Arthur sat atop Aithon on a small hill overlooking the Bernish-Agelian camp. The cool Bernish breeze carried with it distorted shouts and other unrecognizable sounds of battle, but the noise did little to inform him of the battle's flow.
An occasional fireball cut through the night, bathing the darkness in flames before burning out and becoming indistinguishable from the sea of cinders before him.
Arthur yawned as his eyes grew increasingly heavy. Despite his mental age, he was at the whims of his teenage body, and fighting against the sandman's call as a teenager was much more difficult than he remembered.
As he fought the urge to sleep, the wind carried with it a sudden battle cry followed by the sound of a horn blown thrice.
"The enemy's routed, lord." Jeren announced from Arthur's side.
Despite his glee, Arthur was surprised. "That was quick, no? There are twenty thousand of them. I expected the fight to last until daybreak, if not longer."
Jeren nodded. "It is. Something significant likely occurred to change the flow of battle."
"Well, no use guessing." Arthur groaned as he lifted his arms and stretched his body. "Let's go down and get some loot!"
"It could still be dangerous, young master. We should wait a little while longer." Foster warned.
Arthur shook his head. "If we wait too long, we'll be left with nothing but scraps. Don't worry. No one is more concerned about my well-being than I am. We'll simply back off if they're still fighting when we get close."
"Very well, lord. If you'll allow it, I will take point." Jeren asked.
"Good! Let's go." Arthur replied as his eleven personal guards encircled him and moved down the hill.
Baron Iken's silhouette came into view as they approached the southern edge of the encampment. Hundreds of men knelt before him as Ollerinian soldiers sorted them into two groups.
"What are they doing?" Arthur asked as he tugged on Aithon's reins, slowing his advance.
Saria was closest to him, so she spoke up first. "They're sorting out the ones who have mana cores from those who don't. The mages will be bound or collared with marinite while the others will be tied up with rope."
"Baron Iken, what's the status of the battle?" Arthur asked as another group of prisoners was escorted before him, increasing the numbers even more.
"Ah, lord Arthur. Rest assured that the battle was a decisive victory, and the merit for finding the enemy's camp shall be yours." Baron Iken sighed. "Unfortunately, many fled long before the enemy lines crumbled. So we won't have an exact number of enemy casualties until we hear back from Marquis Bennet and the rest of the mages in the west."
"Great!" Arthur cheered innocently. "I intend to look around the camp and see what I can find. Will that be a problem?"
"Hah... To be young again. It's fine. There are still pockets of fighting on the western edge of the camp. So stick to the eastern portion and take some extra men with you, just in case." Baron Iken replied before suddenly adding. "And stay with your guards."
Arthur nodded as Jeren galloped over to some nearby soldiers, ordering them to join his little looting adventure. Once their numbers swelled to forty, they entered the smoke-filled camp.
Most of the damage was concentrated on the camp's western half, leaving the eastern portion closer to the cliff practically untouched. The uneven damage was likely caused by the angle of attack from the ridgeline, but it was beneficial to Arthur since that meant there was loot to be found.
Glancing around like a kid in a candy shop, Arthur's eyes honed in on an embroidered violet tent that stuck out like a sore thumb near the cliff face. As they made their way toward it, Ollerinian soldiers in every direction sat hunched over the dead, plundering anything of value, while others escorted groups of battle captives by swordpoint to where Baron Iken was stationed.
As they approached the large tent, Arthur glanced at Kyren, who was floating nearby. Kyren read Arthur's mind and flew inside to scout it out.
"I'm claiming this tent and those surrounding it as my plunder. Make sure no one else comes here looking for loot." Arthur declared in an attempt to buy time until Kyren returned.
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"It's empty, kid." Kyren announced as he phased out of the tent.
Arthur jumped off Aithon's back. "Let's check it out. Foster can go in first to make sure it's safe."
He already knew it was safe, but he still needed to play the part, so after Foster nodded and entered, Arthur and the rest of his personal guards followed a step behind.
The inside of the tent had a clear feminine aesthetic to it. All the furniture was sleek and slender, while the white paint blanketing them had silver and violet accents, giving each piece a regal look. Outside aesthetic choices, the tent and its contents were much the same as Arthur's, albeit a bit grander in appearance.
As his guards searched around, Arthur sat behind the delicate-looking desk in the center of the room and opened each of its tiny drawers. Unfortunately, most were empty, sans some blank pieces of parchment and a small golden family crest that Arthur quickly pocketed.
"Get out of there now!" Foster shouted from the bedroom.
Arthur jumped up and turned his head as Jeren rushed in.
"Young master, I found a woman hiding in here!" Foster clarified.
