Over the following days, the war became as still as the waters of Liurnia. The Cuckoos seemed to have lost their appetite for assault; they didn't even bother to fire the trebuchets. They simply watched with cold eyes as the Carians repaired their fortifications, stacking the walls higher and thicker.
A mutual understanding had formed. Caria sent no harrassing parties, and the two forces simply stared at each other across a thousand meters of open field. Don leaned against the battlements, looking south. Supply wagons flowed in and out of the Cuckoo camp; the mercenaries clearly had no intention of leaving.
"Hmph. Keeping the 'enemy' alive to keep the gold flowing, are we?"
As long as this manor remained in Carian hands, the Cuckoos could use the "threat" as an excuse to demand endless war funds from the Academy. It put Raya Lucaria in an awkward position. If they stopped paying, the Cuckoos would pack up and leave, and the Academy had no other way to stop a Carian counter-offensive. If they kept paying... well, they were essentially subsidizing a stalemate.
"Heh, those traitors must be feeling the squeeze right about now." Alayn appeared at Don's side, slamming his hand onto the stone with a triumphant laugh. "I heard they're trying to recall all the wandering sorcerers. Hmph. With wars breaking out everywhere, I doubt many will come crawling back to be cannon fodder."
Recall the sorcerers? Why haven't I heard anything?
Don mused. At his own request, his identity as a Knight of Honor remained a secret. "The tall blade catches the wind," as the saying went, and he had no desire to be a high-profile target. Since Caria was under a tight blockade, few could connect the "Bloodhound Knight" to a lowly magic apprentice. The secret would hold for a while.
"But won't the Academy use the Queen to force our hand?"
"They wouldn't dare."
"Why? Because of that one Carian Knight left in the Academy?"
"Moongrum? That man is a legend, but he isn't the only reason." Alayn pointed toward the distant, massive Erdtree. "As long as the Erdtree stands, those sorcerers wouldn't harm the Queen if you gave them ten lives! Not a single one has the courage to face the potential return of Radagon."
Don nodded. It made sense. No one knew if the Elden Lord was dead or alive. If the King were to return and find his former wife harmed, the Academy would be erased from the map. Betrayal could be smoothed over with politics and interest, but harming a King's kin was an unforgivable stain.
"So the Academy plays a game of shadows with the Cuckoos. Mathews isn't a fool either; he'll let them bleed. I suppose this victory feast today is a bit of a test to see if the Cuckoos will bite?"
The manor was bustling. Tables were set in the clearings, piled with goat meat, fish, shrimp, and strong spirits. Even the hundred warriors on the walls were salivating.
"Are you a tapeworm in Iji's gut? How do you know everything?" Alayn smirked, patting Don's shoulder. "Everything is ready. If the Cuckoos try any tricks, they'll find a graveyard waiting for them. Go on, enjoy yourself. You've earned it."
"Alright. I'm off." Don turned to leave, but his wrist was snatched.
"You're far too blunt! You can't even offer a polite farewell? Go, go—but save some room in your stomach. When our shift is over, you're drinking with me. I'll show you the true capacity of a Carian Knight!"
Don broke free with a shrug. You're seeking death, he thought. He had few hobbies, but a good drink was one of them. As the saying goes: In this life, I love only poetry and wine, and a single flash of my blade to save the world.
Thinking of the taste of Liurnian fruit wine, he wiped his mouth.
Damn. I'm actually drooling.
Don walked down the stairs, exchanging nods with the Carian soldiers who greeted him. He showed no trace of the elitism one might expect from a knight. Reaching the clearing, he surveyed the scene—it was a beautiful, chaotic mess.
Crowds swirled everywhere. The cooks, who usually wore sour expressions, were now smiling as they served up delicacies. Several Trolls sat cross-legged on the ground, their greatswords used as anchors for ropes where young soldiers were playing on makeshift swings. Some even scrambled up the Trolls' shoulders to jump around.
