At the main gate, two Pekko-drawn carriages stood waiting, each proudly marked with the Armand crest.
Garius rode at the front, astride Giddie. His posture was regal and calm, unshaken by the echoes of the council hall behind him. On either side, Alf and Erinnette matched his pace atop their own Pekko, sharp-eyed and vigilant, their presence alone enough to still the restless murmurs of the guards.
Behind them, Hesbeirn led Armand’s elite knights, each mounted on a trained Pekko. Their armor and cloaks glead beneath the light as they ford a living wall of steel. The steady rhythm of talons striking stone resounded like a heartbeat of discipline, every step perfectly in ti.
In the center rode Armand’s sons, keeping formation with practiced ease, eyes forward though their expressions remained relaxed.
Toward the rear, Javier guided Buddy with his usual ease, Liana close behind on her Pekko, Pikko. Seated behind her was Kliatana, riding in silence.
Together, they arrived at the royal capital’s main gate.
There, two more Pekko-drawn carriages waited outside, their polished fras gleaming in the courtyard light.
Garius pulled Giddie to a halt, the rest of the convoy following his lead. He cast a brief glance at the open road, then turned his gaze back toward the gate.
"Erinnette?"
"Yes, my lord?"
"Where in the hell are Gilmon and Jarn?" His voice carried no anger, yet the edge was sharper than a shout.
Erinnette, riding just behind him, inclined her head. "They swore to follow imdiately, my lord. Perhaps—"
"Perhaps they’re packing their entire estates into wagons?" Garius cut her off, his smirk cold. "Did I not make myself clear? Families only. Nothing more. No tapestries, no gilded plates."
Erinnette chuckled softly, pressing her palm against her chest before bowing slightly. "Then perhaps, my lord, sothing, or soone, is holding them back. Shall I fetch them by the scruff of their collars?"
Garius exhaled, a low sigh escaping him.
"Not yet. We’ll wait a little longer. But if they make wait much longer... yes."
Gilmon finally appeared through the gate, his family in tow, several loyal servants hurrying after them. Their steps were quick, but their eyes flicked nervously left and right.
Garius’s gaze locked on him. Calm. Unmoving.
"Gilmon."
The general stiffened instantly, bowing his head. "Y–yes, Lord Garius?"
"What are you waiting for? Climb into that wagon and be done with it. Don’t stand there gawking as though you’ve never seen before. This isn’t the council chamber. Move."
Gilmon swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "At once, my lord." He ushered his family forward, signaling his servants to load what little they carried onto the Pekko-drawn carriages.
Garius’s eyes narrowed. "Now... where is Jarn?"
Gilmon faltered, voice shrinking under the weight of the question. "His estate lies farther in, near the inner quarter, my lord."
Garius exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"First I endure a chamber full of bloated, greedy nobles... and now I’m left waiting again?"
He turned his head slightly. "Erinnette. Kliatana rides with you. Lift her up if she hesitates."
"As you command." Erinnette bowed lightly, her tone respectful but edged with iron. She guided her Pekko closer to where Liana’s Pikko stood.
Kliatana, tense and uncertain, slid down from behind Liana. Her steps faltered until Erinnette extended a steady hand. The princess accepted it, climbing up and settling behind her, clutching faintly at Erinnette’s outfit.
Garius’s gaze shifted next to Javier.
"And you, Javier?"
Javier straightened at once. "Yes, Esteed Father."
"You will escort the carriages. I know Gilmon can fight, but one can never be certain what those bastards may send. Bandits. Assassins. Or worse."
Javier pressed his fist to his chest, bowing slightly. "As you command, Esteed Father."
Kliatana adjusted herself carefully behind Erinnette, her eyes still drifting toward Javier with quiet unease. Erinnette offered her a faint, reassuring smile before guiding her Pekko back into formation.
At the head, Garius turned Giddie toward the open road, his cape sweeping with the movent. His voice carried back, low and commanding.
"We go on ahead. Javier, protect the wagons. Make sure they reach the Armand border intact. Don’t give a reason to look back."
Javier’s lips curved into a faint smirk as he bowed once more. "As you command, Esteed Father."
Javier squinted. In the blink of an eye, when Giddie’s aura flared, the entire vanguard vanished, his father, Erinnette, Alf, his brothers and sister, and the elite knights gone as if the air itself had swallowed them.
He let out a long breath. "Damn... see that, Buddy? You should be like Giddie. Fast. Regal. Not... whatever you are."
"Cuquawked?"
Javier frowned. "Don’t pretend you don’t understand ."
"Cuquawk." Buddy turned his head toward Javier and let out a long, almost smug squawk, as if to say: try running on your own two legs first.
"Damn it, Buddy." Javier rubbed his forehead.
Behind him, Liana covered her mouth with one hand, eyes soft with amusent. A quiet laugh escaped her. "Fufu... Young master, Buddy understands perfectly well. He simply chooses not to listen."
"Traitor bird," Javier muttered, glaring at his mount. Buddy puffed his feathers proudly and squawked again, trotting in a small circle.
Movent caught Javier’s eye to the side.
Ah. Speak of the devil.
The royal advisor Jarn appeared at last, walking with composed grace, his expression calm and asured as if this relocation were nothing more than another item on his schedule. Behind him ca his wife and two sons, a squad of private guards in ceremonial armor, and a line of servants lugging an absurd amount of luggage.
Javier raised an eyebrow. "Whoa... he brought more than old man Gilmon did."
He leaned toward Buddy’s neck, smirking. "Heh. Must’ve packed the royal drapes too."
Liana chuckled softly. Her Pikko trotted beside her with quiet elegance. Her eyes flicked forward where the Armand elite were finishing the last wagon; one knight nodded at her in silent acknowledgent before turning to assist Jarn’s party.
Javier rubbed his chin, scanning the treeline.
"Hmmm... Pekko-drawn carriages are fast. I don’t think any horse-mounted force can chase them down. Unless they send wyverns, nothing’s catching up. But... as Father said, better not to be careless."
He lifted a hand. A faint pulse of mana shimred at his fingertips.
"Summon: Battle Drone."
A glyph burst to life in the air, crisp, glowing lines forming a complex sigil. A low tallic hum answered as four obsidian-black drones manifested, sleek and compact, their core lenses flaring deep blue before dimming into standby.
With a quick flick, a translucent magic screen, a floating hologram, ford before him.
( End Of Chapter )
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