Not-So an Extra

—Gallop —Gallop —Gallop 

The sound of galloping hooves echoed through the air as a legion of cavalry approached the meadow. 

Clad in pristine white armor, they carried polearms that glinted in the moonlight, held firmly at their sides.

When Nathaniel's golden eyes caught the sight of the Lancaster family pennant fluttering amidst their ranks, he realized it was their reinforcement.

When Asher mentioned that he would report the matter to their father, Nathaniel assumed it was a jest. 

To his surprise, that was the truth, huh?

Currently, they were in the Egberg region. 

The distance between the refugee camp and Lancaster fiefdom was estimated to be a five-day on horseback, yet they had managed to arrive in just three days. 

It seemed they had been galloping nonstop at full speed—which was crazy. 

Well, as expected of the Lancaster Knights.

—Gallop —Gallop —Gallop 

Passing by him, the cavalry immediately rushed toward the enemy and ruthlessly battered the enemy to the ground.

"Arrghh!!"

"Ugh!!"

Before they could even attempt to stand up, the cavalry behind them charged forward, trampling their bodies underfoot.

Each crushed limb was accompanied by a wave of screams and blood-curdling cries.

"Aarrghhh!!"

"Urrrgggh!!"

With no hesitation, the cavalry raised and swung their polearms, mercilessly striking and cutting down as many of the foes as they could. 

Limbs flew through the air, the violent force of the polearm rending flesh and muscle asunder. 

Blood spewed out everywhere, coating the warriors and the region in an unearthly crimson. 

One by one, lifeless bodies began to scatter and pile up on the ground.

—Gallop —Gallop —Gallop

As the sound of hooves grew louder behind them, Nathaniel and Wyatt turned around. 

There, they saw a middle-aged man with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes riding toward them.

It was Graham Lancaster, the Duke of the Lancaster Family and Nathaniel's late brother's grandfather.

Without wasting a moment, Wyatt gave Graham a respectful sword salute. 

"Sir!"

The old man nodded in acknowledgment and dismounted from his horse. 

He turned to face Nathaniel, his cold gaze scrutinizing the young prince.

For a few tense moments, they stood there in silence, the weight of their family's bitter feud hanging heavily in the air.

Nathaniel felt a surge of anger at the old man's apparent disrespect, but he knew better than to show it.

Finally, Graham spoke in his deep, gravelly voice. 

"Your Highness, it's been a while."

Nathaniel nodded curtly and responded. 

"Yes, it has, Duke Graham."

Graham Lancaster looked around, taking in the surroundings with a critical eye.

When he realized that the person he was looking for was nowhere to be found, the Duke asked without removing his eyes from the battlefield.

"I don't see my grandson?"

"Adrian is currently at the refugee camp."

The Duke hummed and nodded in understanding, still unbothered to look at him.

"Well, he's too young for a war anyway."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes boredly and clucked his tongue inwardly in annoyance.

'Ha. What kind of bullshit is that? Your grandson is the brilliant strategist behind this victorious battle!'

He didn't like how the old man before him belittled his brother and so, Nathaniel spat his mind.

"Yes, he is still very young. But he has shown great promise as a leader, even at his age."

Graham raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by Nathaniel's praise of his grandson. 

"Is that so? I had no idea."

"Yes, he's—"

Nathaniel's hand instinctively flew to his shoulder when a sudden, sharp pain shot up his arm.

"—argh!"

He winced in agony. 

Wyatt, who was standing nearby, deftly caught Nathaniel's body as it lurched forward.

"Your Highness!" 

Wyatt exclaimed, his voice filled with concern.

Graham darted toward them and upon seeing Nathaniel's face contorted in pain, he gave an urgent order.

"Lie him down and remove his armor."

"Y-yes, Sir!"

Nathaniel was quickly laid down on the ground.

After removing Nathaniel's armor and aketon, a blue discoloration was revealed on his skin, stretching from his shoulder down to his arm and across his right chest.

It was undoubtedly the work of poison.

Graham took out an antidote and carefully fed it to Nathaniel.

For a few minutes, nothing seemed to happen. 

But then, to their surprise, the blue discoloration on Nathaniel's skin began to spread even further.

"Ugh!"

Nathaniel let out a grunt of pain and sweat beaded on his forehead, his face etched in agony.

"I-I think His Highness' symptoms are getting worse."

Wyatt conveyed his thoughts, his voice dripped with worry.

"Tsk."

Graham's face darkened and clicked his tongue in annoyance. 

