Chapter 119: Chapter 112: The Wolves of Valcriox

Snowstorms raged across the fortress-city of House Valcriox beneath dark skies.

Black mourning banners hung beneath ancient wolf crests while freezing mountain winds swept through the colossal citadel like funeral whispers.

The fortress no longer felt alive.

Normally the estate overflowed with activity.

Knight companies trained from dawn until midnight. War beasts roared from iron stables. Servants rushed endlessly through marble halls carrying reports and orders.

But tonight—

The training grounds stood abandoned beneath layers of snow. The knight barracks remained silent. Even the servants lowered their voices instinctively.

Because everyone inside the fortress knew.

Kassian Valcriox was dead.

The coalition army had collapsed.

And with it—

The future the elders of House Valcriox had spent years constructing through political maneuvering.

Deep inside the central fortress keep, the ancestral hall burned beneath hundreds of black candles.

Massive statues of past dukes watched silently from elevated alcoves while ancient battle banners hung draped in mourning cloth.

At the center of the hall rested a massive obsidian war table covered in battlefield reports, shattered maps, and casualty estimates.

And seated at the head of it—

Was Duke Octavian Valcriox.

The ruler of House Valcriox had not spoken for several minutes.

That frightened everyone in the chamber more than rage would have.

Octavian was not a man known for emotional outbursts.

His authority came from something colder.

The duke’s silver-gray eyes moved slowly across the battlefield reports while every noble and commander around him struggled to suppress fury.

Only Lord Mathis truly noticed the truth.

The duke looked exhausted.

Around the chamber sat the surviving senior members of House Valcriox.

Family elders. Knight captains. Military commanders. Political advisors.

And among them—

Darius Valcriox.

Younger brother of the duke.

Unlike Octavian—

Darius looked openly furious.

A shattered metal goblet still lay near his chair from earlier when the battlefield reports first arrived.

Before the war table knelt a surviving battlefield officer.

Burn scars covered half his armor from artillery bombardment.

Even now—

His hands shook slightly while holding the reports.

Finally Duke Octavian spoke.

"Continue."

The officer visibly swallowed.

Then resumed recounting the battle.

"The coalition assault initially advanced according to plan."

"The outer trench sectors sustained pressure from mana cavalry and heavy infantry formations."

The officer hesitated briefly.

"However... Elarion defensive coordination remained extremely disciplined."

An elder scoffed coldly.

"Disciplined?"

The officer lowered his head further.

"Yes, lord."

Another battlefield sketch unfolded across the table.

"The rifle volleys disrupted cavalry momentum while artillery continuously fragmented concentrated assault formations."

One knight commander muttered darkly:

"So the reports are true."

The officer nodded slowly.

"Yes."

The hall immediately went silent.

Because nobody truly wanted the reports to be true.

Then came the landships.

Several nobles visibly stiffened immediately.

"They appeared during the final assault phase."

The officer’s breathing became uneven remembering the battlefield.

"Steel armored." "Massive." "And armed with continuous-fire weapons."

One older commander immediately snapped:

"No weapon fires continuously,even after countless attempts by best blacksmiths and mages."

The battlefield survivor slowly raised hollow eyes.

"My lord..."

His voice sounded strained.

"...I watched entire cavalry formations disappear."

Silence returned instantly.

Another surviving officer stepped forward shakily.

"The sound never stopped."

Then quietly—

Almost unconsciously—

The man whispered it.

RATATATATATATATATATAT.

Several people physically flinched.

Even remembering the sound unsettled the survivors.

The reports continued.

Mana cavalry destroyed. Elite knight detachments shattered. Grand Knight Aldric killed.

And with every detail—

The atmosphere inside the ancestral hall became darker.

Then came the artillery bombardment.

The officer lowered his voice instinctively.

"They redirected artillery toward coalition rear command sectors."

Several nobles frowned.

"...Toward command?"

"Yes."

The officer swallowed hard.

"They targeted the nobles directly."

No one spoke afterward.

The silence felt suffocating.

Another battlefield survivor continued quietly.

"Supply camps ignited." "Messenger lines collapsed." "Retreat coordination disappeared."

