The Exiled Lord: My Maid is a Battle Goddess-Chapter 99: An old friend I’ve never met

Passing through several checkpoints, Phield entered the heavily guarded interior of the fortress.

Someone immediately came forward to inform him that Regin wished to "catch up."

"Good morning, Baron Vigor Elixir... Baron Phield." Regin had intended to follow proper etiquette and use the title first, but noticing Phield’s displeased expression, he quickly corrected himself. "You’re late. Elsa and I have been waiting for quite some time."

Waiting for me? And who is Elsa?

Phield’s mind filled with question marks.

"My apologies, my lord. I ran into serious trouble on the way—something you may find hard to believe. I was attacked by a black dragon!" Phield spread his hands wide in the air to illustrate its size, shook his head slightly, then let out a long breath. "I nearly lost my chance to serve the Empire. Fortunately, my mount saved me—but the warhorse was devoured by the dragon."

"That’s terrible!"

Phield adopted a remorseful expression. Tears shimmered faintly in his eyes as he leaned forward, as if about to bow. "So... I arrived much later than agreed. I sincerely apologize."

"Oh! Praise the Goddess, you’re safe. You actually encountered that black dragon? I heard about it—but it was driven off last night by the Divine Chosen of the Nibelungen family. At least you won’t have to worry about it on your return."

Regin placed a hand on Phield’s shoulder and turned to an attendant. "Select a warhorse with monster blood from the stables for Baron Phield. The black one will do—the one mixed with Deathclaw blood. Excellent speed, powerful charge." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

So generous. A warhorse with monster bloodline—worth at least a thousand gold coins.

"Thank you for your generosity."

Phield couldn’t quite make sense of it. He didn’t understand why Regin was being so enthusiastic.

Then Regin looked him up and down with an almost drooling gaze, licking the corner of his lips in satisfaction.

What the hell is that look?

Phield instinctively took a step back. This man couldn’t possibly be into men, could he?

"Haha, Phield, do you remember Elsa?" Regin nudged his arm and gave him an exaggerated wink, grinning mischievously. "Here’s a hint—she’s my niece."

No memory at all. Even the original owner’s memories offered nothing.

Seeing Phield’s slightly awkward expression, Regin sighed regretfully. "Lady Elsa still remembers you. To disappoint a maiden’s heart is hardly knightly conduct."

Phield was speechless. "Forgive me, but perhaps you could stop speaking in riddles."

"Elsa Volga Nibelungen. One of the Count’s granddaughters. The family’s newest Divine Chosen. She was your childhood playmate. Don’t you remember? You used to trail after her everywhere. She called you ’Big Snot.’"

Damn it. Big Snot.

Though his mind remained blank, Phield put on a show. "Ah, yes. I remember now. The lovely and charming Lady Elsa."

"Good. I’ll take you to see her. She’s mentioned you quite a few times."

What is going on lately? There are too many women around me—and all of them Divine Chosen. Phield was genuinely at a loss.

Soon, he caught sight of Elsa, wearing the expression of someone "forced into social duty." Her breathtakingly beautiful face was clouded with gloom. She sat upright in a chair, holding a teacup with perfect poise, dressed in a black-and-blue silk gown.

"Do you see my niece? An elegant and beautiful noble lady. A true knight would never retreat from the battlefield of love." Regin shot Phield an encouraging look. "Your charm will absolutely do the trick!"

Phield found the enthusiasm suspicious. Since becoming a noble himself, he had gained a clearer understanding of nobility.

They almost never did anything without benefit—except perhaps the original host of this body.

Introduce a Divine Chosen to him? Impossible. He wasn’t some chosen prodigy who could kneel at a mere tremor.

"Who is her lord?" Phield asked cautiously.

"Uh, Elsa’s contractor is her second uncle. He isn’t here today."

Regin clearly hadn’t expected that question. Shouldn’t a young man be groveling at the sight of a Divine Chosen’s peerless beauty?

"Don’t overthink it. If she finds someone she truly favors, she can change contractors."

Divine Chosen naturally respected their lords while looking down on others. And yet Regin was encouraging him to pursue a contracted Divine Chosen. It made no sense.

