The Exiled Lord: My Maid is a Battle Goddess-Chapter 104: From the Province of the Griffin

Early the next morning, Phield yawned, climbed off his camp bed, stepped out of the military tent, and drew in a deep breath of air thick with the stench of blood.

"You didn’t sleep well last night? Why do you look so tired?"

Perhaps because he had helped her yesterday, the dragon-blooded girl’s attitude had improved noticeably. She handed him a piece of freshly baked bread and pressed it into his hands.

"To be honest, I logged into my alt last night," Phield said solemnly. "In one go I smashed through a heavily guarded manor, defeated the resident knight, looted all night long, and even hauled away their city-defense ballistae. I never lie to my Divine Chosen. Even a temporary one."

"Tch. How boring." Arlya rolled her eyes. "A liar is still a liar. You never left your bed yesterday. Aside from giggling like an idiot at midnight, grinding your teeth in the second half of the night, and mumbling about wanting to touch beast-girl ears, you did absolutely nothing."

"You were watching me?" Phield’s pupils trembled slightly. He shrank back. "Don’t tell me you’re secretly lusting after me."

"Pfft. Get lost."

Arlya stormed off angrily and returned to the campfire to toast her own bread.

"Sigh. Sometimes the truth is what people refuse to believe." Phield rubbed his temples.

Knight Laurent came over early in the morning to greet him. "Good morning, Baron."

Phield immediately returned the smile. "Good morning."

"I heard some unpleasant news. It may be important to you." Laurent lowered his voice mysteriously, glancing around. "Felix—the one who had a run-in with you—is also in the Third Legion. He’s serving as a military adviser."

"Felix? He is..." The name sounded familiar, but Phield couldn’t place it at first.

"Elsa’s admirer. A wastrel from the imperial capital. Rumor says he’s the illegitimate son of some great noble."

Phield slapped his forehead. He remembered.

Wasn’t that the guy in Maple Leaf City who had mocked him to his face?

No wonder he harbored inexplicable hostility. Most likely he had heard about the Nibelungen family’s plan—to match him with Elsa.

"That is indeed a small nuisance." Phield nodded, then added in surprise, "He’s actually a military adviser? I didn’t expect him to be so capable."

Laurent gave a dry laugh. "Ability can never compete with noble blood. Besides, whether you’re capable or not is decided by what the great nobles say."

If they declare you capable, you become capable—even if you aren’t. If they say you’re incompetent, even true strength won’t save you.

Though he forced a laugh, Laurent’s face was bitter. He kicked two stones away with his boot to vent his frustration.

The governor commanding this rebellion suppression was mediocre at best—but that didn’t stop him from claiming the greatest credit.

"In any case, you’d best be careful."

"Thank you very much for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind." Phield gave him a grateful look.

Laurent scratched his head, then suddenly looked shy. His fingers rubbed together awkwardly, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

What the hell is that expression? Don’t tell me he’s into men? 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Phield instinctively took two steps back in alarm.

"Well... I was hoping that during battle, you might lend me some assistance. The peasant soldiers I brought have all run off. I’m left with only six knight retainers—and my wife, who is a mage. But for the honor and future of my family, I cannot be a coward."

Wiping imaginary sweat from his brow, Phield nodded. "That won’t be a problem."

Free cavalry and a mage? He couldn’t be happier.

"By order of the Governor! All members of the Allied Third Legion are to break camp and advance toward Howling Fortress!"

Having foiled the cultists’ attempt to scatter, the allied forces were launching a counteroffensive.

A mage used voice-transmission magic to relay the command. Amid the noisy chaos, nearby troops began packing in disorder, curses and shouted reprimands echoing through the camp.

"Nightfall Domain forces—move out!" Phield commanded.

With his order, Sam and the others began rolling up tents and loading supplies with steady precision.

The sight left Laurent deeply impressed.

"Maybe this time I really will earn military merit," he thought, secretly vowing to give his all.

"Is Sir Phield here?"

A pleasant voice rang out.

Turning toward the sound, they saw Elsa stepping gracefully down from her carriage.

"A beautiful day begins with seeing the lovely Miss Elsa." Phield shamelessly delivered a line so cheesy even he felt nauseated—though his eyes had already noticed the goods she brought.

"We meet again, boastful country baron. I hear you’ve devoted yourself to researching ways for ’men and women’ to enjoy themselves. Heh."

Before Elsa could respond, Felix hurriedly dismounted from his fine warhorse and stepped between them, deliberately blocking Phield’s view.

Phield frowned. This man was determined to oppose him.

Last time he hadn’t bothered with him. It must have been mistaken for weakness.

Calling the Ross family "country"—if this had been during the family’s peak, Felix would already have one foot in the grave.

Now, with this hostility—

He already had one foot in the grave.

"You’ve used it?" Phield asked instead, his priorities clearly elsewhere. The Vigor Elixir was selling far better than he’d imagined, spreading at astonishing speed. "How much did you sell it for?"

Seems selling it to Simon for forty silver coins had been underpricing it—even though that had exceeded expectations.

"No, of course I haven’t used it. Maybe you have to, since you can’t perform? That’s why you developed Vigor Elixir?"

"Hmm?"

Phield was genuinely offended.

He could solo a Divine Chosen and make a white-wolf demi-human purr—and this bastard dared imply he was impotent?

"If you had a wife, I could prove it to her personally." Phield’s expression turned teasing.

"Pfft—" Elsa nearly lost her composure.

"Pervert." The dragon-blooded girl couldn’t even look at him, wearing an expression that said she didn’t know this man.

Felix almost choked on air. "You bastard, what are you saying?!"

"Enough. We’re allies now. No need for pointless talk. Hiding behind others isn’t noble conduct. You should introduce yourself properly, noble from the big city."

"My name is Felix Gale, from the Province of the Griffin!" Felix declared proudly. Being from the imperial capital was indeed something to boast about—everyone there was either wealthy or powerful.

But "Gale" was a false surname. All illegitimate children from the Province of the Griffin bore it.

If their father acknowledged them, they would receive their true family name.

Phield raised a brow. "Title?"

"..." Felix froze.

An illegitimate son had no damn title.

His face flushed red, but he stiffened his neck and retorted, "After this campaign, Itavon Province will carve out the finest territory for my fief. Then I will hold a title."

No title. No fief.

Ah. So just a minor nobody.

Phield rolled his eyes. "Run along. I’m only interested in speaking with nobles, not commoners. Come back once you’ve earned your title."

He hadn’t expected the day would come when he’d use class to belittle someone.

Phield shook his head inwardly. He had truly fallen.

Countless people ruined themselves—even gave their lives—for a title. Perhaps just for moments like this.

His words immediately drew snickers from several nobles.

Felix burned with humiliation, hatred filling his eyes. He clenched his fists but said nothing.

"That Phield is finished. Felix holds grudges."

"This will be entertaining."

Several others from the capital whispered among themselves, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

"Alright, Mr. Felix," Elsa stepped in at the right moment, offering him a graceful exit. "I believe you’ll succeed. A capable man shines wherever he goes."

Her tone carried admiration and encouragement.

Felix’s expression softened at once. He turned to Elsa with adoration and gratitude.

"I will! I’ll become a pillar of the Empire—and then marry the woman I love."

Phield watched everything silently, nodding to himself.

The Nibelungen family’s diplomatic finesse was not to be underestimated.

Even a girl barely of age could effortlessly manipulate men.

They were clearly investing in forces from the Province of the Griffin—and doing so with remarkable ease.