Once they had moved a fair distance away from the capital, Evergard, Eisenwolf, the knight commander, began to pick up the pace.
Since the road leading north was well-paved, the march proceeded swiftly.
Thus, the first day of the march came to an end, and they set up camp for the night.
Isaac shuddered at the thought that, without Ravenfall, he too would have had to travel on foot.
The tents were pitched close together, and some soldiers opted to simply wrap themselves in blankets near the campfires, choosing to sleep under the open sky.
The rations provided included a hearty soup filled with meat and vegetables, which wasn't bad at all.
"Whoa, what's this? Are we really allowed to have this much?"
"The portion is quite generous, isn't it? Sniff, but the smell is kind of… strange."
Hearing the murmurs of Sharen and the Grandmaster sitting beside him, Isaac gave a brief explanation.
"They're using ingredients that were either starting to spoil or would soon go bad. The military isn't just about protecting people—it also serves as a way to use up troublesome supplies."
"Ugh, now I don't feel like eating anymore."
"But eat it anyway. We'll be on the move without rest tomorrow as well. Isn't Helmut known for having a strong stomach?"
"…Yeah, Helmut does have a strong stomach."
Despite her initial reluctance, Sharen gulped down the soup. It seemed the Grandmaster had figured out how to handle her after a few attempts.
With Sharen between them, Isaac cautiously asked the Grandmaster a question.
"What about Damien?"
Damien.
Among the Grandmaster's disciples, he was the longest-serving and had a rather unique background as a former thief.
During his time as the Silent Sword, Isaac had also taught Damien various sword techniques suited to him.
He had thought Damien to be trustworthy. However, during the last invasion by the Transcendents, it was Damien who had opened the city gates for them.
Isaac was curious about the Grandmaster's thoughts on him.
"I sent him ahead. He has probably arrived in the north before us."
"I didn't bring him up to criticize him."
"I know. It's good that you're keeping track of things. But, child… I still don't know what to think."
"..."
"I'm still struggling to come to terms with the deaths of my fellow disciples… and now I have to doubt my own student."
The Grandmaster was clearly displeased by the situation.
Isaac gave a bitter smile and nodded.
"I apologize. I shouldn't have brought it up."
"No, it's fine. You are fated to carry such burdens of doubt and regret, and I regret that I cannot share them with you."
"…What are you two talking about?"
Having finished her soup, Sharen glanced back and forth between the two, curious about their conversation.
The Grandmaster merely chuckled and dismissed it as nothing important.
"Hmm, those people over there?"
The Grandmaster, still eating her soup, pointed toward a group of young nobles chatting loudly.
"That must be them—the Blue Wave Society."
"Yes, a group formed mainly by young nobles."
"Groups like that always talk about youth and innovation when they gather."
"..."
Isaac had a thought but decided against saying it aloud. This time, it wasn't bread he might get thrown at him—it was soup.
As he observed them, a young man and woman from the Blue Wave Society approached their group.
They were from House Leviath.
Reian and Marlin, a brother and sister.
"Are you all resting well?"
'The audacity is almost admirable.'
Trailing behind the bold Reian, Marlin merely glanced at them and gave a small nod as a greeting.
"Hmm? What do you need?"
"Oh, wow, your ears really are on top of your head!"
"..."
The Grand Master, known as Clarice's close aide and a half-blood who sided with humans, naturally had ears and a tail that caught people's attention.
"If one lacks education, it is understandable that they might be discourteous. However, you do not seem to be such a person."
The Grandmaster's eyes carried a chilling weight, enough to make even Sharen, standing nearby, flinch.
However, rather than being intimidated, Reian smirked and nodded.
"As nobles, we are taught to anticipate, prepare, and always be ready."
Behind him, other nobles belonging to the Blue Wave Society began to gather one by one.
"Sir Eisenwolf, our commander, warned us not to take the Transcendents lightly."
"...."
"So we've come to learn. Even if you're a half-blood, how great can they be… Could you teach us a lesson?"
The Grandmaster glanced briefly at Isaac.
In contrast, Isaac simply blinked, staring at the Blue Wave Society.
'What the hell are these guys even saying?'
In life, there are many ways to get beaten up, but among the countless soldiers present, they had somehow managed to single out the most dangerous woman here.
"If I were to put it nicely… one might say they are quite spirited."
The Grandmaster slowly rose from her seat.
She picked up the massive greatsword that had been resting beside her.
"To put it bluntly, they don't know their place."
The Blue Wave Society, which had been grinning until a moment ago, suddenly tensed.
They were young nobles—brash, proud, and unable to tolerate being looked down upon. Especially when they were together.
"Haha, well then, let's see some skill. Martin, you go first—"
"Enough nonsense."
Ignoring them entirely, the Grandmaster strode toward a spacious clearing.
Sensing the tense atmosphere, others began to quietly clear the area.
"Since it's the first day of the march, a bit of entertainment might help the troops relax."
She unsheathed her greatsword and rested it on her shoulder.