A man wearing a Glintstone Crown sprinted past. Don dodged, seeing a bald sorcerer chasing him, gasping for breath after only a few paces. The onlookers roared with laughter.
"Hahaha! Roderick, no wonder you wear that crown even when you eat! I've got a hair-growth tonic here, want to try it?"
"Bastard! This baldness is a symbol of my wisdom! What do you know!?" The man smoothed the few remaining wisps of hair on his head, cursing as he went to find a friend for help. Seeing his "dashing" silhouette and the few rebellious hairs fluttering in the wind, Don doubled over, clutching his stomach.
Hahaha. Thank the gods this body isn't balding. Otherwise, I'd never take the mask off either.
"Hey, what are you laughing at?"
Don felt a heavy slap on his back. He turned, wincing, to find the blonde giantess standing behind him. The gash on her face had healed, leaving a jagged, fierce scar.
"Just that sorcerer... he's a bit of a joke. By the way, Captain, your wound healed fast."
"The idiots in the infirmary learned a few tricks from the Capital's perfumers. Their skill isn't bad." Karin thumped her chest, then whispered teasingly, "You're a 'Lord Knight' now. I can't have you calling me 'Captain'."
"We are companions who faced death together. That won't change even if I become Elden Lord."
"Well said! I hate those stuffy formalities anyway. But you're different today."
"How so?"
"Hmm... usually, you're quite gloomy."
"Hey, combat is combat, and life is life. I'm not some tragic hero carrying a world of grudges."
"I'm starting to like you more and more. How about you come to my quarters tonight?"
"Uh... I'll pass."
They chatted as they walked, soon spotting Arno waving from two empty seats he'd saved. Don sat down and poked the boy's bandaged stomach. "You're better too?"
Arno hissed in pain, flinching away. "I can't come and enjoy the atmosphere!?"
"You can, you can. But this wine is mine then." Don snatched the cup from the boy's table. Supplies were tight, and wine was scarce; each man only received a small amount.
"Wait, you never used to drink. You said alcohol interfered with your thinking."
Don smiled, giving his young friend the same four words: "I saw the light."
There was no explaining it. Why bother pretending to be the old Don Wright? With meat and wine on the table, a comfortable life was its own reward.
Arno was about to press him when the rowdy crowd fell silent. Blaidd the Half-Wolf appeared on a nearby roof.
"Everyone. On behalf of Her Highness Ranni, I congratulate you. It is through your valor that we have held the land beneath our feet."
The Wolf's cold voice echoed. The men, accustomed to Ranni's style, listened intently. However, Blaidd was a man of few words; he simply upended his cup, pouring the wine onto the shingles.
"This first cup is for the fallen heroes."
He took a second cup from an attendant. "This second cup is for your martial prowess!"
He drained it in one gulp and took a third, holding it high.
"This third cup: may Caria endure like the full moon!"
"Glory to Caria!"
The crowd roared in response. The sound of gulping followed as a hundred warriors wiped their mouths and sat back down. The cheers, the toasts, and the scramble for meat became a blur of noise.
You're basically drinking water at that rate! Don shook his head, putting down his cup with a sigh. He was hesitant to finish his second portion when a cook walked by and surreptitiously dropped a bronze flask onto his table.
Sneaky. Playing favorites, are we?
He guessed Alayn had sent it. He opened the cap and sniffed, his eyes lighting up.
The good stuff.
This was clearly from a private collection. He guarded it as Karin reached out, pushing Arno's leftover cup toward her instead.
"Tch. Stingy."
"Heh. Captain, your wounds aren't fully healed. I'm doing this because I care."
"What do you know? The more it stings, the better it feels!"
Don stared in shock. A masochist, then. He poured himself a cup of the fine wine and raised it solemnly.
"Karin, thank you for looking out for me."
"Don't mention it. If it weren't for you, I'd be dead." The giantess stood up, hauling Arno with her. She asked directly, "You're being transferred out of the manor, aren't you?"
Don looked at his silent, saddened young friend. A true friend knows when to let go. "Yes. I need to find a way to get stronger."