His hands visibly trembled.

"The command structure disintegrated almost instantly."

An elder noble suddenly slammed both fists onto the obsidian table.

"That northern bastard..."

Mana pressure burst outward violently enough to shake nearby candle flames.

"He butchered them."

No one answered.

Because that was exactly what happened.

Then finally—

The officer spoke Kassian’s name.

"The appointed heir remained near the command ridge attempting to reorganize retreat formations."

Several knights lowered their eyes briefly.

That sounded exactly like Kassian.

Too proud to retreat. Too stubborn to abandon soldiers.

The officer continued slowly.

"He continued issuing orders despite ongoing bombardment."

Then came the final sentence.

"A direct artillery strike destroyed the ridge."

Snowstorm winds echoed faintly beyond the fortress walls while black mourning banners shifted against the night sky.

And for several long moments—

No one inside the chamber moved.

Finally another elder spoke quietly.

More dangerous than shouting.

"...Lucien."

The name itself felt poisonous inside the room.

One elder suddenly snarled:

"He should have died years ago."

Another immediately added:

"This disaster began when weakness entered the succession."

Several elders nodded grimly.

Then—

Duke Octavian finally moved.

Only slightly.

Yet enough for the entire chamber to fall silent instantly.

The duke slowly raised his eyes.

Cold silver met the assembled nobles.

"Weakness?"

The single word came quietly.

But several elders visibly stiffened.

Octavian’s voice remained calm.

"Lucien survived exile." "Built Elarion from almost nothing." "Created weapons capable of reshaping warfare." "And destroyed a coalition army several times larger than his own."

His gaze hardened slightly.

"If this is weakness then we would have been better off being weak."

No one answered.

Because nobody in the room could deny reality anymore.

Years ago—

After the death of Lucien’s mother—

Everything inside House Valcriox changed.

Political factions formed. The elders grew fearful. Succession disputes spread quietly through the estate.

And eventually—

Kassian rose as the politically acceptable successor candidate.

Not because Octavian truly chose him over Lucien.

But because the elders maneuvered relentlessly until the balance shifted.

One older elder finally muttered carefully:

"The boy had become difficult."

The chamber became colder instantly.

Because everyone knew "the boy" meant Lucien.

For the first time that night—

Emotion flickered visibly across Duke Octavian’s face.

Pain.

Gone almost instantly.

But Lord Mathis an older strategist of the house noticed.

The duke finally spoke quietly.

"Lucien’s mother died poisoned."

The room froze.

Several younger commanders looked shocked.

The matter had never been openly discussed inside formal meetings before.

Octavian’s voice remained calm.

"Three physicians died afterward." "Two servants disappeared." "And every investigation trail ended abruptly."

Silence filled the chamber.

Because everyone now understood something horrifying.

The duke had never believed his wife’s death was natural.

Darius frowned deeply.

"Brother..."

But Octavian continued speaking.

"I sent Lucien away because this estate had already become dangerous."

That sentence stunned half the room.

Several elders visibly paled.

One elder protested nervously:

"My lord, surely you do not imply—"

"I imply nothing."

Octavian interrupted coldly.

"But shortly after my wife died... political factions suddenly pushed aggressively to remove Lucien from succession."

The silence afterward became crushing.

Lord Mathis slowly closed his eyes.

Finally understanding everything.

Lucien had not truly been abandoned.

Octavian had sent him away to keep him alive.

And while the world viewed it as exile—

The duke allowed the misunderstanding to continue.

One elder spoke carefully:

"Kassian still served the house loyally."

Octavian nodded once.

"Yes."

His voice carried genuine sincerity now.

"This was never Kassian’s fault."

That sentence stunned several nobles.

Because despite everything—

The duke did not blame Kassian.

Kassian himself had not created the succession conflict.

He merely inherited it.

Then suddenly—

Something changed in Octavian’s expression.

The cold control cracked for just a moment.

His hand tightened slowly against the obsidian armrest.

And when he spoke again—

His voice became colder than anyone in the chamber had ever heard before.

"If I ever discover who poisoned my wife..."

The room froze instantly.