Normally, just drawing the sword itself would be an impressive technique, a form of attack in its own right.
But by doing so casually, she was showing that she was holding back.
"Come at me, all of you."
"What an insult—!"
"How dare a mere outsider—!"
"A beast like you knows nothing of noble honor!"
As the Blue Wave Society followed the Grandmaster, Sharen smacked her lips and searched for more food.
"Isaac, how long do you think this will take?"
Sharen wasn't even considering the possibility of the Grandmaster losing.
Isaac thought for a moment before answering.
"It might take a little longer than expected."
"Huh? Really? But it's the Grandmaster."
"That's because she has to subdue them without injuring them. If she were to kill them, it would be over in an instant."
"Ah, I see."
Sharen nodded in understanding.
Among the nobles of the Blue Wave Society, there was one who had not moved from her spot.
Marlin Leviath.
"…Aren't you going?"
Isaac asked.
At Isaac's question, Marlin responded expressionlessly.
"I was taught never to draw my sword unless necessary."
"...."
"Moreover, if I were to unsheathe my sword here, the reward for Baron Logan would lose its worth."
"She's almost excessively rigid."
She was so strict and indifferent that it made Isaac question whether she was really Reian's sister.
In some ways, she was even more severe than Liana.
"She… reminds me of my sister from the old days."
At Sharen's murmuring, Isaac nodded.
They didn't look alike, but their mannerisms and way of speaking were eerily similar to the Liana of the past.
And then—
A terrifying scream echoed through the camp.
"GAAAAAAAH!"
"Ughhh!"
A scream echoed at that moment.
Beyond Marlin's line of sight, the nobles known as the Blue Wave Society were sent flying one after another, rolling across the ground.
"If you possess noble blood, then show the dignity to match!"
"Kugh…!"
Among them, Reian Leviath fared the best. Though he hadn't been blown away, he was now kneeling. Yet, even he could not withstand the onslaught.
The moment he let go of his sword, the Grandmaster's massive greatsword swung once more.
"I won't take your head."
Instead, she cleanly sliced off Reian's beard.
"Ah…?!"
"Take this as a lesson."
With a cigarette in her mouth, the Grandmaster blew out a slow stream of smoke.
Reian, watching his precious beard scatter onto the ground, opened his mouth wide in shock, trembling.
"W-what is this—?! What have you done?!"
"It was unsightly. If anything, you should be thanking me. It was an ill-fitting beard for your age, after all."
"Do you have any idea how much hair tonic I used to grow that?!"
"Seems like you went through unnecessary trouble."
The Grandmaster nodded as she exhaled another puff of smoke. Reian, furious and ready to lunge at her, was interrupted.
"Enough!"
A commanding voice resonated through the night air, full of authority.
The one who intervened was none other than the Knight Commander Eisenwolf, a man whose deep wrinkles only added to his imposing presence.
"We depart early tomorrow morning. Stop this now. Sentries, prepare for duty. The rest of you, get ready for bed."
"B-but, Sir Eisenwolf! This woman has—!"
"Would you throw a tantrum over a mere beard on the battlefield as well?"
"Kh…!"
"As she said, had this been a battlefield, your head would have rolled instead! You outnumbered her, yet you still lost disgracefully. Accept the consequences!"
Reian clenched his lips tightly.
The Grandmaster simply shrugged and walked past him and the defeated nobles, returning to her spot.
"That old man plays the wise leader well."
"Sir Eisenwolf, you mean?"
"He was waiting for them to be humiliated. Clearly, Princess Clarice wasn't the only one who wanted to break the Blue Wave Society's arrogance."
The young nobles, who had soared too high, had now crashed into the ceiling of reality.
But the real question was—would they truly accept their defeat?
After all, they were still young, and youth was never without its pride.
***
A Few Days Later
As the infantry leading the march began slowing down noticeably, the freezing northern winds stung their noses, making them shiver.
Even the Grandmaster, whose breath now formed white puffs in the air, had stopped smoking.
At last, they arrived at the northern front lines, where temporary wooden fortifications held back the monstrous beasts.
Though the real battle had yet to begin, the soldiers couldn't help but smile—at least the grueling march was finally over.
"..."
Isaac found himself tensing up unconsciously.
For the first time in six months, he was about to see his ex-wife.
'Strange… I'm not sure how I should greet her.'
As Isaac mulled over this awkward dilemma, someone came running toward them from the fortifications.
A flash of red hair.
Isaac narrowed his eyes.
Could it be Liana?
But no.
The hair was shorter. The physique was more robust. The massive, rough-edged greatsword slung over the back was entirely different.
"Ah…"
"Oh."
Isaac and Sharen both let out a murmur at the same time.
With the dust of the battlefield swirling around him, a man came charging forward to greet Isaac.
"ISAAAAAAAC!!"
A man whose sparring record consisted of nothing but defeats.
The eldest son of House Helmut.
Lohengrin was charging straight toward Isaac.