"Just remember to let me ride your coattails when you're a big shot."
The two shared a laugh and drained their cups. Don sat back down, picking up his fork with a flourish.
"Come! Let's eat!"
The feast lasted from dusk until the dead of night. Soldiers with bulging stomachs were slumped everywhere across the manor grounds. Fortunately, Liurnia was warm, and sleeping in the open wouldn't result in a cold. Interestingly, the Cuckoos hadn't attacked; instead, as a show of defiance, they had held their own feast in their camp.
Feasting on both sides of the wall—one wondered if the sorcerers in the Academy were having a collective stroke.
The blood-feud rivals had found a strange synchronicity, allowing their frayed nerves to finally relax. Near midnight, Don staggered down from the battlements, hugging his wine flask. His head was swimming and his tongue felt heavy.
Damn... forgot this isn't my old body...
The magic apprentice's body, though stronger now, was still sensitive to alcohol. He managed to stumble down the stairs, leaning against a wall as he retched.
"But I still laid Alayn out... hmph... told you you were seeking death..."
Don gasped for air, reaching for his mouth, when a handkerchief was pressed into his hand. He took it instinctively, then froze. He turned around quickly.
A petite figure draped in a black cloak stood behind him. The exquisite face was very familiar.
"Highne—"
"Shh. I came here without Blaidd's knowledge." Ranni pressed a finger to her lips. Seeing Don's look of shock, she cleared her throat. "Do not overthink it. As the sole remaining member of the Royal family, I felt it necessary to witness such a remarkable victory."
Then you should have come earlier.
Don remained confused, pointing to the soldiers slumped in various states of undress around them. "Do you wish to give a speech? Hold on, I'll wake Alayn up."
"Do not!" Ranni's voice rose, quickly stopping the idiot. She cast a sidelong glance at him. "I only wish to see. And what of thee? Dost thou not thank me for the gift?"
"So this wine was from you? I thought it tasted different." Don realized the truth, raising the flask he'd been nursing. It was indeed a vintage that could rival the legendary 'Dragonspring.'
"Hush. Quietly." Ranni was genuinely exasperated. She grabbed the youth's arm and pulled him along. "Follow me."
They climbed to the top of a stone tower. The guards stationed here had long since gone to sleep. The silver moon bathed the platform, offering an incredible view, marred only by the rhythmic snoring from below.
Don looked around. To the left was the quiet Liurnia of the Lakes; to the right, beyond the cliffs, lay the boundless sea. He took a deep breath.
"The view is beautiful."
"As I said. Long, long ago, Rykard and I would often come here to watch the horizon." Ranni sat upon the stone wall, her silhouette seemingly merging with the full moon. "Consider that bottle my personal thanks. Had it not been for thee, this place of memory would surely be a ruin."
Her tone was nostalgic. A demigod's life was far too long—so long that beautiful memories became blurred. Thus, the places that held those memories were precious.
Don said nothing, simply staring at the maiden beneath the moon. Her silhouette looked ethereal in the silver light.
"Why dost thou stare so?" Ranni didn't turn her head, so he couldn't see her expression.
"I only feel that today, Your Highness is less 'majestic'—and more real."
...
A long silence followed. Just as Don was wondering if he'd crossed a line, the figure with her back to him spoke.
"Henceforth, in private... thou mayest call me Ranni. I find the title of 'Highness' somewhat strange... as if thou art teasing me."
"Yes, Highness. Of course, Highness."
"Thou!" The maiden spun around, staring at him with an expressionless face, but Don simply smiled back. After a moment of standoff, her azure eyes flickered with a touch of mischief.
"Give it here." She suddenly reached out a hand.
"Give what?"
"The wine. I have observed thee for some time and noticed thou art quite fond of it. For once, I shall make an exception... and share a few cups with thee."
Don, clutching the flask, didn't move. He stared blankly at the Princess. It wasn't that he was stingy; he had just remembered something.
You're a doll, aren't you? Isn't that basically cheating!?
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