Under the Oak Tree-Chapter 312 - 73

Chapter 312: Chapter 73

Riftan was certain that the church had been preparing for this war for some time. The question was, since when? He recalled how, after the great war three years ago, the Temple Knights had remained in the north to pursue the scattered monster army.

Had they known about the existence of rhe dark mages or the monster city all along? Had they hidden this truth all for the sake of preserving what influence they had left? The Reformed Church would undoubtedly come under fire if that were rhe case.

After the monster invasion, many in the ravaged northern regions had turned to the Orthodox Church. The resulting weakening of the Reformed Church’s power would have alarmed the pope greatly. The thought had no sooner formed in Riftan s mind than he realized he was jumping to conclusions. He furrowed his brow. He had yer to find any substantial evidence to prove his suspicions.

Impatiently sweeping back the strands pricking his eyes, he turned to Sejuleu. “How long will it take to assemble an army?”

Sejuleu popped a dried plum into his mouth, appearing deep in thought. It’s hard to say. It all depends on how firmly the new pope takes the helm. Still, we should have an army before the season ends/

Elliot, who had so far remained silent, shifted in his tub. ‘”Should we send word to Sir Ursuline?”

Riftan shook his head. “We cannot leave Anatol unmanned. King Reuben will likely send an army, so 1 see no need for us to gather additional men.”

“I concur,” Hebaron said, his voice booming over the tubs. “We don’t need that fellow. Our assault unit can do the job just fine without him.’

Ulyseon snorted, his cheek bulging from the food he had stuffed in his mouth.

‘How can you be so confident?” The lad gulped and swiped his lips with a towel. “If you recall, you almost Jost your arm in the last war. If it weren’t for her ladyship, you would be a ghoul by now, Sir Hebaron.’

Hebaron’s face twisted into an angry scowl. “You runt! How long are you going to keep bringing that up?”

“Sir Ursuline has commanded me to speak of it as often as possible.”

“That bloody b—”

”Quiet,” Riftan muttered in a warning tone.

Hebaron promptly closed his mouth. Ulyseon’s expression grew troubled as if worried he had committed a terrible mistake.

Ignoring his men’s reactions, Riftan scooped bathwater onto his face, scrubbing irritably. It still made his bJood run cold whenever he thought back to the surprise attack on Eth Lene Castle. He grabbed the long cloth he had hung on the wall and rose from the tub.

“I’m going to rest nowT. Let us leave talk of the undead spawning to tomorrow.’

“As you wish,” Sejuleu murmured.

Riftan wrapped the cloth around his waist and made his way to the chamber connected to the sauna. The servants working the bellows rushed over to attend to him. He irritably waved a hand to dismiss them, walking to the long table in front of the fireplace where neat piles of linen and clean clothes had been laid out.

“Do you have anything that would fir me?”

“His lordship has prepared some.”

No sooner had lie asked than the servants brought him a clean set of clothes. They consisted of black satin trousers and a blue velvet shirt with elaborately embroidered trim mi ng. Frowning at Sejuleu’s extravagant taste f Riftan threw on the outfit, followed by his newly polished boots. Out in the long, illuminated corridor, the cold air enveloped his face. As he started down it, he realized he had spent more time in the sauna than he had thought, There were barely any servants walking about.

When he reached the hall, an aged maidservant was waiting to show him to his room.

At the door to the guest room on the third floor, the maidservant said politely, “Please ring the bell next to the bed should you need anything, my lord.’1

Riftan did not reply, merely waving a hand to dismiss her. The maidservant descended the stairs, leaving him alone. He stepped into the room, throwing the towel he was holding onto the shelf and flopping into the chair before the fireplace. As he bent down to remove his boots, he spotted the bulky form beneath the blankets on his bed.

His eyes narrowed, irritation prickling through him. It was not the first time a maidservant had snuck in and crawled beneath the covers. He shot to his feet and marched over to the bed. When he yanked the blanket back, intending to drag the woman out, it was not the castle help he found. It was his wife, sleeping like a child with her arms around a pillow.

Rif tan froze. Whether consciously or not, they had been treating each other rather coldly after their argument. The last thing he had expected was for her to come to his room.

His eyes quickly swept down her slumbering form. She was curled on her side with her cheek buried in the pillow, the hem of her skirt bunched above her thigh. His tortured gaze traveled down as rhe light from the fire cast her fair skin with a golden hue. Her thin dress clung to her like liquid, giving him a clear view of her protruding nipples, the hollow outline of her navel, and the shadow between her thighs.

Fire surged through his veins. Like steel pulled to a magnet, his hand clamped onto her shoulder.

“Maxi…’1

Right at that moment, the stench of wine assaulted his nose. He paused, turning his head to look at the tray beside the bed. On it was a messy clutter of plates and an empty bottle. Picking up the near-empty vessel, he took a small sip. The strong liquor burned his lips. He gave a deep sigh.

