Da-da-da!
The urgent sound of horse hooves echoed across the wasteland.
Within the swirling sands, a cavalry force of several dozen riders was racing at full speed.
“Commander!” A Scout, who had gone ahead, returned and reported to Theresa, “We’ve found traces of the Barbarians. They…”
There was a hint of grief and indignation on the cavalryman’s face. “They’ve already looted several villages nearby.”
“…”
Theresa’s face turned pale, her entire body swaying as if about to collapse. “It’s all my fault, it’s all because of me. If only I weren’t so useless, if I hadn’t failed to reorganize the fortress troops in time…”
“No, Your Highness, this isn’t your fault.”
At her side, Green nudged his horse closer, riding up next to Theresa and saying, “You’ve only been at the fortress for a few months. If blame must be placed, it lies with those corrupt officials who line their own pockets, and with the bigwigs in the imperial capital who know the truth yet, for reasons unknown, let the fortress deceive them. They are the true culprits.”
“Of course, at the root of it all is that person…” A faint, mocking smile appeared on Green’s face. “That foolish man who trusts in so-called magicians, slashes the military budget to fund grand projects, all in hopes of achieving Long Life.”
“Father.” Hearing this, Theresa looked downcast, recalling the argument they’d had in the imperial gardens. “Father wasn’t always like this.”
“People always change.”
Green said earnestly, “Besides, Your Highness, rather than regretting what’s already happened, it’s better to focus on building a brighter future—or to avenge those who’ve suffered.”
What Green said was a simple truth that anyone could understand, yet somehow, whenever Theresa looked at his handsome face, her mood would lift. The turmoil and frustration inside her would fade away with ease.
Is this the power of a bard?
She glanced surreptitiously at the Golden Harp hanging at Green’s waist, deep in thought.
“How many Barbarians are there?”
Refocusing her gaze on the Scout, Theresa gathered herself and asked gravely.
“Reporting, Commander: over two hundred.” The Scout, who had been personally selected by Colonel Reyn and came from a military family, stood firm even during the worst days of corruption at the fortress, earning a reputation as “absolutely reliable,” and now reported respectfully.
“Looks like the Barbarians are keeping to their word.” Theresa’s gaze was deep. “The only question is, can our ambush really capture their king in one fell swoop?”
Shua!
Carrying this worry, Theresa led her squad of volunteers, riding at a steady pace toward the negotiation site.
Within the small grove where they’d agreed to meet, a Bone Throne crafted from human skulls was set in the very center. Dozens of tall, muscular Barbarian Warriors armed with crystal-energy rifles stood all around, forming a tight guard behind the Barbarian chief.
“So that’s the Supreme King of the Barbarians?”
Theresa carefully studied the figure who, in a short time, had united dozens of tribes outside the borders and had even held his own against the northern Beastmen in several clashes—the Supreme King.
The Barbarian King wore a gleaming golden crown, stood over two meters tall, his muscular upper body entirely bare and covered in intricate, menacing totems.
“You’re late.” The Barbarian King opened his mouth, and his thunderous voice echoed across the sky, sending a chill through all present. A few of the more timid volunteers nearly fell from their horses.
“King of the Barbarians.” Theresa lifted her head, her eyes quietly sweeping over several scantily clad women standing behind the king, shivering in the wind, their hands shackled. A trace of disgust flickered in her eyes.
“We’ve brought what you asked for.”
Pa.
Theresa clapped lightly. Behind her, a few cavalrymen carried several heavy Boxes to the ground.
Ka-cha.
A soldier opened a Box, and the golden glow of coins caught the Barbarians’ eyes.
“Whew…” Seeing the pure gold, several Barbarian Warriors stared wide-eyed at the coins, their breathing growing rapid.
Though their culture lagged behind, for the Barbarians, these coins—which could be traded with neighboring countries for vast resources—were almost more magical than sorcery itself.
“Hahaha, Lord of the Fortress, you truly keep your word.”
