Chapter 312: Ch 312: Prepare for War – Part 1

Kyle sat quietly on the couch while Melissa lay on the bed, her cheeks slightly flushed from the wine. She looked up at him with wide, glassy eyes and asked softly.

“Young master… do you love me?”

He blinked, not expecting the question. His gaze fell away, fingers tightening slightly on the cup in his hand.

“You’re drunk, Melissa. Go to sleep.”

He muttered.

But she didn’t let up.

“That’s not an answer. You care for me… I know that much. But do you love me?”

She said, stubborn as always.

He sighed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

“Melissa… I do care for you. Deeply. You’ve followed me through thick and thin, trusted me even when others didn’t. But… whether that care will ever become love…I don’t know. I don’t want to lie to you. Only time will tell. We’ve had this conversation before. I don’t like to repeat them.”

He paused.

Melissa seemed disappointed, but she nodded.

“I know. But it is difficult to wait.”

She murmured before her eyes fluttered shut and she fell asleep mid-sentence.

Kyle caught her gently as she slumped forward, cradling her with practiced ease. With a tired sigh, he carried her to the bed and laid her down carefully.

She looked so peaceful now. Sitting on the other side of the bed, he rested his back against the headboard, watching her sleep for a moment before closing his eyes.

Morning came too quickly.

The door slammed open without warning and a maid entered cheerfully—until she spotted the sight before her.

Melissa was still in the bed, curled up on one side, while Kyle sat up, clearly having spent the night there.

The tray clattered in her hands as she squeaked.

“I-I saw nothing!”

And turned on her heels, face beet red as she ran out.

Kyle groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

“Of course. Another rumor.”

He muttered to himself.

He considered chasing after the maid to explain, but quickly dismissed the idea. Knowing how these people worked, any denial would just make things worse.

He took his time freshening up, washed away the fatigue and threw on a fresh outfit. By the time he made his way to the breakfast hall, Duke Armstrong, Nigel, and Emelia were already seated.

The moment Kyle stepped inside, silence briefly fell. Heads turned, but no one dared say a word. Even Emelia looked up at him with a flicker of amusement, and Nigel raised an eyebrow as if he was dying to say something but holding it back.

Kyle sat and ate silently, ignoring the atmosphere.

He stood up as soon as his plate was cleared, but the Duke’s voice caught him.

“If you’re going to have your fun, at least make sure rumors don’t fly all over the estate.”

Kyle paused, glancing at his father. The Duke’s voice was calm, almost amused, but there was a hint of reprimand too.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Kyle replied evenly.

“I didn’t say you did. But the halls are long and mouths are fast.”

The Duke said with a smirk.

Nigel coughed to hide a chuckle.

“You might want to close your doors next time, brother.”

Kyle gave them both a deadpan look, then sighed as he turned away.

“Noted.”

He left the hall without another word, knowing that trying to explain himself would only fan the flames.

Behind him, he could hear Emelia giggle under her breath and Nigel mutter something about the mess being “unavoidable.”

Kyle only hoped Melissa wouldn’t remember any of this.

______

The wind was crisp when Kyle and Melissa finally returned to their territory. The familiar sight of the settlement greeted them—simple homes, watchtowers standing tall, and villagers working the fields with focused determination.

As their carriage rolled in, Bruce was already waiting near the gates, arms crossed and a relieved smile tugging at his lips.

“Welcome back, young master. Everything here is in order. The people have been waiting for your return.”

Bruce greeted, stepping forward and bowing slightly.

Kyle gave him a nod and stepped down.

“Good. Anything else I should know?”

Bruce’s expression turned grim as he pulled out a sealed envelope.

“A letter arrived for you, from the Grand Duchess.”

Kyle took the letter and opened it without delay. His eyes scanned the contents swiftly, and he let out a tired sigh, already knowing what the message would entail.

He folded the letter neatly and tucked it into his coat before turning to look at Bruce and Melissa.

“It’s time. The Grand Duchess has given the signal. War is finally upon us.”

Kyle said, his voice heavy with resolve.

Melissa stiffened at his side, but her face remained composed. She had been expecting this. They all had.

Kyle stepped into the manor and made his way to his chambers.

Without another word, he walked straight to the corner where his sword stood, waiting—untouched since their last battle. He grasped the hilt and pulled it free from its sheath with a soft ring.

Bruce followed him in and asked.

“What are your orders, young master?”

Kyle turned, eyes steely.

“Gather all our forces. Every soldier, every trained fighter. Tell them to report to the training grounds by dusk. It’s time to see what they’ve learned these past few months.”

“And the village?”

Bruce asked.

Kyle looked out the window, his gaze sweeping across the homes and people going about their day with blissful ignorance of the storm on the horizon.

“Those who are not selected for the battlefield will stay. They will guard the village. Our enemies won’t just be on the frontlines. We must be prepared for anything.”

Kyle replied.

Bruce nodded and left the room immediately to carry out the order.

By dusk, the training grounds were full. Dozens of soldiers stood in formation, eyes fixed forward, posture sharp.

Kyle stood in front of them, sword in hand, as Bruce and Melissa stood behind him.

“You’ve trained hard. Each of you was handpicked, tested, and trained to survive. But training and battle are not the same. War is chaos. War is cruelty. I will not take anyone with me unless I know they can survive it.”

Kyle began, his voice cutting through the air.

He walked past them, inspecting.

“Tonight, we test one last time. Those who pass will join me on the battlefield. The rest—your duty is no less important. You will protect this land. This village. These people. Fail, and this place we’ve built will fall.”

A ripple of determination passed through the crowd.

Kyle raised his blade.

“Begin.”

The tests began. Duels. Tactical demonstrations. Endurance exercises.

The air echoed with the clash of weapons, the barked orders of Bruce, and the occasional correction from Melissa as she walked among the recruits like a hawk.

Hours passed. Sweat and blood mingled in the dust as the fighters gave it their all, pushing past limits, determined to follow their master to the end.

When it was finally over, Kyle stood before the chosen few—just under thirty men and women.

“You will follow me to war. I expect loyalty, discipline, and the will to fight until the very end.”

He said, eyes hard.

They saluted him in unison.

Kyle turned to the rest.

“You—your duty begins now. The safety of this village, of these people… lies in your hands.”

They, too, saluted with grim expressions.

As the crowd dispersed, Kyle stood at the center of the grounds, looking up at the darkening sky. War loomed closer now—an ever-present storm inching toward their land.

He had prepared for this moment, trained for it, bled for it. And now… it was time to walk into the fire.