Even Darius slowly looked toward him.

Octavian’s silver eyes sharpened with terrifying hatred.

"...I will give them a death so terrible..."

Mana pressure slowly began leaking into the chamber.

Candles flickered violently.

Several weaker nobles visibly paled.

"...that even death itself would fear it."

A terrifying silence returned to hall.

Because for the first time in years—

The ruler of House Valcriox sounded genuinely monstrous.

Then suddenly—

The pressure disappeared.

Just like that.

Octavian leaned back again.

Calm returning to his face.

But now everyone in the room understood something terrifying.

The duke had never forgotten.

Not even once.

Darius finally spoke quietly.

"...You still care about Lucien."

The chamber became dangerously silent again.

No one had ever dared saying that openly before.

Octavian did not answer immediately.

Instead—

He slowly looked toward the snowstorm beyond the fortress windows.

For several moments only winter winds could be heard.

Then finally—

The duke spoke.

"He is my son."

The chamber froze harder than before.

Because for the first time in years—

Duke Octavian openly acknowledged emotional attachment toward Lucien.

But the warmth vanished quickly afterward.

The duke’s expression hardened once more.

"And now he commands enough power to shake the kingdom itself."

Then another messenger entered hurriedly into the hall.

The man knelt immediately.

"My lord... reports from the capital."

Darius already looked irritated.

"What now?"

The messenger swallowed nervously.

"The royal court completed emergency deliberations regarding Elarion."

Octavian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"And?"

The messenger hesitated briefly.

Then answered.

"...His Majesty rejected immediate military retaliation."

The room became tense instantly.

But the next sentence was worse.

Actually far worse.

"The crown has formally invited Lucien of Elarion to the capital."

Then fury exploded across the chamber.

"The king invited him?"

"After Kassian dies?"

"This humiliates House Valcriox."

Several nobles stood outright from their seats.

One knight captain nearly overturned his chair.

Another messenger added shakily:

"Additional reports claim Crown Prince Cassian spoke favorably of Lucien during court discussion."

Now the chamber truly descended into outrage.

But Duke Octavian remained silent.

Watching,thinking And then gradually—

That silence became more terrifying than rage .

Finally the duke spoke quietly.

"The king fears what Lucien represents."

Lord Mathis narrowed his eyes.

"You believe so?"

Octavian nodded once.

"Not merely military power."

The duke’s fingers tapped lightly against the obsidian table.

"Change."

Silence followed.

Because deep down—

Everyone knew he was right.

Lucien was no longer merely a northern lord.

He had become something far more dangerous.

A military innovator. A political symbol. A victorious claimant.

Perhaps even the beginning of a new era.

Then suddenly—

Octavian’s gaze lowered toward Kassian’s folded war banner resting beneath funeral cloth.

And for the first time that night—

The duke looked genuinely pained as a father.

His voice came quietly.

"...All for nothing."

The room slowly fell silent.

"One son dead."

His eyes shifted northward instinctively.

"The other beyond my reach."

No one dared speak.

Because everyone now understood the full tragedy.

The elders. The politics. The succession struggle.

All of it had ultimately forced his sons onto opposite sides of a battlefield.

And now one was dead.

While the other stood stronger than ever.

Octavian slowly closed his eyes briefly.

Then finally said:

"This family made one son kill another..."

The words felt heavy enough to crush the chamber.

"...for a petty position."

Complete silence followed.

Several elders lowered their heads shamefully for the first time that night.

Even Darius looked unsettled.

The duke slowly turned away from the war table.

Black robes shifting behind him.

And suddenly—

He no longer looked like the terrifying ruler of House Valcriox.

He looked like a man exhausted by years of political poison inside his own house.

"This meeting is adjourned."

No one moved immediately.

Octavian walked toward the massive chamber doors without another word.

The funeral candles flickered softly while snowstorm winds echoed through the fortress beyond.

And for one brief moment—

The Duke of House Valcriox no longer looked like a feared ruler.

Only a father who had lost both sons.

One to death.

And the other to the consequences of his own house.

The massive doors slowly closed behind him.

Leaving the ancestral hall buried in silence.