The Barbarian King swaggered up to the Box, grabbed a handful of coins, and bit down hard.
“Hey, you even managed to offer up ten times more than in previous years.”
The king turned slowly, calling to another warrior draped in beast pelts, whose features resembled his own, “Hey, Chris, come here to your king.”
Thud, thud, thud.
The powerfully built Barbarian Warrior named Chris strode up beside the Supreme King, iron hammer in hand. Unlike the other Barbarians, his eyes weren’t fixed on the gold in the Box; instead, he was locked on Theresa, his gaze occasionally flashing with admiration.
“This is my son, Chris.”
For some reason, the Supreme King of the Barbarians didn’t seem in a hurry to complete the transaction. Instead, he patted his son on the back and began to introduce him: “He is the future heir of our Free Kingdom.”
Free Kingdom?
A kingdom of Free People?
Free People was what the Barbarians called themselves, believing they were favored by ancestral spirits and nature itself, distinguishing themselves from the crafty and cowardly City-dwellers who only dared to hide behind city walls.
“?” Theresa blinked in confusion, then quietly said, “Oh, hello?”
Trying to stall for time until Colonel Reyn and the ambush force were ready, Theresa decided to play along and greeted Chris indifferently, “Prince Chris?”
Her tone was flat, even a bit perfunctory, yet that silvery, bell-like voice still struck Chris to the core.
Where, outside the border, could there be such a beautiful and refined woman?
That supple figure, charming voice, bright eyes, delicate features—
This woman is mine!
Chris’s heart surged with passion; to him, this princess was the perfect wife.
Her noble aura and heroic bearing while riding fit exactly what he imagined the consort of the Free Kingdom’s heir should be.
“My son is an outstanding man.”
Seemingly unaware of the deep disgust Theresa tried to hide, the Supreme King continued to boast proudly, “Not to brag, but at only seventeen, he slew a sixth-rank magical beast, and has repeatedly won the Champion of the Blood Sacrifice in our tribe.”
Blood Sacrifice…
This was the savage custom of the Barbarians, who worshipped the Beast God of the hunt.
Warriors of age from every tribe would gather and fight each other in dense forests. The victor would sever the heads of the defeated as an offering to the gods, seeking their blessing.
It was said that, in the distant wilds, the Chiefs of each tribe were the last men standing.
“You flatter me, Father.” Chris lifted his chin in pride, swinging his Iron Hammer down with a flourish.
Among the Free People, valor was the only measure of a person’s worth.
Having bested all challengers, Chris naturally believed he deserved the finest woman.
“Well, that is impressive indeed.” Theresa narrowed her eyes, maintaining a calm expression as she chatted idly with the Supreme King, all the while watching for Colonel Reyn’s signal.
“So, dear lord of the fortress, Princess of the City-dwellers, do you think my unworthy son is good enough for you?”
“Ah?”
The Supreme King’s sudden question caught Theresa off guard. She opened her mouth in surprise, blinking as she wondered if she’d misheard.
“What’s wrong?” Seeing that Theresa hadn’t answered, the king’s expression darkened. “Don’t your City-dwellers always talk about allying with us Free People? Isn’t it a reasonable request to have you represent the City-dwellers by becoming my son’s bride, thus sealing the alliance?”
Glancing at Chris’s bloodstained hands, Theresa struggled to suppress her revulsion.
Why is Colonel Reyn so slow…
The signal, where is it?
“What’s wrong, Princess? Are you waiting for those rats hiding in the shadows?”
What?!
Theresa’s expression changed dramatically.
They’d discovered Colonel Reyn’s ambush?
But how could mere Barbarians see through the Imperial Army’s top-grade Magitech Barrier, capable of blending its users seamlessly into their surroundings?!
“Hmph, you City-dwellers truly lack sincerity.”
The Supreme King spread his hands, revealing a pale purple crystal stone tightly held in his grasp.
Not good!!
“Chris?” The king looked at his burly heir.