”You drunkard…”

He lowered rhe bottle onto rhe table and rubbed his throbbing eyes. Was this woman trying to torture him? He restlessly tapped the tabletop with his finger, but it was not big enough a distraction to resist the urge to look at her. He turned his head to her again, knowing full well that he would only be tormenting himself further. Her breathtakingly beautiful form was all he could see.

Apart from her cheeIts, which were tinged pink, her skin glowed with a pearly sheen. The image of her whole body flushing as they made love came to mind. He let out a shaky breath. Other memories followed — her auburn hair spilling across the pillow, her curls covering his chest.

His manhood bulged and grew painfully rigid, and sweat pridded his back. He ran a hand down his face. The intense urge to enter her was such that his body almost convulsed when he tried to suppress it. In the end, he gave in and Jay down beside her.

Pulling her into his arms, he cupped her soft breast. She gave a sleepy mumble and burrowed into his embrace, Her warm breath on his neck sent a sharp pleasure digging into his stomach like a blade. He Jet out a low moan as he pressed his throbbing lower body against her stomach.

“Maxi…”

He rubbed her taut nipple, and a moan akin to a purr spilled from her lips. Despite this, she showed no sign of waking. He impatiently peppered her neck with kisses before burying his face in her hair and breathing in her scent. It had been so long. All this time, he had been restraining himself, and this situation alone felt enough to bring him to a climax.

A heartbeat later, an intense self-loathing washed over him. Here he was getting aroused over fondling a bone-weary woman. He stared at the ceiling to calm his breathing before focusing on her face again.

This time, he noticed her dark circles and her slightly sunken cheeks. Her current appearance overlapped with his memory of her grievous injuries in his mind’s eye. He suddenly felt doused with ice-cold water. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sat bolt upright in bed. He shifted to sit on the edge, scrubbing his face.

‘Goddammit…11

As he sat cursing himself, Maxi stirred at the cool draft that brushed past. Summoning all of his self-control, he pulled the blanket over her shoulder. Then, forcing himself up, he walked away to throw a log into the fire. He could feel the pent-up sexual energy as a vice grip on his muscles. He perched on the chair and breathed a tired sigh,

Outside, dozens of baggage wagons rolled through the castle gate, Maxi had been translating a passage of ancient text onto parchment. She walked over to a window and craned her neck out for a better view. Soldiers rushed to the wagons, and when they removed the leather hides covering the load, hundreds of spears and crossbows came spilling out.

Her heart sank. It had only been five days since they had arrived at Eth Lene Castle, but the knights were already preparing for war. They spent most of their time in the wTar room discussing strategy or overseeing drills at the training grounds. Meanwhile, the mages immersed themselves in deciphering the records left by the dark mages. Half of their findings were set to be sent to the Mage Tower at the earliest opportunity, but Maxi doubted that the Temple Knights would allow it without a fight.

‘Come look at this!’ Anette exclaimed, rushing into the room. She placed a stack of parchments on one of the desks. “This record recounts the history of the dark mages in detail.1

Maxi stopped searching for Remdragon Knight armor out the window and approached the desk.

Anette excitedly picked up one of the parchments. “See this? It tells of how they ended up settling in the Pamela Plateau.’

“There is a similar story here as well,11 Maxi said, pointing to the record she was translating.

Anette huffed and vigorously shook her head. “You idiot, this is completely different! It explains why they left the ruins and moved to the monster city.”

This seemed to catch the interest of some of the senior mages gathered around the desk opposite, deciphering runes. They stopped yanking at their hair and walked over to Anette.

‘What does it say?1‘ Geoffrey asked, his eyes twinkling with interest.

“There was apparently a rift among them. Between the Hid and CaHid Factions, which 1 assume are names. The two sides fought, forcing one to leave the ruins.”

‘That’s it? That’s barely anything,” Royald said, shrugging. “We already assumed as much. There was evidence of a battle all over the ruins, and some devices in rhe cave were for defense against magical attack.”

He arrogantly waggled his finger and added, “It likely means there was a violent extremist among the dark mages.”

“You weren’t even the one who uncovered it,” Miriam said coldly from her perch on rhe window sill. “Stop acting so smug. It was all Master Anton and Master Elena.”

“It’s nothing but speculation so far, but we may learn the details if we translate this record,’1 Anette remarked, remaining confident in her discovery.

Maxi’s reaction was tepid. “Our priority… should be to come up with strategies to attack rhe monster base. Shouldn’t we concentrate on figuring out how the monsters are controlling the wyverns first?’1

“The mages of Urd are working hard to make sense of that rune as we speak. It’s a task beyond our capabilities anyway,” Anette retorted flatly. Then she arched a brow. “Have you decided to participate in the war?”

“I intend to discuss it with my husband… when he is not so busy,” Maxi grumbled as she pulled back a chair for herself.

Sidina, who had been dozing off on the desk, burst into giggles.

“Are you still upset over last night? All that effort sneaking in, and he made no attempt to touch you.’

“Oh, do shut up..’