Chapter 656
The sound of necro-steeds’ hooves echoed through the Grand Duke’s castle. In the blink of an eye, the entire fortress was filled with undeads.
Clang—!
The heavy iron gates opened, and the Grand Duke, clad head to toe in black armor, strode forward with long steps.
The retainers and warriors all bowed their heads in unison, offering respect.
Clank—clank—
The Grand Duke’s armored steps rang as he ascended the stairs, reaching the second floor where his personal office was located.
Thud!
[Godrick!]
Calling the name of his steward, the Grand Duke threw open the office door roughly.
[What has happened here?!]
“D-Duke!”
Godrick flinched, standing frozen. At the desk stood a figure in the exact same jet-black armor as the Grand Duke, his back turned.
[...]
The knight turned slowly with the grinding sound of interlocking armor, facing the Grand Duke. The two identical suits of armor stood in silence, staring at each other.
Then, the knight by the window raised both arms, grasped his helmet, and slowly lifted it off.
Revealed beneath was a boy’s face, still carrying youthful traces, framed by blue hair. His smile was soft and kind.
“It’s an honor to see you again.”
[...You.]
The Grand Duke’s eyes gleamed within the helmet.
[The one I saw earlier today.]
“Yes.”
The two Legion Commanders of the Dark Alliance stood face-to-face, eyes locked. Godrick, caught between them, felt his heart pounding violently.
[Godrick.]
“Y-yes, Your Grace!”
[Leave.]
Godrick cast an uneasy glance at Simon, but had no choice other than to close the office door behind him. With a boom, silence descended upon the chamber.
Clank.
Clank.
The Grand Duke stepped toward the wall where armor was hung. Then, Duke too grasped the helmet with both hands and slowly removed it.
A cascade of lustrous hair tumbled down like a waterfall. From beneath the coarse helm emerged fair skin and refined features.
Simon unconsciously parted his lips.
Hidden beneath the helmet was a strikingly beautiful face, fierce eyes reminiscent of a raptor, and a teardrop-shaped beauty mark beneath her eye.
‘The Northern Grand Duke… is a woman?!’
“Do you have some complaint?”
Her cold voice cut the air. Simon quickly shook his head and replied, “No, ma’am!”
Hoo—
She hung her helmet back on the wall, unstrapped the sword at her hip, and leaned it against the wall. Then she strode over and sat, gesturing to the seat across from her.
“Thank you.”
Simon sat nervously. She closed her eyes briefly, as though lost in thought.
Tap. Tap.
The metal tips of her gauntleted fingers drummed lightly against the armrest. Soon, she raised her head.
“Explain. Why did you disguise yourself as me and save that village?”
Her tone was archaic, her voice flawless without a blemish of imperfection.
Simon began calmly.
“While waiting in the castle for you, I received word from a messenger that the village of Banzdale was under attack by undeads. I had yet to receive formal authorization from Your Grace to engage in combat, but as a necromancer of Keyzen, I couldn’t simply ignore it.”
Simon clasped his hands together.
“However, the enemy force was far larger than expected. It was an army. Alone, I couldn’t hope to protect all the villagers. So I resorted to my own forces.”
“To be exact—”
She rested her chin in her hand.
“Your Legion.”
“Yes.”
Since Neftis had already hinted that the Grand Duke knew of Simon and the 7th Legion, he wasn’t surprised.
He had, after all, come to the north of Carlos precisely to undergo commander training.
“The northern lords either don’t know or don’t care, but my Legion bears the accusation of the Sin of Betrayal. I cannot reveal it openly.”
“So, you disguised yourself as me, a current Legion Commander, and used your Legion to defeat the enemy.”
“That is correct.”
Simon bowed politely.
“I apologize for acting recklessly without permission. If punishment is due, I shall accept it.”
“......”
The Grand Duke rose slowly from her chair.
Clank—clank—
Each step carried a sense of weight and contemplation. She placed her hands behind her back and stared out the office window.
“Arrogant fool.”
Simon realized she was addressing him and raised his head.
“What kind of Legion Commander do you aspire to become?”
Necromancers—able to command Ancient Undeads and lead limitless armies without restriction. Only seven such beings existed across the continent.
But necromancers, as they often did, did not always walk the righteous path. Magnus was proof of that—he killed his own teacher, dragged innocents into his ambitions for power, and fought other Legion Commanders without hesitation.
“I want to use this power I possess in the right way, for the sake of the people.”
Simon recalled the fervent cheers and tears of the villagers when he had gone to save Banzdale.
“Just like Your Grace.”
The Grand Duke, hands clasped behind her back as she looked out the window, let out a sharp laugh.
“As expected of a southerner, your tongue drips with flattery. Know this—being a hero is no life of leisure.”
Yet despite her words, her tone was far gentler than when they had first met. She walked over, picked up a bottle placed by the window, popped the stopper, added ice, poured the drink into cups, and set one before him.
“It isn’t alcohol, so drink without worry.”
She returned to the sofa and sipped. Simon followed suit, savoring the fragrance.
Was it northern tea? The bitter flavor was exquisite.
“I heard the story from Lady Neftis. Though I did cut off the communication midway.”
She propped her chin in her hand.
“You came here to receive commander training, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“But what I told you when we first met remains true.”
—The North cannot afford the leisure to teach a greenhorn.
