Fenric turned to look back toward Arthur as he walked beside Baron Iken and Garren Perick. "Seems like a good kid."

Baron Iken shook his head. "Don't let the boy's innocence fool you. He's far sharper than he lets on."

"Oh?" Both Garren and Fenric were intrigued.

"Forgive me. I really shouldn't gossip." Baron Iken sighed. "You'll know what I mean when you have a chance to speak with him more."

Fenric was now doubly intrigued but did not want to press the matter. The boy was a young lord, after all.

Soon, they arrived before a large wooden door on which Baron Iken lightly knocked.

"Come in." A sharp yet unhurried voice replied.

Baron Iken opened the door, and the trio entered. Once inside, Fenric glanced around the office walls adorned with trinkets and books but quickly lost interest.

He was what some might call unrefined, so the numerous baubles lining the shelves just looked like children's toys to him. The owner of the trinkets was Marquis Revan, and as they approached, he lifted his cold violet eyes from the paperwork littering his desk and stared at them.

He didn't speak as one would expect, creating an awkward atmosphere where the trio was unsure of how to proceed.

When the awkward silence reached its apex, and Baron Iken was about to speak out of turn, Marquis Revan released an annoyed sigh. "Tell me how many arrived."

Baron Iken took a breath to calm his nerves as he pulled a small parchment from his breast pocket. "Regarding the northeastern lords, Earl Bynn, Charte, Koro, Perick, and Pont each sent the required one thousand men plus grain. Count Tonne, Garret, Pine, and Kinley, five hundred men plus grain. Viscount Errin and Bathe, three hundred men plus grain. Various Baron's totaling twelve hundred men plus grain."

"And the rest?" Marquis Revan asked.

"They are either on their way or sent compensation in the form of grain and coin." Baron Iken reached into his breast pocket again and pulled out another parchment before handing it to Marquis Revan. "This is the receipt recording what we have received so far."

Marquis Revan glanced at the parchment for a moment before looking up. "Good. If there's nothing else, be on your way."

Fenric was happy to oblige and flee the strange atmosphere. He had only tagged along to introduce himself, and since it was clear the Marquis had no interest in such a thing, he no longer had a reason to stick around.

However, as he and Baron Iken turned to leave, Garren spoke up. "Is it wise to have a child act as the leader for the northeastern lords? Even if our role in the war is minor, it seems irresponsible."

Marquis Revan sneered and slowly shifted his gaze to Baron Iken.

"Garren, I told you before that Arthur will only lead us on the surface. In reality, I will be in full control." Baron Iken hurriedly explained, yet it appeared to be more of a show for Marquis Revan than assurance to Garren.

"And what if the boy decides he wants to be in charge?" Garren shot back.

"Arthur isn't the type of boy who—" Baron Iken tried to explain before the Marquis interrupted him.

"—What's this?" Marquis Revan mocked. "Do you suddenly care for the boy's well-being? Or are you acting out like a petulant child because you're unhappy with serving under your nephew?"

Garren's face flushed with anger. "The boy is nothing to me, and I care not whether he is—"

"—Then. Speak. Less." Marquis Revan cut him off and turned his gaze toward Baron Iken. "For the duration of the war, Arthur will be representing the Revan house—representing me. If he should decide to take up a more active role, then that's what he shall have."

Without saying more, Marquis Revan returned to the paperwork he had been working on when they arrived, seemingly done with the interaction.

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"You can see yourselves out." He added as if it were an afterthought.

Garren stormed out of the office as Fenric, and Baron Iken lightly bowed before leaving.

"I can't be within this place another minute!" Garren shouted once the trio had exited.

"Are you headed back to the camp?" He added after taking a moment to calm his nerves.

"I'm afraid I'll be staying the night." Baron Iken replied.

Garren turned toward Fenric. "What about you?"

"I-i'll be returning." Fenric answered awkwardly.

He and Garren had met once before, and while he wouldn't go so far as to consider them friends, they were certainly friendly toward each other. Because of that, he felt somewhat compelled to leave with Garren despite giving up the rare opportunity to eat a hearty noble meal if he stayed.

It wasn't a total loss, though. Befriending nobles was part of the job, and the more nobles Fenric befriended, the more opportunities he would bring to his mercenary group.