Wait. Could this be some twisted noble scheme? Close-kin marriages weren’t uncommon, after all—blood purity and all that.

Have a child, then pass it off to someone else.

Like his own elder brother—sleeping around with his sister-in-law, mother-in-law, even grandmother-in-law. Kaor had told him that.

Phield laughed lightly, teasing, "Oh? They’re not getting married? I’d very much look forward to attending the wedding."

"To slander a lady is not knightly conduct. The contract was the family’s decision. Lady Elsa remains a pure maiden, with no romantic experience." Regin looked awkward but maintained a serious expression.

Phield shot him a dubious glance. How would you know she’s pure? Did you check personally?

"Oh? Even better. I adore spending time with beautiful ladies." Phield lifted his brows, feigning excitement, and walked toward Elsa with a faintly mocking smile.

Inwardly, he had already formed a guess about their little scheme.

Elsa was surrounded by seven or eight handsome, confident nobles. The proud men were telling painfully dull jokes in an attempt to amuse her.

"Why do soldiers always bring a chair to the battlefield? Because they want to sit on victory!"

"Hahaha, that’s hilarious."

"You’re so witty."

They flattered one another, though their eyes never strayed from Elsa’s stunning face.

Elsa forced a slight upward curl of her lips. Veins stood faintly on the back of her hand. If this weren’t a public setting, she would have twisted off every one of these buzzing flies’ heads.

"Greetings, Lady Elsa. Do you remember me?" Phield approached with a wave, adopting a syrupy noble tone that even he found revolting. "Phield of the Ross family. You are the brightest star here today."

"Of course I remember." Elsa rose gracefully, apologized to the surrounding men, and stepped out of the circle. She cast Phield a glance, hiding the disgust in her eyes. With her hands folded neatly before her, she said coolly, "Let’s go. It’s stifling here. Some fresh air would be nice."

Phield immediately felt dozens of unfriendly gazes stab into his back.

But it didn’t matter. Attempting to flirt with a contracted Divine Chosen—these handsome men were either incompetent fools ignorant of governance, or nobodies hoping to attach themselves to a greater power.

Phield’s goal was different. He intended to leverage her status for benefits.

At the very least, the Count’s granddaughter would never be sent charging into the front lines.

The two stepped outside the fortress.

Of course, outside the walls there was nothing pleasant—only the stench of soldiers, human waste, and blood.

Phield sighed nostalgically. "This smell almost makes me miss Nightfall Domain."

Nightfall Domain was poor and drafty, but at least you didn’t have to worry about stepping in excrement.

"I heard you defeated a third-tier Rat Demon?" Elsa kept a deliberate distance, not even turning her head as she spoke. "Very heroic."

"My knights and soldiers did the fighting. We were fortunate under the Goddess’s blessing."

Elsa seemed genuinely curious. "You truly survived in Nightfall Domain? It’s overrun with corpses. You should request a different territory."

As if I had a choice. Who would willingly pioneer wasteland?

Phield shrugged. "Just struggling to stay alive. If I can’t endure one day, I’ll return. I might even give up my noble title. To be honest, I’d rather be a bounty hunter." He laughed.

"No! That would be foolish—" Elsa caught herself. She had nearly snapped in irritation. Without a noble title, he would be nothing but a lowly servant—what would be the point of this conversation? She forced herself to rephrase. "I mean, having ideals is admirable. But abandoning your title would be unwise. I believe you’ll make a rational decision."

"It’s hard to persist. Look at my army. Forget knights—we barely have horses. Our weapons were worn down fighting the Corrupted."

"That’s not a problem. I can provide some horses and weapons. My family can offer assistance."

"I’d appreciate that. You’re an angel."

Phield nearly burst out laughing. His suspicions were confirmed—and he had even gained some benefits in the process.

Rubbing his chin, he reflected inwardly.

"It seems my useless father, Count Kote, is nearing the end. The Nibelungen family can’t wait to claim their share. Sigh... I haven’t even thought about the inheritance myself, yet others are already thinking about it for me. What an honor."

...

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