He knew he had to act fast to save this little brat's life.

"Is there a Physician in the Refugee Camp?"

Graham asked and Wyatt nodded his head.

"Y-yes, there is."

Without hesitation, Graham scooped Nathaniel up in his arms and placed him on his horse. 

He mounted the horse and pulled on the reins before turning toward Wyatt.

"I leave this place to you!"

"Yes, Sir!"

With that, they rode toward the Refugee Camp.

Graham's icy blue eyes fixed on the boy lying on the horse's neck in front of him.

Despite the temptation to abandon Nathaniel on the battlefield and let him die, Graham's conscience refused to allow it.

.

.

.

"Open the gate!"

A knight's voice echoed throughout the space and Gizel turned toward the Refugee Camp entrance. 

Soon, a horse was seen galloping into the Refugee Camp, accompanied by a man's shout.

"I need a Physician!"

—Neigh!

Hastily dismounting from his horse, a man with blonde hair lifted a young man from his horse. 

It was only then that he recognized the familiar figure in the man's arms: the Imperial First Prince.

Without delay, Gizel rushed toward them.

"Your Grace, this way."

Graham nodded and followed as Gizel quickly led them to a tent.

Upon entering the tent, Graham was caught off guard by the sight of a familiar figure lying on a bed, surrounded by four children.

"Ah…"

It was his grandson.

"Please, lay him here."

Recovering from his surprise, Graham carefully laid Nathaniel's unconscious body on the bed across from Adrian's.

"Sylvina, please."

"Y-yes!"

A pink-haired girl approached the bed and her eyes widened in shock at the sight of Nathaniel's discolored skin.

"Uh, is this really okay?"

Graham's voice was laced with concern as he looked at the young girl in front of him.

"Be at ease, Your Grace. I shall summon another physician posthaste. In the meantime, Sylvina will administer treatment to His Highness to prevent the poison from spreading any further."

Gizel reassured him and Graham nodded hesitantly, still unsure about the situation, but he had no other choice.

"Alright."

Gizel turned to the other children who had gathered in the tent, beckoning them to give Sylvina some space. 

The children nodded in understanding and bowed respectfully before leaving the room.

"Sylvina, please."

"Yes."

The girl stepped forward and began to conjure water from the air. 

The water swirled around her hands, forming a bulb of water that covered her entire palms. 

She then placed her hands on Nathaniel's shoulder, her eyes closed in concentration.

"Your Grace, I will fetch another Physician."

Graham nodded and Gizel left the room.

Letting Sylvina do her job, Graham veered around and approached Adrian's bedside.

He took a seat and softly stroked his grandson's hair, his heart heavy when he gazed at the bloodstains on his clothes. 

Graham reached out and clasped Adrian's hand before letting out a deep sigh. 

"Haa…"

Adrian was too young to be grappling with the harsh realities of war like this.

After a few minutes passed, a voice broke the silence.

"Your Grace, I have completed my task."

Rising from his seat and returning to Nathaniel's side, Graham could see the color returning to the boy's shoulder, which was a relief.

Glancing at the girl, he noticed a bulb of water floating on top of her hands and inside it, black drops of water swirled and danced.

Curious, he pointed at the bulb and posed a question.

"Is that the poison?"

"Ah, that is correct."

"Can you make a sample of it?"

Sylvina hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with doubts and questions.

She had no idea if capable of it, but there was nothing wrong with trying.

Also, she could ask another physician for guidance.

Eventually, she nodded and bowed before excusing herself to prepare the sample.

Not long after, Gizel returned with another physician.

The old woman quickly checked on Nathaniel's condition and informed everyone that the Prince was stable and would awaken soon. 

She then excused herself to prepare some medicine.

With Nathaniel's condition stabilized, Graham returned to Adrian's side and finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind.

"Can I ask what happened to my grandson?"

Gizel hesitated for a moment before responding. 

"Your Grace, before I answer that, may I ask if His Majesty has informed you of the situation we faced?"

Graham nodded. 

"Yes, His Majesty told me that you're facing more than 10,000 enemies here."

"That's correct, Your Grace. And what's more, there was no strategist present. We had only ordinary knights and Knight Lieutenants to lead us."

Graham's brow furrowed. 

"What does that have to do with Adrian's condition?"

Gizel took a deep breath. 

"Your Grace, it was Prince Adrian who took charge of the strategist's role. And with his magic, he was able to wipe out three-quarters of the enemy forces by himself."

Graham was stunned. 

"What?"