“Right now, the North is under an unprecedented offensive.”
Her expression grew serious as she lifted the cup.
“That creature seems eager to finally settle the score.”
“That creature?”
“Have you heard this old saying?”
A faint smile curved her lips.
“Like the North Star stirring a blizzard.”
“Ah, yes! Of course.”
It was a proverb not only in the Alliance but across the continent.
“The North Star is real. It controls the Frost Field, and it is one of the oldest Undead in existence.”
“I-it really exists?!”
The North Star—so legendary it had become a mere idiom.
Some archaeologists even claimed it had existed since humanity’s ape-like days, a monstrosity so ancient that the term Ancient Undead no longer sufficed. Its abilities allowed it to linger in the North, amassing power for countless ages until it became utterly untouchable.
Because its territory bordered theirs, the Grand Dukes of northern Carlos had fought against the North Star throughout history.
Even the current Grand Duke, hailed as the greatest 2nd Legion Commander in history, had waged long wars against it but never prevailed.
“Until now, the North Star focused on turning wild monsters into undeads, consolidating its power here. But now… it commands an all-out assault. The hour of decision is drawing near.”
[Khh-hhh! Just so!]
Feer’s voice erupted inside Simon’s head.
[When we tried to recruit that ‘Gourmet’ into the Legion and the Core nearly exploded—hah! That was the North Star’s doing. It didn’t want to risk losing him to the Grand Duke!]
‘That makes sense.’
Simon sipped the cold tea again, lost in thought.
The conclusion was clear: the North was at war, and the Grand Duke had no time to spare for him.
If that was the case—
“I propose a deal.”
At his words, her expression twisted.
“A deal, not a plea?”
“Yes. An equal bargain between Legion Commanders.”
Simon placed a hand over his chest.
“If Your Grace allows me to continue disguising as you, then for the duration of my stay, I and the 7th Legion will fight here in the North alongside your people.”
“......”
“I came here to become stronger. I’ll fight all the more in your stead. In return, use the time you gain to instruct me.”
Listening quietly, the Grand Duke let out a short laugh.
‘So he’ll carve out time for me to teach him himself, will he?’
Arrogant, audacious—but amusing.
“Flattering, impudent brat. How long have you even been a necromancer?”
“About a year and a half.”
“Short indeed. Do you truly believe that, even with a Legion, a mere student can aid in this war?”
“My answer,” Simon’s lips curved, “depends on how Your Grace decides to train me. I’ll endure whatever harsh lessons you demand.”
“What was that?”
The Grand Duke burst out laughing aloud.
Not only was he saying he’d earn his own lessons, he was also telling her: If you want me to perform in battle, then train me yourself.
For someone to spout such words so boldly—
This boy was insane in more ways than one.
“Impertinent, but I like you.”
She stood and extended her hand.
“The negotiation is concluded, youngest Commander.”
Simon rose and clasped her hand firmly.
“I look forward to your guidance!”
* * *
The 7th Legion and the 2nd Legion thus forged a joint front.
Several agreements were made with the Grand Duke.
First: Whenever Simon wore her armor, he would act as her representative, and his commands would carry the same weight as hers. Any resulting issues would be borne by the Grand Duke herself.
Second: He was granted full authorization for all battles in the North, with independent command. Rights over corpses and undeads belonged to whichever Legion killed them.
Third: All of the 7th Legion’s undeads in the North would be treated as those of the 2nd Legion, guaranteed by the Grand Duke herself.
That was the broad outline. Simon stored her armor in subspace, ready to use whenever needed.
Since it was already late and just after battle, they agreed that her commander lessons would begin the next day. He also handed her Neftis’ letter, as he’d promised.
—Report to the castle tomorrow morning.
Because the castle swarmed with her undeads, Simon decided it wasn’t a suitable place to stay. He chose instead to lodge at a nearby inn.
After parting with the Grand Duke, Simon stepped outside.
Bustle, bustle!
As the most prosperous city of the North, its streets thrummed with life even at night.
It was a place of mingled races and people.
Because northern Carlos was cut off from the outside world, criminals, escaped slaves, and persecuted races had all gathered here. Past crimes or status meant nothing—only strength and skill were virtues.
Thus mercenaries and hot-blooded young nobles often flocked here to make their names known.
‘But still…’
The fashion of the locals left much to be desired.
In particular, some warriors strutted around in bizarre armor that left their flesh bare, claiming no blizzard could break a northern spirit. It was not a pleasant sight.
He couldn’t tell whether that was chest hair or armor.
“In that case, this girl has dressed to suit the northern style as well!”
Erzebet had burst from subspace, eager to stretch outside. Without even looking, Simon stripped off his robe and draped it around her shoulders.
“...Please, don’t draw attention.”
“Oh my, what a shame.”
Yet she seemed secretly pleased, sniffing at the robe as she wrapped herself in it.
“Ah! Since we’re out of school for once, shall we have some wine at the inn? This girl shall pour it for you!”
“...I’ve got schoolwork to study at dawn.”
Ignoring him, Erzebet flitted off, promising to fetch wine and food. Left with no choice, Simon leaned against a wall to wait.
He stood absentmindedly when—
“Well now, fancy meetin’ you again, pretty lady.”
A burly, hairy northerner loomed toward him.
Superb.
When are we getting more free chapters?
Thanks for the new chapters