Bang!
Chris picked up his Iron Hammer and smashed it down on the other Boxes.
Puchi…
Inside the shattered Boxes, instead of more golden coins, there was nothing but worthless rocks.
“Lying dogs.” Though he cursed, Chris’s face showed not a trace of anger. Instead, he grinned at Theresa. “Still, even though your scheme has been exposed, cunning City-dwellers, if you hand over the Princess, we can still complete the alliance.”
“Don’t even think about it!”
Zzzzt!
Seeing that things had gone wrong, there was no time to encircle the king and his entourage. Colonel Reyn hurriedly dropped the Magitech Barrier and led his men in a charge at the Barbarians.
“Reyn!!!” Seeing the wretched man who’d scarred her face, Chris flew into a rage and ordered his men, “Kill him!”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The other Barbarian Warriors immediately drew their weapons and joined the fray.
In an instant, the forest was filled with the unending roar of crystal-energy guns.
“Heh, just a futile struggle.” The Supreme King of the Barbarians watched Theresa with a relaxed, smug air, taking out another crystal. “Princess, did you think you were the hunter, and we the prey?”
“Don’t you know, the cleverest hunter always appears as the prey?”
“That’s—!!!” Theresa’s eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at the crystal in his hand.
A Magitech Barrier—far more advanced than the outdated models used by the border guards.
But this cutting-edge technology was even more confidential than the crystal-energy guns. Each one was numbered and kept under lock and key in the Imperial Armory, only accessible by Inner Cabinet Ministers, Marshals, or even the Emperor himself with a personal authorization…
No matter how corrupt the Empire was inside, these could never be sold off!
In other words…
“Elder brother?!”
Theresa’s mind conjured the image of that man who colluded with the female magician and conspired to strip her of her succession rights.
“Oh, you’re quick-witted, Princess.” Prince Chris nodded in satisfaction. “You’re definitely fit to be my wife.”
Ooooooo—
With that, the Barbarian Prince no longer held back. He seized the horn and blew it hard.
“Kill! Kill! Kill!”
The forest erupted with thunderous war cries; the whole woods seemed to tremble, and countless crows flew from the treetops.
True to the name of top-tier magitech, the Empire’s ultimate trump card—over ten thousand Barbarians had managed to completely evade border surveillance and had already lain in ambush, undetected, at the negotiation site.
“How could this be, it’s all my fault, all because of me….”
Theresa’s mind went blank.
If it weren’t for my status as a Princess, my brother never would have given the Empire’s trump cards to the Barbarians, Green’s plan wouldn’t have failed, and everyone wouldn’t be trapped in this fatal predicament.
“I’ve doomed everyone…”
“Hehe, don’t be nervous, Princess Theresa. As long as you marry me, I promise I’ll spare the others’ lives.”
Chris smiled cheerfully at Theresa. “Just consider your friends as wedding slaves, Princess?”
At that moment, a voice interrupted Chris’s smug fantasy.
“Well now, Prince.” A figure stepped between Theresa and the Barbarians.
“Mr. Green?” Theresa said anxiously, “I’m sorry, it’s all because of me. But even if you are a legendary hero, facing an army of ten thousand professionals…”
“Who the hell are you, pretty boy?” Seeing the concern in Theresa’s eyes, Chris felt a surge of anger as he glared at the man with the harp, who looked for all the world like a useless dandy.
“I’m a bard,” Green replied politely, then turned to reassure Theresa, “Also, Princess, for a bard, weaving an epic that turns the impossible into possible is only natural.”
Besides, who says my plan has failed?
From the beginning, I never intended to capture the Barbarian King in an ambush—I wanted to test just how deep the waters run in this business of ‘appointing Theresa as fortress commander.’
Well, now I have my answer.
The Imperial First Prince, is it?
I’ll have to hold on to this evidence.
Gazing at the Barrier crystal in the Barbarian’s hand, Green’s eyes sparkled.