Garren smiled and grabbed Fenric's shoulder. "Excellent, you can ride with me."

After saying their goodbyes to Baron Iken, the duo exited the manor and entered Garren's carriage. However, as they did, Fenric caught sight of something odd.

Through the manor's window, Fenric spotted Arthur speaking to someone. Of course, that in itself wasn't too strange; however, Fenric couldn't see anyone else near him.

The person Arthur spoke to may have been just a step out of sight, so Fenric didn't think much of it. Yet, as he was about to turn away and enter the carriage, Arthur turned and locked eyes with him for a moment before quickly retreating out of sight.

The short exchange just felt odd, and Fenric didn't understand why.

"Are you coming?" Garren called out from within the carriage.

"Sorry, lord. I got lost in my thoughts for a moment." Fenric replied as he stepped inside.

"Come now. I'm not a lord yet." Garren laughed. "You don't need to bother with the courtesy when there's no one around."

Fenric smiled awkwardly. "Still..."

"Anyway, what do you think of my dear brother-in-law?" Garren asked after noticing Fenric's hesitation.

A commoner such as Fenric had to be careful when answering such questions. If Fenric said too much, he risked offending the Marquis; if he said too little, he risked losing the rapport he had built with Garren.

Traversing noble society as a commoner required a particular skill set that Fenric believed he had in spades. The key was to say as little as possible while allowing the noble's bias to fill in the unspoken words with their own.

"He is... Intense."

"Intense is one way to put it." Garren snorted. "I've met abyssals with warmer personalities than his."

"And now we're expected to follow that man's progeny to war? If he's anything like his father, he'd watch us all burn with the same lofty and unconcerned expression that permanently resides on his father's face." Garren added.

"The little lord seemed rather spirited and eager when we ran into him earlier. At least, I didn't get the same impression I did with the Marquis." Fenric replied sheepishly so as not to rile up Garren.

Garren scoffed. "You heard Iken. The boy is playing the fool. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if it were all an act and the boy was a monster in a human suit, just like his father."

Fenric raised a brow. It was clear to him that Garren had some unresolved issues with the boy, as Baron Iken only claimed the boy was sharper than he appeared.

While the scene he had witnessed before leaving Revan Manor was undoubtedly odd, Arthur was still a child and likely had an overactive imagination. Arthur was probably talking to an imaginary friend and felt embarrassed after Fenric discovered it. At least that's what he believed, looking back at it.

Either way, nothing Fenric had witnessed pointed to Arthur being anything like his father. In fact, Fenric would go as far as to say the boy gave the complete opposite impression he gained from the Marquis. However, Fenric couldn't actually speak such thoughts, at least not in front of Garren.

"Thank the gods our route is so simple. Even if the boy takes command himself, we'd be hard-pressed to suffer many losses considering the ease of our targets." Fenric assured him.

In response, Garren grumbled and turned his gaze to the carriage window. The carriage remained silent for the rest of the journey, and soon, they came upon the encampment that stood in a field outside the city walls. Thousands of tents in various colors and sizes littered the horizon before them.

As they grew closer, Fenric heard the familiar subtle rumbling of men moving about the camp. He was raised by war, so he felt far more comfortable in a war camp than in a noble's carriage.

Once the carriage stopped, Fenric said his goodbyes to Garren and approached his mercenary group's command tent. He had expected to see his two lieutenants waiting inside, but he found the tent empty when he entered.

Peaking his head out from the command tent, he called to one of his men passing by. "Kale, you seen Mara and Alan anywhere?"

"Not since we arrived last night, Captain." Kale replied before suddenly slapping his head as if he had forgotten something. "That's right. I'm pretty sure I remember them saying something about going to the city to get drinks as we were making camp."

"Those damned..." Fenric could feel his blood pressure rising as he held back his rage.

He specifically told them that no one was to enter the city for any reason, let alone to go out and drink. He swore his useless lieutenants would be the death of him one day as he waved Kale off and sat down in the quiet command tent.

Fenric remained there like a concerned parent waiting for their delinquent youth to come home, yet as the sun reached its apex in the sky, Mara and Alan still hadn't returned.