knights, he strode away in silence.

Ronin tucked the letter away.

Though Bruno had forbidden him from revealing Garrett’s power grab to Gushan and the others, this letter—he would keep.

The noble alliance left a detachment to secure the battlefield. The rest claimed Mistfort.

Thirty years past, a rumor had spread: whoever seized Misthaven would be the true heir to the Orlande Empire.

Not because it was once the imperial capital, but because, through decades of war, the city had become a symbol.

Of course, as the former defeated side, the Kingdom of Auduin had never spoken of such a thing.

Now, with the castle taken, the nobles held a simple banquet—drinking, boasting of kills: how many foes felled, how many Flowing Star knights, how many Gold Knights, how many prisoners taken.

And among them all, none shone brighter than Ronin’s deeds.

A lone man, accompanied by a dragon, slays Aluba, the famed general of Trisia Kingdom and long-standing Solar Knight, along with two Silver Moon Knights, five Meteor Knights, and numerous Golden Knights.

Moreover, Rudar had slain one Solar Knight and three Silver Moon Knights—deeds that would also be credited to Rowan.

In essence, in a single battle, Rowan was responsible for the deaths of two enemy Solar Knights, five Silver Moon Knights, and countless Meteors and Golden Knights.

Other nobles might exaggerate their feats, but Rowan’s accomplishments were witnessed by all—undeniable, solid, real.

The weight of this achievement pressed heavily upon them, so immense that none dared question it.

"Rowan, I suspect I must congratulate you in advance!" Brohl suddenly laughed.

"Why so?" Rowan asked with a smile.

Brohl said, "At the last investiture ceremony, His Majesty wished to elevate you to Duke, but due to your then-limited military record, you were ultimately granted the title of Marquis."

He paused, glancing around at the gathered nobles, who now understood.

Ivan chuckled. "In this Misthaven battle, Rowan, Rudar, and the dragon played a decisive role. Such achievements more than compensate for any prior shortcomings. This time, surely no one will object?"

"A toast is indeed in order!"

Nobles and knights alike rose to their feet, offering congratulations—whether heartfelt or merely polite, all joined in.

Rowan could hardly refuse; he raised his goblet and drank with them.

His marquis seat hadn't even grown warm yet—and now he was to become a duke?

He would speak with Bruno, certainly—but whether the title would truly be bestowed depended ultimately on Bruno's will.

After all, though opposition from others had carried weight during the last ennoblement, the final decision still rested with Bruno. (End of Chapter)