Arthur shot a quick glare at Kyren before shouting an order to his guards still in the drawing room. "The rest of you stay out here and search for anything big enough to house a person!"
Kyren crossed his arms and scoffed. "How the shit was I supposed to know a rat was hiding in there? Even if I looked inside, I wouldn't be able to see anything. Just because I'm a ghost doesn't mean I can see in complete darkness."
Arthur ignored him despite agreeing with his reasoning and entered the tent's bedroom. Inside, a woman who appeared to be in her late twenties stood sheepishly with her head humbly bowed before Jeren and Foster's swords.
Arthur examined her, finding her rather pretty despite her messy appearance. She was fair-skinned with long, shiny black hair, yet her appealing body was covered by what amounted to a potato sack. Moreover, the portions of her body uncovered by the sack were caked in undried mud, creating a rather curious contrast.
Arthur tilted his head. "Aunty, why go through all the trouble?"
"W-what do you mean, lord?" The woman replied without looking up from the floor.
Arthur rolled his eyes before sitting on the bed behind Jeren and Foster. "If this nice aunty so much as moves, don't hesitate to poke her full of holes."
"Yes, young master!" "Yes, lord!" They replied in unison.
The woman began to weep. "P-please lord, I'm o-only a slave. I don't want to d-die."
Arthur leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm, and examined the woman again. "Have you checked her for mana yet?"
"I checked before you entered, lord. She's a sixth circle, but her mana core's empty." Jeren replied.
"Hah?" Arthur's voice distorted along with his face.
He was ninety percent sure she was a noble due to how shiny her hair was despite the apparent attempts to make herself look dirty, but Jeren's words all but confirmed it.
Arthur recollected himself. "Aunty, let's play a game. Let's pretend you were some noble of Agelia or Bern—"
"—Lord, I'm not, I swear!" The woman shouted in between sobs.
"I said let's pretend that was the case. Now, if Aunty was a noble pretending to be a servant, how does it benefit me to not simply turn you over to be burned at the stake?" Arthur asked as he analyzed the woman's every movement. "I'm sure I'd be given plenty of nice things in return for you."
"Please don't kill m-me! I-if you shall have m-me, then I am yours, lord! I'll do anything you ask! I swear it!" The woman cried.
Arthur chuckled. "Aunty, you're very pretty, but I'd have to be a fool to bed a woman who has both the means and the will to kill me."
The woman's sobs suddenly stopped as she lifted her head and looked at Arthur with dry eyes and a pleasant, business-like smile. "I'm rather fond of life, and I'm not so ready to part with it. So tell me, what is it you want from me? If it can save my life, then it's yours."
"See, Aunty? I said it before, why go through all the trouble?" Arthur laughed and reached over to the end table, grabbing a quill, inkwell, and some book from within its drawer.
"Wait!" The woman's face flushed red as Arthur opened the book. "Please don't look inside that!"
Arthur froze in place and looked up at the woman. "Why?"
"I-it's my personal diary." The woman replied with a face full of shame.
Arthur's jaw went slack before recovering and tearing out a page from the back of the book. "Aunty, I know I'm a cute little boy, but make no mistake, I have no qualms about killing you. Surely your mind should remain wholly focused on the task at hand, no?"
"I-I understand." The woman replied sheepishly.
Arthur shook his head before dipping the quill into its inkwell and scribbling on the torn page. Once the ink dried, Arthur held up the page and pointed to it. "What do these Aetherin characters represent."
The woman squinted her eyes but appeared unable to see at such a distance, so Arthur stood up and brought it closer.
"The first one is the character representing 'to rise up' specifically used for projectile-based spells, the second 'hot air', and the third is a trick. It hasn't been deciphered yet." The woman declared confidently before her head suddenly tilted. "Wait... How do you know these characters?"
"Congratulations, you've earned your life!" Arthur cheered, ignoring her question.
Foster glanced back in shock. "Young master, is that wise? She's a sixth circle mage."
"Nothing a marinite collar can't fix," Arthur replied before peeking out and ordering Saria to fetch one.
"Still, is it not dangerous to have her sleeping next to Lady Senna and yourself, lord?" Jeren asked.
Arthur laughed. "You two think too little of me. I have no intention of sleeping in the same tent as her. She'll be staying with you, and if she causes any trouble or fails to perform what I require of her, she'll be killed or handed over to the capital."
"Um, lord." The woman muttered. "If I might ask, what sort of task am I to perform?"
"You'll be working on creating spells that I lack the time to work on. By the way, what's your name? Your real name, please. Title included."
Excitement filled the woman's face as she proudly announced herself. "I am Countess Arianna Puck of Bern."