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Chapter 22 - Preparations

"You mean that literally?" Garren asked, his voice low.

Jonathan nodded, eyes narrowing. "Exactly as it sounds. With the way things are, civil war is no longer a question of if — only when."

Garren exhaled through his nose, looking up at his old teacher. "My father always said this day would come. One way or another."

A faint smile tugged at Jonathan's lips. "And how's the old man? Still as stubborn as ever?"

Garren chuckled. "Rowdy as ever. Even with one leg gone, he insists on working the farm himself. Every time I visit, it turns into a battle of words between him and Mother."

Jonathan let out a small laugh, his expression softening with a trace of nostalgia. "Some things never change." Then, with a shift in his tone, he asked, "And your new master? How's he treating you?"

Garren's smile curled slightly. "He's your typical moody teenager. Responsible, kind-hearted, but... let's just say unpredictable. Blew up an indoor training hall once, launched an explosive fireball at the guards, and finished off a half-dead man — twice. Small things."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, amused. "You and your sarcasm. Don't be too harsh on the boy — he's endured more than most."

Garren nodded, his voice steady. "That's exactly why I don't coddle him. He's strong-willed, sharp, and knows how to handle himself. He doesn't need my pity."

And in his mind, Garren added, At least for now… though that smug smile of his still drives me mad.

Garren, lost in thought, finally spoke. "Back to the civil war, Captain... How is it that not only you, but even my father, were always certain it was unavoidable?"

Jonathan's gaze drifted northward, where the distant Alabaster Mountain Range carved a jagged line across the horizon like a great wall separating two worlds.

"You've never been to the North, have you?" he said softly. "If you had, this question would never have crossed your mind."

He paused briefly, as if weighing his words, then continued."You see those mountains stretching endlessly? The Alabaster Range — it divides this entire continent almost perfectly into North and South. Nearly ninety percent of the kingdom's people live on the other side of those peaks, while only the Ignis Duchy remains on this side. The mountains don't just separate us geographically — they divide us in culture, language, even spirit. And for reasons that are hardly surprising, the kingdom favors northern customs and values."

His voice lowered slightly, taking on a weight of old grievances."Centuries ago, we were an independent nation — small, but sovereign. Back then, the North and South were constantly at odds over resources buried deep within the Alabaster mountains — iron, silver, precious stones. Eventually, we lost. The North annexed us and absorbed us into the kingdom."

Jonathan's jaw tightened as his eyes remained fixed on the distant peaks."But even now, after all these years, many in the North still do not see us as their own. If you ever visit, you'll feel it — the unspoken distance, the cold stares. To them, we're still outsiders clinging to old banners."

Garren followed his teacher's gaze, staring at the mountains as Jonathan continued.

"Both the Empire and the Kingdom — the two great powers — were born from the South. For generations, the Ignis family has preserved our culture, protected our people, and balanced diplomacy to survive within the kingdom's grasp. But to the crown, we've always been a thorn. And now King Arvax... he's simply the first monarch bold enough to finally act on that old resentment."

Garren frowned, his gaze still fixed on the mountains. "If that's the only reason… then why send his own daughter here? And then try to have her killed?"

Jonathan gave a slow shake of his head, exhaling softly."In politics, Garren, there is never only one reason. Every action carries layers—personal agendas, secret schemes, struggles for power we may never fully see. Kings, nobles… they play their own dangerous games." He paused, looking at his student with a steady gaze. "It's best not to dwell too much on it. We are knights, Garren. Our duty is simple — we serve our lords, and follow the path they set before us."

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in an lavish study , a young silver haired boy was sitting on a chair his legs rested atop table as he periodically filped its pagess , he was so ingroosed in the book that he did not notice knoks on the door ,

his concentration broke only when konks grew loud enough

"come in " his tone clearly annoy , his red eyes stll glued to the book 

a maid with short blond hair slowly opend the door as she said

"young master , investigation party has arrived "

jack still looking at the book said" keep an eye on them but let them do what they want just call for me if they go overbord , also tell garren to send few of his sharp men to keep them company "

maid left right after closing door behind leaving jack alone with his book

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The soft glow of the evening sun filtered through the silk curtains of Seraphine's chamber, casting long golden rays across the polished wooden floor. A gentle breeze stirred the lace, filling the room with the faint fragrance of blooming roses from the garden below. The atmosphere was calm, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Tracy stood by the small round table, hands clasped behind her back, while Seraphine sat near the window, gazing out at the horizon where the sun dipped behind the distant hills. After a long moment of silence, Tracy finally spoke, her voice low but steady.

"Your Highness, fresh reports have arrived."

Seraphine shifted her gaze towards Tracy, her expression unreadable. "Go on."

"Count Ironcrest, Count Caroline, and Viscount Goldhart have all begun mobilizing significant forces along the duchy's borders. Thousands of men are moving into position, and the pace of their preparations has increased in the past few days. It seems they are preparing for more than just a show of strength."

Seraphine exhaled quietly, as if she had expected the news. "And the Duke?"

Tracy nodded. "The Duke has responded swiftly. Recruitment across the duchy has surged. Supplies, weapons, and provisions are being stockpiled at every major fortress. The border outposts are being fortified, and trusted commanders have been dispatched to oversee each front. The duchy is preparing, Your Highness."

For a moment, Seraphine closed her eyes, as though gathering her thoughts, then opened them again, her gaze calm but sharp. "And the investigation team?"

Tracy's expression darkened slightly. "They arrived at Greenriver Castle this morning, but made no request to meet with you… nor with Lord Jack."

A faint smirk appeared on Seraphine's lips. "How very convenient."

Tracy hesitated, lowering her voice even further. "They've been conducting their inquiries only through the manor staff and guards. Jack has paid them no mind since their arrival. He carries on with his training and duties as though their presence is nothing more than a passing breeze."

Seraphine gave a small, approving nod. "That's wise of him."

Tracy stepped closer, her voice taking on a cautious tone. "Your Highness… though I have not seen the written report, it is not difficult to imagine its content. The investigation will find no fault with the royal family, nor with Count Caroline. Instead, I suspect the report will quietly place the blame on the duchy, hinting at either internal incompetence or perhaps even treachery."

Seraphine's eyes narrowed, but her voice remained even. "Of course. The king has long prepared this narrative."

She rose from her seat, walking slowly to the table where Tracy stood. Her fingers traced the rim of a delicate porcelain teacup as she spoke, her voice steady and cold.

"Let them write whatever they wish. The stage is already set. Now, it is only a matter of time."

Tracy lowered her gaze, her voice tinged with worry."Yes, Your Highness… but are you certain the duchy can win this war?"

Seraphine met her eyes with a faint smirk."The duchy will lose. It's only a matter of when."

Tracy's hands clenched, her voice barely above a whisper."Then why are we here, Your Highness? If the duchy falls, we fall with it."

Seraphine poured herself a cup of tea, her movements calm, almost detached."Because I have no intention of allowing them to claim their victory so easily. If the Duke can buy enough time… then the preparations I have made will leave His Majesty no choice but to step back."

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