CHAPTER 315: CH 315: A VISITOR - PART 1

While the banquet noise echoed behind him—laughter, clinking glasses, and hushed speculation about the earlier events—Kyle’s senses picked up the faintest shift in the mana currents above.

A small ripple, almost unnoticeable, but distinct enough for someone like him to catch.

His eyes flicked upward for a brief second before they settled on Bruce, who had also noticed the sudden tension in his young master’s shoulders.

Bruce didn’t ask. He knew better by now.

Instead, he stepped toward the crowd and clapped his hands, raising his voice to begin a dramatic tale from one of their past border skirmishes.

The nobles, ever hungry for gossip and stories, turned toward him with eager expressions. It gave Kyle the opening he needed.

Slipping out through the side corridor, Kyle entered the open courtyard.

His eyes scanned the night sky and, sure enough, a sleek, dark-feathered pigeon swooped down with deadly precision.

The seal of the Grand Duchess gleamed faintly under the moonlight.

Kyle caught the bird easily. With a practiced motion, he retrieved the message tied to its leg and unfurled it in a single movement. His eyes scanned the content quickly.

[Enemy movement detected. Sir Barton—Okla’s third commander—has been spotted in proximity to your village. Intentions unknown. Be alert.

—Grand Duchess]

Kyle’s jaw tightened. Sir Barton was not someone who simply wandered. If he was near Kyle’s village, then it was intentional. The question was—why now?

Without wasting time, Kyle summoned a flicker of mana to his fingertip and touched it to the edge of the parchment. It burst into flame, disintegrating before it could ever be intercepted. Once that was done, he closed his eyes briefly and expanded his senses.

The surrounding area was quiet. He could feel the signature mana pulses of the guards posted nearby, the gentle rustling of garden leaves, and even the subtle presence of Queen circling overhead—but no other hostile signature. Sir Barton had not yet reached them.

Still, Kyle had seen enough to know he couldn’t afford to wait.

He extended his arm toward the sky, and Queen, high above, obeyed instantly. It dove down, shifting as it flew until it landed with a soft thud on his forearm. Its cold eyes blinked once, awaiting command.

Kyle whispered.

"Go to Sasha. Tell her to strengthen the barrier around the village. If Barton’s coming, I want the entire perimeter sealed tighter than a noble’s coin purse."

Queen blinked again before taking off into the night like a shadow with wings.

Satisfied for now, Kyle turned back toward the estate. The banquet would be winding down soon, and any disruption would only bring unnecessary attention. He had no intention of dragging the nobles into his affairs—especially not when the threat was still uncertain.

Back in his quarters, Kyle unbuckled the straps of his cloak and sword, placing them carefully near the desk. His eyes lingered on the weapon for a moment, thoughtful.

He didn’t doubt that if Barton came, it would be with a plan. Whether it was to provoke, to test, or to seize—Kyle couldn’t be sure. But he would be ready.

He moved to the side of the room and pulled the curtains open slightly to check the horizon one last time. Still no unusual mana signature. That would change by dawn. He was sure of it.

There was nothing more he could do tonight.

With a weary sigh, Kyle returned to his bed and laid down without turning the lights off. Sleep didn’t come easily these days, but he knew he would need rest if he wanted to be sharp for whatever tomorrow brought.

War was no longer a question of "if."

It had already begun. Quietly, in the shadows, in the exchange of letters and the movements of soldiers.

The morning sun had barely begun to rise when Kyle’s eyes snapped open.

There was no noise, no movement inside the room. But his instincts stirred with the sharpness of a blade drawn halfway—enough to pull him out of sleep without hesitation.

He sat up quietly, grabbed his sword, and stepped out into the early dawn mist.

The village was silent. Too silent.

Kyle expanded his senses and immediately caught a foreign mana signature brushing up against the outer barrier—calm, steady, and undisguised.

Whoever it was had no intention of sneaking around. But they didn’t attack either.

A provocation.

Without bothering to alert anyone else, Kyle followed the presence all the way to the outskirts.

When he arrived, he noticed Sasha already standing just inside the barrier, her posture rigid, both hands glowing faintly with activated mana. Her eyes flickered toward him with visible relief.

"Kyle. There’s someone outside. They haven’t tried to force their way in, but they also haven’t moved for nearly twenty minutes."

She said in a low tone.

"I know."

Kyle responded, his voice calm.

Sasha looked conflicted, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Should I... attack? Or should I stand down? I didn’t know what my role was here, so I didn’t act. I didn’t want to risk doing something stupid."

Kyle studied her for a moment. Despite her stiff stance and determined aura, he could see the uncertainty behind her eyes. She wasn’t scared—but she was unsure.

And uncertainty in battle was more dangerous than fear.

Kyle walked past her, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder as he did.

"You did the right thing, Sasha. When you don’t know your authority, hesitation is better than recklessness."

Sasha blinked in surprise, but nodded quietly.

"I’ll handle it from here."

He said.

He stepped right up to the barrier, his eyes narrowing on the figure waiting outside.

A tall man, cloaked in black and silver armor, stood with his arms folded. His posture wasn’t aggressive—but the mana flowing off of him was dense. Controlled. Calculated.

Kyle didn’t need a formal introduction.

Sir Barton.

So the rumors were true. The enemy had arrived... just not as an army—but as a herald.

Kyle tilted his head slightly.

If Sir Barton had come all this way alone, it meant only one thing:

This wasn’t a declaration of war.

It was an invitation.

And Kyle had no intention of accepting anything without understanding the full price first.

Kyle stepped forward, his boots crunching softly against the dewy grass as he moved past the boundary of the barrier.

The moment his foot crossed the invisible line, a shift occurred.

Though the area around him appeared empty, Kyle felt it—more than one presence stirring in response to his movement.

The air grew heavier, dense with intent. Shadows rustled ever so slightly in the nearby trees, barely perceptible to the untrained eye, but Kyle was no fool.

They were hiding. Watching. Ready.

But none of them stepped forward.

Only the knight before him remained visible, still standing tall and composed. Clad in silver-black armor that bore the crest of Okla’s high command, Sir Barton did not draw a weapon.

Instead, he inclined his head slightly, as if acknowledging Kyle’s silent awareness of the hidden soldiers.

Kyle stopped a few paces away, eyes calm and unreadable.

He was not someone who got intimidated easily, but here, he had to be cautious for the sake of his people.